It was a rainy day in New Orleans and Remy LeBeau was sitting in a windowsill in the hotel room, watching the rain drip down the glass in rivulets. He marveled at how well the weather mirrored his mood. Or maybe it was his mood that mirrored the weather. It was probably the latter, since the rain kept him cooped up and able to think about anything and everything. Namely what had happened in New York, at the mansion.

Remy kept telling himself he came here to get away, came here to cool off. And that was mostly true. But he also wanted to forget, wanted to leave everything behind and be happy. Except this damned weather wasn't letting him forget.

A knock on the door pulled him from his reverie and startled him into falling off the windowsill.

"Mon Dieu! Qui-est?" He picked himself up and waited for an answer.

"Uh... room service?" a slightly nervous and confused voice said through the door. The nervousness was hard to hear, but it was still there.

Remy thought the voice sounded familiar, but he could barely tell through the door and the rain. Looking confused, he opened the door...

Only to be greeted by a very wet and very distraught looking Scott Summers.

"Scott!"

The other man looked up and smiled embarrassedly. "Hey, Remy."

"Wh... what're you doin' here?" Remy took a step back, opening the door wider to let him in. Scott came in, smiling gratefully and looking relieved.

God, but that smile made Remy weak in the knees.

"I just... I wanted to apologize..."

"And you came all de way to New Orleans just to do dat?"

He looked down. "Well... yeah"

There was a moment of awkward silence before Remy spoke again. "Well, mon ami, let's get you dry, 'fore you catch cold."

He went into the bathroom and got a towel, handing it to Scott before going to the bureau that held most of his things. After opening one drawer, he pulled out a black turtle-neck shirt, black jeans, and socks. "Sorry it's all black, but it's all dat Gambit got left," he said with a smile, "'Sides, black works for you..." He turned around and stopped dead in his tracks.

With his hair ruffled from the towel, his clothes wet and the shy little smile on his face, Scott reminded him of a little boy. He looked absolutely gorgeous.

"What?"

Remy smiled, then walked over to the other man, handing him the clothes. "You're hair's messy." He reached up, gently brushing his fingers through Scott's hair to fix it. Scott blushed and Remy just smiled again. After a moment, he stopped and let his hand fall back to his side. "Well? Go get changed already..."

Scott nodded, "Yeah, okay..." he murmured before going into the bathroom and closing the door.

When he came back out, he found Remy laying on his back on the bed, hands laced together behind his head and eyes closed. He looked like an angel. Everything he felt for this angel swirled together into one colorful blur.

Blushing, Scott went over and sat down on the edge of the bed. He remember all the nights they had hung out together, talking and laughing, having fun. Enjoying the company of a friend. Then falling asleep on the same bed, only to sleep till mid-afternoon. Remy was the one person he could talk to so easily aside from the Professor.

So why was he so nervous now?

'Because there's not a chance in hell a guy like him would ever be even remotely interested in me,' he sneered to himself.

"You could have called you know." Remy's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

Remy was looking up at Scott now. He had been right: black does work for him. Scott looked good in his clothes. The shirt was just tight enough to show he was thin, but muscular – although not too muscular. Remy wondered what the other man would do if he kissed him.

'Mon Dieu! LeBeau,' he thought suddenly, 'what the hell are you thinking! He's your best friend now and wouldn't be much longer after you did that. He'd be horrified.'

At Scott's confused look, he continued, "'stead of coming all the way from New York."

The look of confusion left. "Oh." He shrugged, turning away. "Yeah, I know, but it just seems so impersonal to me. Besides... I felt really bad... still do..."

"Don't feel bad," he said quietly.

Silence fell between them.

What happened back in New York had been devastating. For all of them. But worst for Remy.

"The whole team misses you."

"Dat so?"

Scott smiled. "Yeah. Logan keeps trying to act like his normal anti- social, macho-man self, but everyone knows he misses you. He keeps saying things about 'that damn Cajun, always thinkin' only of himself. Leavin' without realizin' he's my only backup'" they both laughed at his imitation. "And... the ladies all miss your charm..."

Remy smiled a little. "Yeah? Well, dem petit-filles aren't de ones I want to be charmin'"

'...so he's got a girl here then?' Scott thought dejectedly.

After a moment, Remy sighed. "And what 'bout you? You missin' me?"

Scott was startled and slightly hurt by the question. "Yes! I mean, you're my best friend... why wouldn't I be?"

Remy shrugged. "You seemed to be wantin' to get rid o' me pretty bad there."

"I... I was mad. I really shouldn't have said the things I did," he paused," y-...you really didn't deserve it." His voice was utter despair and guilt.

Silence again

the bed shifted a little as Remy sat up behind Scott. He put his hands on his friend's shoulders. "Now, Scott, you shouldn't be blamin' yourself." He started kneading his shoulders.

"Why not?"

"'Cause it makes you tense."

Scott laughed softly, leaning into the gentle touch as they sat in a more comfortable silence. Remy worked his way down Scott's back, then back up to his shoulders and the other man started to relax.

"Dere," he said softly, still gently kneading at the still stiff muscles, "now dat's better."

Scott shivered a little. "Remy... th... there's something... I need to tell you..."

"Yeah?"

He drew a breath. It helped a little that he wasn't looking at his friend. "That's why I came here. Well, most of the reason other than apologizing.... Ever since you came to the school I... I've felt something.... I've felt close to you. It's always felt good to be around you."

The kneading didn't stop yet. "What're you gettin' at, mon ami?"

He took another deep breath and decided just to say it. "Remy... I'm in love with you."

There: the hands stopped. 'Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god...'

"Wh... what?"

"I'm in love with you," quieter than before. 'Oh god, oh god... I've screwed up. He's gonna hate me....'

The hands on Scott's shoulders started trembling. "Mon Dieu..." 'Mon Dieu... I can't believe...' Remy leaned forward and lightly kissed the curve of Scott's neck.

Scott was startled. He turned around under the hands and Remy just sat smiling at him.

"I love you, Scott," he whispered. He leaned forward and kissed the other man's lips.

And, finally, they both found happiness in each other....