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Remy LeBeau ([info]ace_of_clubs) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-19 23:47:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!complete, day 12, insider, location: barn, remy lebeau

Who: Remy LeBeau & The Insider
What: The Insider checks up on Remy and Remy notices.
Where: In the tunnels beneath the barn.
When: 0108 - Day 12
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete

It had been a long day for Gambit. The barn had been.. sort of taken care of, and was more livable now. He'd had to sacrifice his make-shift room, so he no longer had the privacy that he had the following night. Instead, he'd let Jack, Ianto and the Doctor have a few of the couches that were closer to the standing walls, beneath the cover of the creaking tin roof. Gambit had chosen, instead, to sleep on a couch near the open part of the barn, where there was a nice breeze. In order to do that, he'd had to move the couch there -- which moved it off of the trap door, only by a few feet. No one had taken notice, really, because it was so perfectly seamless, melding into the floorboards. And Remy hadn't given it a second thought. He'd just wanted to push the couch into the shade of a tree hanging over the barn (to block out the dim moonlight) and into a nice spot that would let the wind blow through. Sure, it wasn't as safe here.. something could fall on him, a wild animal could eat him, or some crazy, beautiful Amazon could capture him and drag him off to her secret mountain lair and force him to make sweet, sweet love to her on a regular basis, every hour on the hour, for the rest of his life, while torturing him with fantastic head while they were taking breaks in between....!

That would be just.. awful.

Hopefully, if anyone had to suffer that terrible, awful fate, it would be the unfortunate Cajun who had picked the spot away from the others, reclined on the couch on his back, sock-covered feet propped up on one arm, while his head rested on the other, as a pillow. His boots were next to the couch, neatly lined up, and his belt was folded and tucked into them. He'd worn his jeans and his tank-top to sleep, and was using his leather trench coat as a sheet of sorts. It was actually pretty comfortable.. but then, the cat-like Cajun could have slept on a flight of stairs and been fine. He was boneless and languid that way, all lanky limbs and grace, even sprawled out now on the dingy yellow couch, head lolled some to the side, a bit of that long red hair blowing some into his face. He'd picked a nice, breezy spot alright. Thank goodness for that. But the young man was a light sleeper, despite how easily he could pass out (like a narcoleptic), and it was often that the smallest noises could wake him.


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[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-21 01:08 am UTC (link)
"You makin' me feel like Romeo, mon ami." The Cajun confessed in the darkness, so close to the Insider's mouth, beneath that mask. And he was lifting his injured arm just some, enough to cover that now-ungloved hand in his partially gloved hand, fingers curling some. The red-head had often been described as cat-like, and that showed now more than ever, with the way his eyes slit down at the feel of that hand, and the way his body leaned in, like the feline rubbing against someone's legs, needing the contact. The way his muscles stretched out slow and languid, and the bicep in that gripping arm flexed, tightening the grip in the jacket, and now helping to hold the Insider in against him firmly, as he backed up a few steps, bringing them to the center of the tunnel.

"Why're you?" The question was returned just as softly. The Insider should have run, should have gotten away when they could. But they hadn't. Why were they so intent on staying? Why were they so intent on keeping the Cajun around and talking? Probably for the same reasons. It was appealing, to the both of them, this little interlude, the chance at having someone there. Someone they could.. well.. possibly trust. It was enticing. It was intoxicating. And Remy needed it.

But slowly, his hand was releasing that newly-bared one, and was moving back to the mask again, to slowly pull it up in the darkness, if allowed, this time. Not all the way up. He didn't want to pull it all the way up. He just wanted access to the mouth beneath. And if allowed that access, he'd pull the mask up to settle on the bridge of the nose, or just below, but not high enough to obscure the Insider's vision. And Remy was meeting mouths, hopefully, for a firm kiss.

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