Remy LeBeau: Here For Your Entertainment. (mssr_lebeau) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-09-04 16:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, aramis, remy lebeau (gambit) |
Who: Aramis & Remy LeBeau
What: Yoga in the park and a first meeting.
When: August 26.
Where: The Park
Rating/Warnings: PG13 for Language
Status:Completed
A lot had happened at work in recent days. With the director down for the count, and two of his friends also taking unexpected leave, the place seemed eerily quiet and unsettling. So, naturally, Aramis had taken up some extra work. Also, if he was being honest with himself, he still felt guilty about some things that had happened recently and working was a good way to forget that for a moment. Now, he supposed he deserved a bit of a break.
Aramis had several ways he liked to relax. One of those ways happened to be yoga. With the day off, and the weather looking promising, he took his mat to a park to get some stretches in. It seemed like a great way to start the day off.
***
“There are plenty of things I’ve never seen in my lifetime,” the Cajun’s voice would come from behind the stretching man, though he was slowly coming up alongside him, having wandered off the concrete path to get a better look at the other man. “But a man doing Yoga in the park is completely new to me. Not all that unwelcome, mind you, but still completely new.”
And to be honest, Remy was enjoying the view.
He could imagine the things that tight rear-end could do.
Jesus Christ, LeBeau, you really needed a therapist. Seriously.
“Are the studios all closed today, or were you out fishing for attention?” If it was attention you’d wanted, Aramis, you had it in spades with the red-head.
***
A smirk came to Aramis’ face at the voice, and he stood up, twisting around to see exactly who it was. Certainly not a bad audience to have, he thought.
“Apparently it’s the Californian way,” he said, and then he shrugged with a wide smile. “I’m fairly certain everything I do is for attention on some level. Why, do I have it?”
He pushed some curls off his forehead and gave the stranger an amused look, coupled with a quick once-over. It was probably terrible, he knew, to even consider flirting, given everything that had happened recently. But Aramis couldn’t help the way he was wired. Flirting was certainly not going to hurt anyone.
***
“Oui, you have it.” The man in the well-fitting suit would press his gloved hands into his pockets with a smile, eyebrows lifting just a bit over the sunglasses he was wearing. Wow, the front side of this man was even better than his rear. That was a rather rare occurrence.
Yeah, he’d be willing to lose a few hours of sleep with this guy. Any day.
Or night.
Or, you know, fifteen minute break in the lounge. Whatever.
“Rightfully so, I’d say.” As always, Remy’s eyes would drop to those hands, a quick scan for a ring, then back up. There was nothing that was more of a turn-off for the Cajun than someone who was in a relationship (committed or not, he thought cheaters were pretty much the scum of the earth-- unless, you know, they were swingers. That was always fun). “Looks like Yoga’s treating you well.”
***
“Well, merci, monsieur,” Aramis replied with a slight laugh and a tip of his head. Chances are, if he had a hat he’d have tipped that, too.
“It never hurts to be limber, I’ve learnt. Fast reflexes, a generally calm demeanor, plenty of reasons someone should take up yoga.” There were other benefits, of course. Aramis had extensive success in the bedroom because of his flexibility, but that seemed an ill choice of conversation with a stranger. Even a stranger who looked like a predator out stalking some sort of prey.
“I’ll admit, though, I just needed to get out of the house a bit. And a studio seemed too stuffy.”
***
“Oh, bel homme, parlez-vous Francais?” Oh, just look at the way his entire face blossomed into a smile, like this was the best thing that could have possibly happened to him. Like he’d won the fucking lottery. And maybe he had. How often did attractive, flexible, flirtatious men who spoke French just appear in the same park he was walking in?
God really did want him to be happy.
“It would be sort of a crime to be inside on a day like this.” Now he was itching to find a yoga class. Did all yoga classes have such hot men in them? He bet the women were just as hot. Oh, maybe this guy had a really kinky, open-to-new-things girlfriend who wanted to try a threesome?
How much did God love him today?
“I’m so glad you’re out in the sunshine.” So he could have a bit of eye candy.
***
“Mm, my parents are French. Well, my mother is Spanish, but she moved to France and met my father there. I was speaking French long before English.” Aramis shrugged. The smile never left his face. He was enjoying the interaction, even it was just a random run-in that stayed as idle chit-chat, he liked people in general.
“For the time being, I’m quite glad I’m out here, too.” At his words, he gave the red-head a pointed look. “Give it enough time and I’ll be moping to be back indoors. I’m Aramis, by the way.”
***
They had something in common, look at that! “I didn’t start speaking English until I was almost five.” But it was clear that hadn’t affected anything. He had a Southern drawl, but that had very little to do with the fact he could speak French, right? Cajuns.
“Very nice to meet you, Aramis, I’m Remy.” A good ol’ fashioned French name. Well, neither of his parents had been French, but rather both Cajun. Way back down the line they were French but they’d been in America as long as anyone else.
He liked that name. Aramis.
And all he wanted to do was ask this guy if he wanted to come back to his penthouse for a few drinks. And, you know, sex-- but that would be left unsaid. Implying it was enough!
He didn’t, though, of course. His charm wouldn’t allow him to be so uncouth.
***
Aramis laughed. He was charmed. It wasn’t very often that he found people who he could relate with so easily, at least without trying.
“I had to be home schooled a few years until my English was better, since if I wasn’t speaking French then I was speaking Spanish.” He didn’t seem at all embarrassed by the admission. In fact, Aramis relied a lot on being multi-lingual as part of his flirting technique. It had an alarming success rate.
“Remy,” he repeated, leaning over to pick up his mat and roll it up. “It’s a good name. It’s got a sort of flair, doesn’t it?”
***
“Spanish?” He spoke Spanish, too. And Russian. They did a surprising amount of business in Russia. “Romance languages. I’m taking Italian.” All the better to charm women with. Yes, he used those languages for the same reason Aramis did.
These two shouldn’t be allowed in the same room together.
“About the same as Aramis, I suppose. Yours sounds very.. proper. Respectful. A name you can trust, a man you want to take to meet your parents.” His eyebrows went up and he took a slow step forward, allowing his eyes to drop and look the other an over again. “I bet you’re a heartbreaker.”
This guy was.. well, Lord, he was wonderful. It was nice to find someone as confident as himself. It wasn’t always easy being the only one who had any self-worth.
***
“Italian is beautiful. I took it in university. It was surprisingly easy after learning Latin.” Aramis managed to look smug and full of humour all at once. “I’ve actually started Portuguese now. For something to do. But you know, if you ever need a hand with the Italian …”
Aramis let the offer trail off, but he raised his eyebrow right back. “Thank you. I’ve always thought that about the name myself. As for breaking hearts … Well.” He shrugged, and for the first time his smile lost a bit of its shine. “I try not to. It’s a terrible feeling, having your heart broken.”
***
“Latin? Okay, I’m officially impressed. The only others I can claim are Spanish, Russian, enough Japanese to do business and year four of Italian.” A pause, then he laughed and rolled his shoulders back. “I want to learn Latin.” Think of the women he could pick up using that! “But I could definitely use some help with the Italian, the next time I’m taking a lesson, I’ll have to look you up.” Yes, he’d be getting your number, handsome.
“Is it?” The way he said it implied he’d never had his heart broken.
He hadn’t.
Hard to have your heart broken with you simply.. didn’t feel that sort of thing. Remy was a very accomplished sociopath, he people watched, he studied movies, and he was oh so very good at behaving like he had some sort of feelings inside that perfectly toned chest. But the simple fact was that he didn’t. He just didn’t.
“I wouldn’t expect a man like you would ever go through something like that.” Because he himself never had. And it wasn’t often such an attractive and charismatic man got dumped.
***
“Latin,” Aramis confirmed. “I come from a very Catholic family. Latin just sort of happened.”
Aramis didn’t generally like disclosing too much information about himself. The languages, yes, and little drops of impressive information that made him seem delightful and good company, that was fine. But when it came to the real stuff, he kept that guarded. At the new topic on broken hearts, his smile became a bit smaller and he simply shrugged.
“I’d certainly hate to bore you with it,” he said. “I’m sorry I’m not in a better state right now, otherwise I’d suggest we grab a drink. Perhaps later, once I’ve had a chance to clean up a bit?”
***
Remy was the same way, enough information to make it seem like you knew him, but when you sat down and thought about it you realized that you didn’t know him at all.
It was classic.
“Oh, I don’t imagine much about you is boring, Aramis.” He’d smile and lift his eyebrows some, swaying back a step. “It’s a date.” Yes. Yes it was. Tugging a business card from his pocket, he’d scribble across the back and hand it over, held neatly between two fingers. “My cell. I don’t sleep much.” So feel free to call him.. whenever the idea caught your fancy.
And don’t worry a thing about Porthos. Remy didn’t seem the type to mind an extra or two. What was that about sharing? Sharing means caring?
***
“Mm, yes, I suppose it is,” Aramis replied, taking the card with an easy smile. “I’ll give you a call soon, then. And we can have a little Italian conversation over some Spanish wine and French pastries. For good measure.”
He tucked the card safely away, then gave Remy another nod of his head. Clearly, Aramis thought, he’d need to do yoga in the park more often.