Disclaimer: I do not own.
Author's Notes: This story is a huge departure for me. It's told from Gambit's POV, which intimidated me, but I don't think I butchered it too much. It's just another Rogue-and-Gambit tie the knot piece. In my version, they already married a few years prior in Scotland. At the time, Gambit's oldest daughter, Honor, was detained at Muir Island. Rogue was pregnant and very sick, so she and Gambit eloped. Since then, they've raised a family together, only realizing years later that their marriage isn't legally binding. Some characters here are original and come from my other stories like Honor Saga and The Ballad, but you don't need to have read those to follow this one. Ollie and Becca come from The End and GeNext spin-offs, but they're petites here. It's really just some ROMY fun, which leads me to my next point... WARNING! Lots of graphic sex. I don't have the next chapter written yet. It'll be a while before it gets posted – if I ever post it. So if you like, please review. Maybe it'll move me along. Enjoy!
Making a Big Stink
I took all those habits of yours
That in the beginning were hard to accept.
Your fashion sense, Beardsley prints,
I put down to experience.
The big bosomed lady with the Dutch accent
Who tried to change my point of view.
Her ad-lib lines were well rehearsed
But my heart cried out for you.
And there have been many affairs,
Many times I've thought to leave.
But I bite my lip and turn around,
'Cause you're the warmest thing I've ever found.
You're in my heart, you're in my soul.
You'll be my breath should I grow old.
You are my lover, you're my best friend.
You're in my soul
~You're In My Soul, Rod Steward
Her slender hands slid around my waist and followed the apex down to my erection. Sometimes, just her scent on my pillow was enough to provoke a reaction. All the years we spent separated by the flesh that yearned to unite… All the years of carefully placed intimacy… We had so much time to make up for: sensations to try and babies to make. She crawled under the covers and I pulled my boxers down to accommodate her. We knew each other so well now that we moved like two parts of one mind: in or out of bed. Predictability doesn't mean tediousness: that's been my life's hardest lesson. Other women would get frustrated when I made sexual suggestions; they were embarrassed to try anything new. But my Anna knows just what to do. She learned everything from me, which trilled my soul. She was worried about not being any good… Ridiculous! For the first time in my life, I was hesitant to expose my lusts and desires. She was so pure; I didn't want to be the corruptor. Turns out, I was naïve as well. Poor girl had spent twenty-some years keeping her hands to herself, and she was ready to make up for lost time. If I hadn't known so personally about her inexperience, I would never have guessed it. She knew how to grind her hips, where to place her kisses, and when to moan. She liked to be on top, and she liked to make love half-dressed… But she loved oral sex. She stroked my cock, pulling it down towards her and cupping my balls. I could feel her breath between my legs, and spread my knees. She kissed the tip of my penis, but didn't take it in her mouth. Little vixen. She increased her speed and then slowed down again; her other hand still massaging my testicles. Feeling her shift below me, I groaned with anticipation. Instead of giving me what I wanted, she only licked the shaft. Her little tongue, wet and warm, lapped it's way up and shadowed kisses. I was panting now, with my legs wide open like a whore. Finally, her mouth gripped onto the head of my cock. I gave a long, quiet moan. The tension ebbed briefly, and then built again. Finally, I had the warm cavern of her mouth, but now I wanted to thrust into it. I wanted to be buried in her tight, sweet body. She didn't oblige, but pumped the shaft while sucking on the head. Then she took as much as she could hold – about half – and pulled back very, very slowly while sucking.
"Oh, putain," I groaned. It was all I could say.
I can't even remember all the women who've sucked me off, but Anna's the best. Whores and porn stars could take a lesson from her. I can't even take credit for teaching her; she does things I've never even imagined. The slow, intense pressure brought tears to my eyes, and I begged for her.
"My love…" she whispered before shoving her tongue down my throat.
She straddled my hips, and my cock stretched until it reached the satin lips of her cunt. She lowered herself, trying to take it all in one thrust, which was impossible. If her mouth was tight, her cunt was tighter still, and always required a little probing to access. Her fingers locked with mine, and held my hands against the mattress. I felt like we were truly connected now: my cock in her cunt, her tongue in my mouth, and our palms pressed together. We were more than our bodies, somehow. Finally, she'd taken all of me, and her ass brushed my balls. It was still a tight fit, and we groaned together. She began thrusting her hips, and I could tell from her quick breath and the desperate way she clung to me that she wouldn't last long. I matched her pace and tried to put my mind somewhere else. Otherwise, I'd finish too soon. I pulled her sleeping shirt off and grabbed her breasts, twisting her nipples. I felt her cunt release hot, sticky cum, and she clenched even tighter. She fit on me like a glove that was too small, and I always worried about hurting her. But the pleasure was mutual.
"Remy," she cried, "Ah – Ah-!"
I put a hand between us and let my thumb brush her clit. Her body rocked with little, violent spasms, and inside, her cunt rippled and grew wetter around me. I waited until she finished before I let myself come. I've heard that women are more fertile after an orgasm. Maybe it's just a myth; I really wouldn't know. Anna's on birth control, anyway. After our son's death, she said she didn't want any more children. I don't have grounds for argument: I'm not the one carrying and delivering our litter. But there's nothing I enjoy more than making babies with her… And I know if she'd get pregnant, she'd feel the same way. She's just gun shy now – that's all.
After our encounter, we laid together in the darkness. My hand drifted down to her womb, where my seed had been planted. I prayed that her birth control would fail, and we'd have another child. If it were a girl, we'd name her Antoinette.
.::.
While Honor and Renegade set the table, I helped Anna in the kitchen. The petites were playing nosily in the living room. The three of them together weren't as obnoxious as Megan or Alex Summers, Jr.
I know every parent favors their own child, but mine really are extraordinary. My eldest is a musical genius; and just because the 'musical' precedes the 'genius' doesn't make her any less intelligent. This year she won a nation-wide competition between thousands of child prodigies. Taking the blue ribbon came with a nice chunk of money, guest-starring in several symphonies, and a four-year scholarship to the Manhattan School of Music… But I wouldn't be disappointed if I had to pay for Juilliard. My son has his mother's temper, and the gonads to back it up. Being my only boy, he's a breath of fresh air. Girls are secretive and cunning. If you piss them off, you've got to ask to know about it. Otherwise, it'll bite you on the derriere long after you've forgotten about it. But not with Ollie. Anna was never like that, either: one of the loveable things about her. Becca's the baby: the most like me. I've been a father long enough to know you don't tell your children things like that – they think it's favoritism. But others say it often enough for me, usually in a negative tone. She's quiet, so I didn't realize how much we were alike for a while. She's spent the first four years of her life observing, and now she's spewing up all her knowledge. It's too late to try and correct her: she already knows more about the world than those straight-laced Summers'. The twins are extremely clever in their own ways. Ollie can talk his way out of (or into) any situation, and Becca is usually tinkering away with some instrument or invention. I'm resourceful with what I have, but her ability to create something from nothing comes from Anna.
We want our kids to thrive just as much as Honor has.
Beast suggested an Academy for our tots, which is supposed to "cultivate young minds". I wasn't enthusiastic about it. Schools don't educate so much as they destroy the desire to learn, and "early-education" is just a form of child-abuse funded by well-meaning parents. After all, who taught Honor how to play piano? She learned it herself. Who taught Becca how to build a working robot from discarded computer and car parts? She did! Who taught Ollie how to use words to coax favors?
But Anna said: "They're so smart already. Just imagine what they could do with a little help! We said we wanted the best for our kids, Remy… How could an early education hurt 'm?"
I didn't have the most normal up-bringing, so my opinions are skewed. Anna, being the saner of us, would never harm them. So I relented: thinking my harsh view of organized education is based only on my harsh experiences. Maybe it would help Olls and B-Beb. After all, Honor's talents had grown exponentially since taking lessons with Mr. Anderson.
"How de interview wit' de Academy go?" I asked while seasoning the jambalaya and putting the onions on to simmer.
"Oh!" She shook her head. "Knew Ah was forgettin' something! Ah went down there-"
Hero ran into the kitchen, crying and holding her elbow. She was my ex-wife's youngest child, and a pretty little girl, if plagued with issues. She was deaf and mute, but brave and sweet, too. I don't know how any man could leave her behind. I would've been proud to call her my child. Mercifully, her mother was working late. Belle had the type of personality you could only agree with if you agreed to everything she wanted. The house was always less tense when she wasn't around. Through a series of crises, Anna and I had been forced to live in close proximity with Belle through most of our marriage… First 'On was sick, and then Anna had trouble carrying the twins, then I nearly died… Now the kids are bonded, and Honor's only got another two years before she leaves for college. After that, we can go back to Valle Soleada and our house by the beach.
"What's the matter?" Anna asked Hero. "Hurt your elbow?"
Hero nodded, her white-gold curls shaking.
Anna kissed her invisible wound and told her to play more carefully. Then she returned to stirring the vegetables. "Ah went down there today, and turns out – we ain't married!"
I turned to her, but my eyes caught Honor's instead. She looked as shocked as I was.
"Ain? 'Course we married! In Scotland!"
"Turns out, that's only biddin' if one of us were Scottish."
"We married in de Church!"
"But not in the eyes of the American government. It ain't no big thing, sugah," She shrugged. "Just a paper oversight. All we gotta do is go down to the courthouse, sign the license and be done with it. All this time I've been callin' myself Mrs. LeBeau, I'm still Miss Raven!"
"Don't t'ink about havin' one last fling, chere. I don't care what soil we on, you m' wife."
"Never thought Ah'd see the day when Remy LeBeau was rushin' to put a ring on! What day's good for you? We'll probably need the afternoon."
"If Belle take de petites, we do it on Friday."
Anna shook her head. "This Friday's no good. Next Friday?"
"D'accord."
Honor entered the kitchen with a glass in each hand. Renegade, Belle's adopted son, came in behind her with extra glasses, which they began filling with ice.
"You guys eloped last time!" My daughter complained, as if she'd been party to the conversation all along. "You don't think Jean-Luc would like to see you get married? You don't think your kids want to be there?"
Just like her mother, Honor's a master of emotional blackmail.
"Ah s'pose we could have a dinner afterwards…" Anna relented. "With just the family; nothin' too big."
"Nothing too big!" Honor echoed with glee.
.::.
The next morning, we all went our ways. Honor and Renegade went to the school where Anna and I use to mentor. She still works there, but as a mechanic rather than a combatant. Belle went to her bookkeeping job, and the petites stayed at home with Lena, their nanny. Despite all my promises to Anna and my kids, going straight was harder than I thought. They thought I worked with Stormy, who led the legal-side of the X-Men. And sometimes I really did work for her… But our biggest source of income was the side hires: finding someone who didn't want to be found or acquiring an item not for sale.
Today was a legal day.
"I have a task, if you feel up to it," Ororo said. "Shaw is gathering a party in lower Manhattan. We believe the European Inner Circle will be there, although we do not know why. An international conference is highly unusual. It would be to our benefit to know what is happening. Do you accept?"
"Sorry, Stormy… Sounds time consumin', and I'm getting' married next week."
She did a double-take. "Does your wife know?"
"Turns out, we ain't married after all. Lucky she ain't Emma or I be buyin' another ring!"
She smiled sadly. "Many marriages and children… Truly, the Goddess has shown you favor."
.::.
When I returned home that night, I could feel something amiss in the air. Inside, Honor was crying in the living room. Belle was with her, and immediately shot me a look: 'Where have you been?'
"What happen?" I asked.
Anna came in from the kitchen, carrying a glass of water, which she handed to Honor.
"Got a call from New Orleans…" Anna started.
"And?"
"Chaucer Prideaux's been killed," Belle finished.
He was Honor's suitor: her acquaintance, but not a friend and certainly not her lover. I could only deduce that she was crying because she had a kind and generous heart, and not because she was truly mourning.
"What happen? He not die of old age like de last one."
"Remy!" Belle snapped. "Dis ain't no time for jokes!"
"It was… a mission…" Honor sobbed. "In Russia… His ship sank… Momma, what's gonna happen to the Guild?"
"Trust me, chere, I been right where you at. I don't know what we gonna do, but we figure somet'ing out. De Guild gonna survive dis."
Of course, it was the Guild she wept for. This marriage, which her mother arranged entirely without me, was to secure a rivalry within the Guild. Since no one in my clan approved this arrangement, it's validity was in question. My late brother's widow actually went medieval and cursed Honor's womb and Chaucer's seed so that nothing could ever come from their union.
"And now…" Honor hiccupped. "Everyone's gonna think Tante Mercy was behind it…"
She wasn't wrong.
I hadn't planned on inviting Mercy to my wedding, but she needed a solid excuse to get out of New Orleans until the heat was off. While I was planning my wedding, Chaucer's poor father was planning a funeral. Without a body, there wasn't much point in a burial. His little family just held a memorial service, much like the one Anna and I had for our stillborn son, Henri. Some people speculated that Chaucer was still alive: cast away on some deserted Russian island, but his father didn't believe that. He knew his boy was dead, and he was one foot in the grave with him.
Honor seemed to recover quickly enough, though I'm not complaining.
.::.
Since Honor and Renegade were out with their friends, Belle made a simple dinner of spaghetti and salad. Easy enough to make: not so easy for petites to eat. The twins were covered in sauce! Anna and I carried them down the hallway like a pair of smelly diapers. She stripped them while I ran the water: not too hot or Ollie would refuse to get in; not too deep or Becca would worry about drowning; and an arm full of bath toys. They climbed in of their own accord: Ollie carefully testing the temperature with a toe before complying.
"You find a restaurant for next Friday?" I asked her.
"Yeah, actually… What'd you think about renting the Evelyn Rose? It's the only place big enough for everyone."
I stopped mid-reach for wash cloths. The Evelyn Rose was a restaurant on a yacht in Long Island. I'd never been there, but it sounded expensive.
"Big enough? T'ought we agreed on just de family."
"Well, you're family's comin' in from all over. If Mercy's gonna be there, you know dern well Belle'll expect an invite. And she'll bring all her youngin's. Ah called Momma… She says she'd rather get thrown down a hill in a barrel full of nails and then set on fire, but Ah wouldn't count her out. Ah didn't want the boat to capsize, so Ah had to invite someone for my side!"
Inside, I groaned. This is why we got married: so we could start our own family. She didn't have anyone, and I had a family tree full of nuts. Somehow, she seemed even more upset about her lack of roots since the twins came along.
"Papa!" Ollie whined, "Wash cloths, please!"
I complied, handing them each a little rag. They were old enough now to wash themselves, although they usually didn't.
Rogue sat patiently on the floor while they splashed and played. "Ah invited the X-Men."
"And if dey all sit on m' side?"
She smiled, and family politics seemed a little less important. "So ya might wanna get a suit." She turned her attention back to the kids, taking the wash cloths and soap bar. "All right, kiddies, time to get clean!"
.::.
"A suit? A suit!" I vented to Beast, who was the only man around with any sense.
Cyke blew his kid's college funds so his soon-to-be-ex-wife could serve Dom Perignon at their wedding, and Wolverine had everyone fly to the other side of the planet for a wedding that never happened… Then, at the other end of the specter: Bobby Drake, who was proof that not everyone had a soul mate, and Professor Xavier, who'd thrown away many a fine woman for his *dream*. But Hank fell in love with a gorgeous woman – a little on the dull side, but her seriousness was balanced by his joie de vivre. He courted her quietly, and then eloped. No one knew what went on in their relationship, which is how it should be. My own love affairs were nothing if not messy… This not-being-married-to-my-wife was the latest in a series of messy events.
Hank chuckled and shook his head. "When love is not madness, it is not love."
"You said it, homme!"
"Actually, that was Pedro Calderon de la Barca… But if I may impart some words of my own, I think you may expect a small, pre-celebratory celebration. Given completely by surprise, of course."
"Why? You t'ink I not live it up enough b'fore I marry?"
"Not my idea, my friend. I only mean to warn you that Rogue is not the only one getting carried away."
.::.
Since the girls wanted new dresses and I had to find a suit, Anna and I didn't get our usual Friday night date. But being married hadn't dulled my romantic sentiments. Saturday night, I made sure Lena knew to keep the petites in their room and set up dinner on Anna's balcony. It was too windy for candles, but you'd be surprised what some flowers and wine can add. I made her favorite: fried chicken with macaroni and cheese, collard greens and peach cobbler for desert. The meal was paired with a sweet, white wine, and after one glass she was as bubbly as champagne.
"That's why ya love me," she smiled, her cheeks flushed. "Ah'm a cheap date!"
"Mais, glad you're wasted, 'cause I brought you up here t' propose and I'm sweatin' like a whore in church."
She choked on her drink and hit me. "Remy!"
I tried not to laugh at her; she was hanging on the table like a drunk. Whenever she was entirely carefree (like she was now), her face lit up like our children's. I thought I loved her when we married four years ago. I didn't know what love was; I was only beginning to understand. Love was the reason I held Honor when she was up all night crying for her dead mother. It was why Anna reclaimed her powers, and why she learned to control them. Ultimately, it was why I stood still at the altar for a second time – less dreadful but still terrifying, and it was why I built this house for Belle and Anna and our children. Sometimes I went days without thinking about the people I'd killed or the lives I'd ruined. Before Anna, I couldn't live more than a few minutes without remembering the horrible things I'd done. I thought maybe I deserved to die. But she's given me something more than dark memories.
I didn't know all this four years ago.
I don't know if she realizes it yet; I've never found the words to tell her. I'd hate to finally expose this new, deeper love in a room full of friends, family and strangers. It should be kept between us.
"I be glad when dis whole t'ing over. Don't know how we get talked int' doin' a show."
"Mah dress is beautiful, sugah," she said dreamily. "Just wait till ya see it… And the flowers! Had to pay a little extra to get them on such short notice, but Ah think it's worth it."
"You femmes go nuts for a weddin', non?" I poured myself another glass of wine.
"Well, ya only get one! 'Cept this one time… If Ah'd known we were gonna get married that Christmas Eve, Ah would not have worn blue jeans!"
"We coulda gotten you a dress, chere."
"Nah… Ah was kinda in a hurry. Figured if Ah gave you too much time to think about it, you'd change your mind!"
"Dat stings, Anna. You t'ink I not wanna marry you?"
"You didn't seem to put a lot of thought into it," She said. "Ah didn't get a ring or anything! Ah mean, ya didn't even tell your daughter we were getting' married. Why? Did ya think Ah'd say no?"
"Look, chere, I was just bein' impatient. I didn't really wanna make a big stink over tyin' de knot, I just wanted t' do it. Doesn't mean I don't care. If you wanna big weddin', we wait an' do dis later. You can have de dress, de band – whatever you want."
"And leave you on the market? Ah don't think so."
I walked and she staggered back inside, where she immediately began stripping her clothes. People think I exaggerate – she really is insatiable! First the dress, then the slip comes off. She smiles at me, her tight, slender body covered only by her bra and panties. I'd lie if I claimed not to care how motherhood would affect her body, but she recovered with remarkable speed. Her hips are broader now: the bones pushed apart during labor. And her breasts are heavier now: they never fully deflated after losing Henri. They couldn't still be holding milk; he died almost two years ago. Otherwise, her body bears no evidence of children. She doesn't even suffer stretch marks: a rare benefit of being a mutant. Her thighs and ass and stomach are all as firm and strong as the first time I touched them. And, yes, even her vagina recovered.
I watch her now, using her body to seduce me.
"You're drunk," I reminded her.
"Ah did all the work last time," she said. "Get over here."
She crawled from the foot of the bed to the head, her ass beckoning me to follow. Then she collapsed and smiled at me. I grabbed the two cords across her hips and pulled down her black G-string. The garment quickly transformed into a twisted mess of floss, which I tossed over my shoulder. Her sex was nearly bare: only a thin layer of fuzz covered her. I opened her lips and tasted her, giving her my whole mouth at first and then backing away. She wrapped her legs around my head and gripped my hair with her fingers. She was oddly sensitive tonight – alcohol always left her eager for love. Her cunt was already soaking wet, and when I slid a finger into her ass, it was uncomfortably hot. She groaned and arched her back.
"You like dat?"
I moved my finger in and out, feeling her muscles clench and tighten. At first, she just grunted, but then she answered: "Yes… yes… yes!" Her words matched my thrusts, so I knew she liked it a lot. She pulled me up and ripped my clothes off. Her emerald eyes were dark with desire, and once my cock was exposed, she spread her legs for me. Mon Dieu, this woman was incredible! My heart swelled with love for her, and I tried to hold her and tell her how I felt.
"Just fuck me, Remy!" she moaned.
"I tryin' t' tell you, chere… Dat I love you. I don' never love nobody like you…"
I held her face and stroked her hair, but I couldn't make love to her. If I did that, she'd think my words were just sweet nothings, and they meant a great deal.
"Love me in mah ass," she said, trying to pull me inside of her.
"Non… Anna! I'm sorry I married you four years ago 'cause I didn't know what love was. T'ought I did, but I didn't. But bein' wit' you and raisin' our kids has given me a heart. I want you t' know what you mean t' me."
"Sugah…" She rubbed the tip of my cock against her rear entrance. "Ah know. Now spit."
I was an anal-sex virgin, and spitting on her seemed degrading. She coated a dildo with KY lubricant, and slid it easily into her ass. I took the instrument from her and worked it in and out. God, she was tight there, too, and the purple phallic tool got lodged several times. Nearly sprained my wrist trying to please her. Maybe another man would've been eager to give the lady what she wanted, but frankly, I was scared. She was like a vice. She rubbed her swollen clit until she climaxed, which happened in record time. She really seemed to enjoy it. Then she looked up at me with heavy-hooded eyes and smiled. While removing her dildo, she tensed up, and then sighed once it was out. I felt a little guilty about putting my penis against her ass: it was swollen and moist, but she didn't object. Lying on her back, she looked half-asleep. Her strong, lean legs wrapped around my torso and pulled me closer. I had to hold her open and force my way in. There was no other way to do it. At first, she was painfully tight, and her body tried to resist me. A few sweet words made her limbs relax, but her involuntary barriers were harder to control. Her body wouldn't let me more than half-way in, and every time I pulled out, she closed up as tightly as a virgin.
Her words weren't very encouraging, either. She was clearly crying out in pain, but every time I tried to stop, she insisted I keep going. I felt like a rapist and she was my wife; I wanted to stop. Suddenly, something shifted. I could move with ease, and she gasped with pleasure. Encouraged now, I dared to go deeper. Her body didn't resist me, and we both moaned contently. I could feel the vibrations move through our bodies together, as if we were one entity. Her body dampened the sheets with sweat and cum, and beads of moist exhaustion dripped from my nose and chin and chest. I was so hot even the soles of my feet were sweating – I didn't know that was possible. I held on to her slick body and fucked her. Sheer pleasure rippled through me. It wasn't just her screams of ecstasy, which alone could've driven me over the edge. And it wasn't because of the way her skintight, molten body gripped me, either. What really got me off was the intense emotional storm brewing between us. I was high on power and lust and the novelty of it all. She was the most incredible woman I'd ever known, and she'd given me her body to do with as I pleased. She sealed her life to mine, and brought my children into this world. I would die for her a hundred times. I climaxed completely unexpectedly. My cum filled the crevices inside her and then spilled back over my cock, as if I'd been wearing a condom. All coherent thought left my mind, leaving behind only primitive feelings. Pure, unending love pumped through my veins. I thought my heart would burst inside my chest.
Looking down at her, I saw tears trailing from her eyes and over her temples.
"Ah love you…"