Title: The Beauty and Beast
Author: Russian_Girl (saint-olga@yandex.ru)
Archive: yes, just let me know where
Fandom: X-Men
Pairing: Gambit/Beast
Rating: PG13
Summary: just a simple love story
Notes: first of all, thanks to my wonderful beta, Mez/TDM!
* * *
He looked around and entered the room. He felt a light scent, sweet
and exotic; for him, it was the best smell in the world. It was one
of those rare days when he was alone in the mansion and could be
here. He walked through the room noticing everything: the forgotten
card on the floor, the book of poetry on the table near the bed, the
shirt on the chair. He took it to his face. The same smell, much
stronger then it was in the air touched his nostrils.
At that moment a strange creature gazed at him from the mirror - huge,
with abnormally long hands and legs, covered with the blue fur. He
sighed sadly. His reflection remembered him of who he was. A monster.
A beast.
Henry McCoy a.k.a. Beast left the room.
He returned to his lab, the only place in the whole mansion where he
really felt at home. He tried to do his studies for a while but there
was a thing in the lab that called for him. He opened a small box
that was hidden inside his desk. There was a strand of auburn-red
hair there, curled as a spiral. Hank touched it with his fingertips
and was again surprised of how silky it felt. He remembered the day
when he had got it. Gambit returned from the mission with his hair
partly burned, and they had to cut it off. It was such a pity to cut
this beautiful hair... But the short hair-cut suited to Remy.
Speaking honestly, everything suited Remy, even that awful
green-and-pink color he dyed his hair once in his teen-age. (He
showed Hank the foto photo once and said that he decided never to
change the color of his hair after that experience.) So Hank took one
of the strands they cut off.
Hank watched the strand thoughtfully, and the images of Remy appeared
in front of his inner gaze. He had figured out that he loved the
Cajun long ago but never gave him a sign of his true feelings. He
understood that he is one of those rare things that didn't suited
Remy. The Cajun was beautiful, as for Hank, he was the most perfect
creature in the world - and Hank himself was just a freak.
Remy was a mysterious person. He seemed to be just a butterfly, with
all his jokes and all his one-night passions, but those who knew him
better saw he wasn't really such a light-minded playboy. Remy was "a
thing in itself". Hank was the one who had the Cajun's trust, and
sometimes Remy told him more the others. He considered Beast to be
his friend, and Hank did his best to not to lose this trust. It was
more than he ever hoped to have.
* * *
/I'm tired... I'm so tired. Not of my training sessions or my nigh'
walks... I'm tired of my nigh'mares which chase me even in de
dayligh'. Dey would be never gone.
/'nd I'm 'fraid. I could keep my past in secret for all dat time but
all de secrets will be learned one day. 'nd when dey'll learn my
secret... No, dey'll not kill moi. Probably dey'll turn deir back t'
me 'nd t'row me out. 'nd I'll loose de only home 'nd de only family
I know./
I filled de bat' wit' de water. Slowly removed my clot'es 'nd glanced
t' de mirror. How does dey say? De angel's smile, de devil's eyes.
Funny...
/I can't wait f'r dis day. No more. De best way's t' leave dis
mansion... 'nd dis world. Now./
I stepped int' de bat'. De water was nicely warm. I took the razor.
De short moment of pain 'nd t'ree bleeding lines on my left hand. I
closed my eyes. De water dropped onto a floor. De sound became softer
and softer... den died...
* * *
Hank was half-sleeping in his bed, and his usual dreams which he
couldn't avoid filled his mind, when the sudden pain pierced his
heart for a moment and then disappeared leaving the strange feeling
of that something terrible had happened right now. Somehow, he knew
that he had to go to Remy's room.
Once there, he examined the room: nothing strange was there. Then he
heard the sound. The drops of water were falling onto the floor in
the bathroom. He opened the door and froze.
Two colours were there: red and white. The white walls. The white
of Remy's skin. Red Remy's hair. Red water in the bath. "Oh God",
Hank said under his breath and pulled Remy from the bath.
At the lab, after the cuts on Remy's hands where bandaged and his
life out of danger, Hank sat on the edge of the bed, and watched the
sleeping Cajun. He had lost a lot of blood and looked even thinner
than usual. His cheekbones looked sharper, and he was pale like paper
but still beautiful.
Hank touched gently Remy's cheek caressing the velvet skin. Suddenly
he bent to him and kissed lightly his still pale but sensual lips.
For a second or two he just enjoyed the feeling of those lips but
then the image appeared in his mind: the furry blue freak was kissing
the handsome young man. The image made him recoil. He glanced at Remy
but the Cajun didn't awake. Hank sighed and went away from the room.
* * *
/I'm alive... Why? Why? My life is useless. I wanted t' die. I wan'
it now. But all my courage's gone./
I watched de moon in de dark sky. My eyes felt as dere was a whole
tube of glue but I forced myself not t' sleep.
/I'm a murderer. Blood covers my hands. I'm doin' a big mistake as I
stay in de mansion. It's much better t' go./
I turned t' de ot'er side. My fingers touched my left hand. Dere were
white lines of scares on de smooth skin. Dey left after dat nigh'
around mont' ago.
/Hank saved me. He wanted t' help. Silly man, he didn' know dat he
only prolon'ed de life of de murderer... He dinks Remy's a good boy.
Dey all dink.../
My eyes closed and I fell into a world of de nigh'mares.
* * *
The round yellow moon was shining in the sky. Hank had started on his
night walk, when sudden clouds and cold rain made him turn back
home. He was opening the door of the mansion when a sound similar to
a quiet scream attracted his attention. It came from the opened
window on the second floor. The window of Gambit's room. In a minute
or two Hank was near the door listening to the silence. No sound. He
knocked the door. No answer. He opened the door and entered the room.
Thin sheets outlined a long lean body curled under them. Hank gently
touched Remy's trembling shoulder. The demon-looking eyes filled with
pain and fear stared at him from the darkness.
"Remy? What happened, my friend?" Hank asked soothingly.
"Not'in'."
"I've heard you screaming."
"'t was jus' a nigh'mare," the Cajun voice was calm, but still
trembled a little.
"Psychologists say that the best way to drive the nightmares away is
to tell somebody about them."
"Never 'eard dis."
"Remy", said Hank firmly, sitting down in front of his teammate.
"Remy, I see something's bothering you. It would be better for you to
tell somebody."
"'tis not y'r business," Gambit hissed.
"It's my business and business of all the X-men because we are the
team, and more, we are the family".
/You are speaking like Scott! He wouldn't listen to you!/
"Ok, mon ami."
Hank looked at Remy in surprise. The Cajun stood up, wrapped a sheet
around his waist and went to the window. Watching the wet darkness of
the night rain he said, "I'll tell y'. Sit down, s'il vous plait,
it will be a lon' story." His voice was calm and without any emotions
when he began, "Once upon a time one boy named Remy lived in
N'Awlins..."
Remy told him everything from his very childhood as a homeless little
thief and sometimes a whore, to his work to Sinister. He knew it was
the end of his life as an X-men and was ready for it. "Now y' know
everyt'in' 'bout dis ol' Cajun", he said finishing his story. "Y'
know... 't was really nesessary f'r me t' tell somebody. Y' mustn't
keep 't in a secret. I'm leavin' in de mornin'. After it y' can tell
oders everyt'in'."
He was ready to any reaction, but not for the strong arms wrapping
lightly around his shoulders and not for the soft voice whispering
gently into his ear, "You will not leave us. You will not leave me."
Hank turned Remy around to face him. The Cajun avoided his gaze but
Beast noticed his eyes blinked with tears. "My dear boy. Your past
wasn't the best, but it's gone. You're not guilty of anything. You
made some mistakes, but who didn't? And you did your best to correct
them. Forget about your past. Your future waits for you."
Remy gazed at him and suddenly burst into tears. Hank pulled his head
to his chest and dropped into a chair. Remy curled in his embrace,
sobbing like a child. Beast murmured meaningless words, soothingly.
After a while, when Remy cried himself to sleep, Hank carried
him onto the bed, covered him with the blanket and started to the
door. But red-on-black eyes opened widely and the Cajun caught his
hand. "No, mon ami. Please don' leave. I can' sleep alone." Hank
stopped and glanced into those begging eyes. Remy asked him to do
what he wanted more than everything in the world, but never dared.
He nodded slowly and pulled himself onto a bed near Remy. Before Hank
could wrap his hands around him, Remy fell into sleep again.
Hank couldn't sleep. He enjoyed the feeling of this fragile but
strong frame he held, the sweet scent of Remy's hair he remembered so
well, the quiet sound of his sleepy breath. He repeated in his mind
the story Remy had told him. /Poor kid... No, he's not a kid.
You're a kid in comparison to him. He is much younger than you but
what do you know about life? You had your loving parents, your
studies and your science. It's the only life you ever knew. And he
knows another side of life which you had never seen... My poor
Remy.../ He began to cover the silky red hair of the Cajun with the
light kisses, but stopped so as not to awake him.
The dawn came. Remy squirmed and opened his eyes, then turned his
head to face Hank. Beast smiled at him, lovingly his pale face, his
exotic eyes still fogged with sleep. Suddenly Remy kissed him on his
lips, first lightly, then deeper.
Hank couldn't move, speak or think. The only thing he could do was to
enjoy the feeling of those fascinating lips on his own and those
hands which slid on his chest. But when Remy's lips moved down to his
neck and ear Hank forced himself to catch the Cajun's hands and pull
him away. He gazed in the surprised eyes:
"You don't have to do it, my dear," Hank said, gently but firmly.
"Why? Y'... y' don' wan' it? Y' don' wan' t' be wid Remy?" He looked
upset.
"No, my dear. God knows I want. But you don't want me, it's just your
empathy..."
"No, Hank! I knew de difference b'tween my empat'y and my own
feelin's. It's me who wan's t' be wid y'... to make love t' y'...
now..."
Remy kissed Hank again. This time Beast could't stop him.
* * *
/Never t'ought dis huge furry homme is such a tender lover... Never
t'ought 'bout him as a lover at all. Why?/
I leaned against his large body. De silky fur tickled me lightly. It
was unexpectedly soft.
/I was sure his fur woul' be coarse. But it's as soft as child's
hair. 'nd his feelin's are even softer... dey wash moi as a warm
waves of tenderness and care.../
Probably he t'ought I was asleep. He turned his head and sighed
inaudibly. Den dose big hands dat held me as a china statuette were
gone. He rose slowly, puttin' my head from his chest t' de pillow,
covered me wid de blanket 'nd went away.
/What happened? Why... why did he left me? I t'hought he liked me...
it seemed t' me he more den liked me, don' know why. But he left.../
His warmt' left my soul. It was empty an' cold. Again.
* * *
Hank couldn't see the wet traces of tears on Remy's face when he left
him and crossed the hallways. He knew that Gambit had a morning
training today and Scott would come to wake him up. Hank didn't
want anybody to know that he had spent this night in Remy's room. The
Cajun had too much different stuff on his soul to add the fact that
he was sleeping with the furry freak.
Beast headed to the labs but changed his mind and went to his room.
He had to be alone for some time... to think over everything that
happened this night.
Today's morning was a dream coming true, his sweet night fantasies
coming to life. But the things the young Cajun told him before
weren't like a dream. He knew that Remy's life before he met the team
was different from the fairy tale, yet he had never imagined just how
different. He could fully understand why Gambit preferred to keep it
all for himself, though most of the X-men had something similar in
their past. The poor kid just needed time and support to get rid off
of the cuffs of his past and to meet his present and his future. And
he needed some support. Hank was ready to offer it - but he wasn't
sure Remy was ready to take it.
He spent the whole day in his room, trying to compose his mind, to
find the way of solving the problems, though his thoughts time after
time slid into marvellous memories and dreams of making love to his
beloved Remy. Hank didn't have any illusions about this point; he
understood pretty well that all that Gambit had said to him about his
and alien emotions could be true. But the Cajun just needed support,
and was only used to getting it from physical contact. But Beast
couldn't prevent himself of useless dreaming about "One evening he'll
knock at my door and..."
Somebody knocked at the door. Beast shut the tome of Shakespeare he had
tried to read to forget about the dreams and said, "Come in!"
"Hank...", the shy Cajun voice sounded like the thunder from the
sunny sky.
Hank swallowed hard and turned to face Gambit.
"Yes, my friend?"
"Y're busy, I'd betta come another time", Remy said hurriedly, as he
noticed the book.
"No!" Beast almost screamed, then repeated more calmly, "No Remy. I
was just re-reading some of my favorite sonnets by Mr. Shakespeare.
There is one of them... listen:
No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
Roses have thorns, and silver fontains mod;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and son,
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud..."
"Yeah, I know dis one," Remy said softly:
"All men make faults, an' even I in dis,
Aut'orizing dy trepass wid compare,
Myself corruptin', salvin' dy amiss,
Exusin' dy sins more dat du sins are..."
"For to my sensual fault I bring in sense," Hank continued looking
into beautiful red-on-black eyes:
"Thy adverse party is thy advocate -
And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence:
Such civil war is in my love and hate
That I an accessory needs must be
To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me."
"Why did y' choose dis sonnet?" Remy asked after few seconds of
silence. "If y' wanna convince me dat all my past isn't my fault..."
"It isn't, my friend. You were the victim of the circumstances."
"Mebbe. But I created dose circumstances myself."
"Did you? Was it you who left the helpless child in the streets? Was
it you who used this helpless child? Was it you who organized the
Massacre?"
"Let's finish dat useless talk." Remy sat down on the floor beside
Hank's armchair and leaned his cheek to the furry arm. "Read
somet'in' else from de sonnets... or de plays, if y' wish."
Hank looked at him in surprise, and obeyed.
* * *
/He likes me. I don' dare t' read his emotions, only allow dis soft
warmt' of his mind 'nd soul t' cover my own, but why else does he
welcome me in his room f'r all dose evenin's 'nd comes willin'ly t'
my room f'r all dose nights?/
I stared at de ceilin', remindin' myself of de evenin's and nighs I
spent wid Hank. It became usual, but never a rutina. After all de
noisy days full of trainin's, missions, oder stuff - hour's of talks
or silence, of relaxation, when my hand was in his, 'nd his breat'e
was near my ear. 'nd de nights of tenderness 'nd warmt' - an' widout
de nightmares which were simply de memories from my past.
/Why does he still like me, after he knows who I am? A mystery. But de
fact dat he knows it explains why he leaves me.../
Every mornin', ten minutes before de alarm ran', he left me. If I
fell asleep in his room I awoke in mine. Alone. Like I was laying
dat time, wid de t'oughts rollin' heavily inside my head. But today
it's different. He left for de Muir island. He said he would be back
in a week. It was five days ago. It meant two days more - two nights
more - I had to spend widout him. It meant de five nights of de
nightmares I had already 'nd de two nights else. But I found out one
intresting t'ing durin' dis time...
/Y' know Hank when y' kissed me farewell I t'ought it would be hard
for me to meet my nightmares again. But it wasn' de hardest t'ing. De
hardest t'ing was to spend dose lonely evenin's widout y'./
I held the pillow an' closed my eyes. Next evening would be easier, I
hoped, as we have some kind of a beer party... it would help t' spend
de last bit of waiting. And when Hank'll be back I'll tell him
somet'ing...
* * *
The taxi stopped in front the mansion. Hank paid the driver and
entered the building. He had a duffel bag in the one hand and a
single red rose in the other, and a shy soft smile appeared on his
lips as he went upstairs.
He passed the hallways and waited for a second before opening the
door of Remy's room. The smile died on his lips. Remy wasn't alone.
He was sleeping, laying on his side, facing the door, the corners
of his lips were up. Logan was sleeping behind him, holding him
tightly, and Remy's long fingers laced with Logan's thick ones.
Hank closed the door carefully for not to awake them and headed to
his lab, the only place in the whole world he felt himself at home.
Only five minutes ago he was stupid enough to think that there was
another home for him, the place where Remy was. He was wrong.
* * *
/Hank.../
De sound of de closin' door awoke me partly woke me. I didn't opened
my eyes, just prefered t' remember all I could from dese unrepeatable
minutes of sleepy mornin'. I traced de hand dat held me wid my
fingers expecting de familiar feelin' of the soft fur. But my fingers
met only de coarse curls of hair.
/Logan? What de hell... Oh merde!/
De sudden headache sent de red circles in front of my eyes. Yesterday
I drank too much, and Logan had to ride me on his bike...
/Logan! Merde! Remy LeBeau, y' know y' can' win Logan in drinkin'!
What de hell y' t'inking? What if Hank see y... Oh God's shit! Hank!
He returns today in de mornin'.../
I shivered at de t'ought. De sound of de closin' door... Oh no! I
jumped from de bed, got dressed an' ran away ignorin' an awoken
Logan's questions.
* * *
Hank was sitting near the table looking at the red rose. Remy stopped
in the door not knowing what to say or to do. Hank glanced at him,
and a sad smile appeared on his lips. The Cajun saw the tears in his
eyes. He came and suddenly kneeled before him.
"Hank... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... It's my damned empat'y, I was too
drunk yesturday t' control myself. Can y' ever forgive me?" Beast
looked at him in surprise. He stood up and made Remy to do the same.
"Nothing to forgive, my dear. You can do everything you want."
Remy couldn't meet those eyes filled with love and tears. His
attention was attracted by the rose on the table, and he said just to
say something, "This rose..."
"Is for you, my dear", Hank finished the sentence softly presenting
him the flower.
"Oh, chere. It's beautiful."
"But not as beautiful as you are, my dear", Hank said. Remy lifted
his exotic eyes. The tears appeared in them. Hank worried.
"What's up? Why are you crying?"
"I love y', chere. I love y' so much", Remy answered queitly.
Hank's eyes widened, he stood still not knowing what to say or to do.
It was unbelievable. But it was true.
Remy took a short step and kissed him.
Author: Russian_Girl (saint-olga@yandex.ru)
Archive: yes, just let me know where
Fandom: X-Men
Pairing: Gambit/Beast
Rating: PG13
Summary: just a simple love story
Notes: first of all, thanks to my wonderful beta, Mez/TDM!
* * *
He looked around and entered the room. He felt a light scent, sweet
and exotic; for him, it was the best smell in the world. It was one
of those rare days when he was alone in the mansion and could be
here. He walked through the room noticing everything: the forgotten
card on the floor, the book of poetry on the table near the bed, the
shirt on the chair. He took it to his face. The same smell, much
stronger then it was in the air touched his nostrils.
At that moment a strange creature gazed at him from the mirror - huge,
with abnormally long hands and legs, covered with the blue fur. He
sighed sadly. His reflection remembered him of who he was. A monster.
A beast.
Henry McCoy a.k.a. Beast left the room.
He returned to his lab, the only place in the whole mansion where he
really felt at home. He tried to do his studies for a while but there
was a thing in the lab that called for him. He opened a small box
that was hidden inside his desk. There was a strand of auburn-red
hair there, curled as a spiral. Hank touched it with his fingertips
and was again surprised of how silky it felt. He remembered the day
when he had got it. Gambit returned from the mission with his hair
partly burned, and they had to cut it off. It was such a pity to cut
this beautiful hair... But the short hair-cut suited to Remy.
Speaking honestly, everything suited Remy, even that awful
green-and-pink color he dyed his hair once in his teen-age. (He
showed Hank the foto photo once and said that he decided never to
change the color of his hair after that experience.) So Hank took one
of the strands they cut off.
Hank watched the strand thoughtfully, and the images of Remy appeared
in front of his inner gaze. He had figured out that he loved the
Cajun long ago but never gave him a sign of his true feelings. He
understood that he is one of those rare things that didn't suited
Remy. The Cajun was beautiful, as for Hank, he was the most perfect
creature in the world - and Hank himself was just a freak.
Remy was a mysterious person. He seemed to be just a butterfly, with
all his jokes and all his one-night passions, but those who knew him
better saw he wasn't really such a light-minded playboy. Remy was "a
thing in itself". Hank was the one who had the Cajun's trust, and
sometimes Remy told him more the others. He considered Beast to be
his friend, and Hank did his best to not to lose this trust. It was
more than he ever hoped to have.
* * *
/I'm tired... I'm so tired. Not of my training sessions or my nigh'
walks... I'm tired of my nigh'mares which chase me even in de
dayligh'. Dey would be never gone.
/'nd I'm 'fraid. I could keep my past in secret for all dat time but
all de secrets will be learned one day. 'nd when dey'll learn my
secret... No, dey'll not kill moi. Probably dey'll turn deir back t'
me 'nd t'row me out. 'nd I'll loose de only home 'nd de only family
I know./
I filled de bat' wit' de water. Slowly removed my clot'es 'nd glanced
t' de mirror. How does dey say? De angel's smile, de devil's eyes.
Funny...
/I can't wait f'r dis day. No more. De best way's t' leave dis
mansion... 'nd dis world. Now./
I stepped int' de bat'. De water was nicely warm. I took the razor.
De short moment of pain 'nd t'ree bleeding lines on my left hand. I
closed my eyes. De water dropped onto a floor. De sound became softer
and softer... den died...
* * *
Hank was half-sleeping in his bed, and his usual dreams which he
couldn't avoid filled his mind, when the sudden pain pierced his
heart for a moment and then disappeared leaving the strange feeling
of that something terrible had happened right now. Somehow, he knew
that he had to go to Remy's room.
Once there, he examined the room: nothing strange was there. Then he
heard the sound. The drops of water were falling onto the floor in
the bathroom. He opened the door and froze.
Two colours were there: red and white. The white walls. The white
of Remy's skin. Red Remy's hair. Red water in the bath. "Oh God",
Hank said under his breath and pulled Remy from the bath.
At the lab, after the cuts on Remy's hands where bandaged and his
life out of danger, Hank sat on the edge of the bed, and watched the
sleeping Cajun. He had lost a lot of blood and looked even thinner
than usual. His cheekbones looked sharper, and he was pale like paper
but still beautiful.
Hank touched gently Remy's cheek caressing the velvet skin. Suddenly
he bent to him and kissed lightly his still pale but sensual lips.
For a second or two he just enjoyed the feeling of those lips but
then the image appeared in his mind: the furry blue freak was kissing
the handsome young man. The image made him recoil. He glanced at Remy
but the Cajun didn't awake. Hank sighed and went away from the room.
* * *
/I'm alive... Why? Why? My life is useless. I wanted t' die. I wan'
it now. But all my courage's gone./
I watched de moon in de dark sky. My eyes felt as dere was a whole
tube of glue but I forced myself not t' sleep.
/I'm a murderer. Blood covers my hands. I'm doin' a big mistake as I
stay in de mansion. It's much better t' go./
I turned t' de ot'er side. My fingers touched my left hand. Dere were
white lines of scares on de smooth skin. Dey left after dat nigh'
around mont' ago.
/Hank saved me. He wanted t' help. Silly man, he didn' know dat he
only prolon'ed de life of de murderer... He dinks Remy's a good boy.
Dey all dink.../
My eyes closed and I fell into a world of de nigh'mares.
* * *
The round yellow moon was shining in the sky. Hank had started on his
night walk, when sudden clouds and cold rain made him turn back
home. He was opening the door of the mansion when a sound similar to
a quiet scream attracted his attention. It came from the opened
window on the second floor. The window of Gambit's room. In a minute
or two Hank was near the door listening to the silence. No sound. He
knocked the door. No answer. He opened the door and entered the room.
Thin sheets outlined a long lean body curled under them. Hank gently
touched Remy's trembling shoulder. The demon-looking eyes filled with
pain and fear stared at him from the darkness.
"Remy? What happened, my friend?" Hank asked soothingly.
"Not'in'."
"I've heard you screaming."
"'t was jus' a nigh'mare," the Cajun voice was calm, but still
trembled a little.
"Psychologists say that the best way to drive the nightmares away is
to tell somebody about them."
"Never 'eard dis."
"Remy", said Hank firmly, sitting down in front of his teammate.
"Remy, I see something's bothering you. It would be better for you to
tell somebody."
"'tis not y'r business," Gambit hissed.
"It's my business and business of all the X-men because we are the
team, and more, we are the family".
/You are speaking like Scott! He wouldn't listen to you!/
"Ok, mon ami."
Hank looked at Remy in surprise. The Cajun stood up, wrapped a sheet
around his waist and went to the window. Watching the wet darkness of
the night rain he said, "I'll tell y'. Sit down, s'il vous plait,
it will be a lon' story." His voice was calm and without any emotions
when he began, "Once upon a time one boy named Remy lived in
N'Awlins..."
Remy told him everything from his very childhood as a homeless little
thief and sometimes a whore, to his work to Sinister. He knew it was
the end of his life as an X-men and was ready for it. "Now y' know
everyt'in' 'bout dis ol' Cajun", he said finishing his story. "Y'
know... 't was really nesessary f'r me t' tell somebody. Y' mustn't
keep 't in a secret. I'm leavin' in de mornin'. After it y' can tell
oders everyt'in'."
He was ready to any reaction, but not for the strong arms wrapping
lightly around his shoulders and not for the soft voice whispering
gently into his ear, "You will not leave us. You will not leave me."
Hank turned Remy around to face him. The Cajun avoided his gaze but
Beast noticed his eyes blinked with tears. "My dear boy. Your past
wasn't the best, but it's gone. You're not guilty of anything. You
made some mistakes, but who didn't? And you did your best to correct
them. Forget about your past. Your future waits for you."
Remy gazed at him and suddenly burst into tears. Hank pulled his head
to his chest and dropped into a chair. Remy curled in his embrace,
sobbing like a child. Beast murmured meaningless words, soothingly.
After a while, when Remy cried himself to sleep, Hank carried
him onto the bed, covered him with the blanket and started to the
door. But red-on-black eyes opened widely and the Cajun caught his
hand. "No, mon ami. Please don' leave. I can' sleep alone." Hank
stopped and glanced into those begging eyes. Remy asked him to do
what he wanted more than everything in the world, but never dared.
He nodded slowly and pulled himself onto a bed near Remy. Before Hank
could wrap his hands around him, Remy fell into sleep again.
Hank couldn't sleep. He enjoyed the feeling of this fragile but
strong frame he held, the sweet scent of Remy's hair he remembered so
well, the quiet sound of his sleepy breath. He repeated in his mind
the story Remy had told him. /Poor kid... No, he's not a kid.
You're a kid in comparison to him. He is much younger than you but
what do you know about life? You had your loving parents, your
studies and your science. It's the only life you ever knew. And he
knows another side of life which you had never seen... My poor
Remy.../ He began to cover the silky red hair of the Cajun with the
light kisses, but stopped so as not to awake him.
The dawn came. Remy squirmed and opened his eyes, then turned his
head to face Hank. Beast smiled at him, lovingly his pale face, his
exotic eyes still fogged with sleep. Suddenly Remy kissed him on his
lips, first lightly, then deeper.
Hank couldn't move, speak or think. The only thing he could do was to
enjoy the feeling of those fascinating lips on his own and those
hands which slid on his chest. But when Remy's lips moved down to his
neck and ear Hank forced himself to catch the Cajun's hands and pull
him away. He gazed in the surprised eyes:
"You don't have to do it, my dear," Hank said, gently but firmly.
"Why? Y'... y' don' wan' it? Y' don' wan' t' be wid Remy?" He looked
upset.
"No, my dear. God knows I want. But you don't want me, it's just your
empathy..."
"No, Hank! I knew de difference b'tween my empat'y and my own
feelin's. It's me who wan's t' be wid y'... to make love t' y'...
now..."
Remy kissed Hank again. This time Beast could't stop him.
* * *
/Never t'ought dis huge furry homme is such a tender lover... Never
t'ought 'bout him as a lover at all. Why?/
I leaned against his large body. De silky fur tickled me lightly. It
was unexpectedly soft.
/I was sure his fur woul' be coarse. But it's as soft as child's
hair. 'nd his feelin's are even softer... dey wash moi as a warm
waves of tenderness and care.../
Probably he t'ought I was asleep. He turned his head and sighed
inaudibly. Den dose big hands dat held me as a china statuette were
gone. He rose slowly, puttin' my head from his chest t' de pillow,
covered me wid de blanket 'nd went away.
/What happened? Why... why did he left me? I t'hought he liked me...
it seemed t' me he more den liked me, don' know why. But he left.../
His warmt' left my soul. It was empty an' cold. Again.
* * *
Hank couldn't see the wet traces of tears on Remy's face when he left
him and crossed the hallways. He knew that Gambit had a morning
training today and Scott would come to wake him up. Hank didn't
want anybody to know that he had spent this night in Remy's room. The
Cajun had too much different stuff on his soul to add the fact that
he was sleeping with the furry freak.
Beast headed to the labs but changed his mind and went to his room.
He had to be alone for some time... to think over everything that
happened this night.
Today's morning was a dream coming true, his sweet night fantasies
coming to life. But the things the young Cajun told him before
weren't like a dream. He knew that Remy's life before he met the team
was different from the fairy tale, yet he had never imagined just how
different. He could fully understand why Gambit preferred to keep it
all for himself, though most of the X-men had something similar in
their past. The poor kid just needed time and support to get rid off
of the cuffs of his past and to meet his present and his future. And
he needed some support. Hank was ready to offer it - but he wasn't
sure Remy was ready to take it.
He spent the whole day in his room, trying to compose his mind, to
find the way of solving the problems, though his thoughts time after
time slid into marvellous memories and dreams of making love to his
beloved Remy. Hank didn't have any illusions about this point; he
understood pretty well that all that Gambit had said to him about his
and alien emotions could be true. But the Cajun just needed support,
and was only used to getting it from physical contact. But Beast
couldn't prevent himself of useless dreaming about "One evening he'll
knock at my door and..."
Somebody knocked at the door. Beast shut the tome of Shakespeare he had
tried to read to forget about the dreams and said, "Come in!"
"Hank...", the shy Cajun voice sounded like the thunder from the
sunny sky.
Hank swallowed hard and turned to face Gambit.
"Yes, my friend?"
"Y're busy, I'd betta come another time", Remy said hurriedly, as he
noticed the book.
"No!" Beast almost screamed, then repeated more calmly, "No Remy. I
was just re-reading some of my favorite sonnets by Mr. Shakespeare.
There is one of them... listen:
No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
Roses have thorns, and silver fontains mod;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and son,
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud..."
"Yeah, I know dis one," Remy said softly:
"All men make faults, an' even I in dis,
Aut'orizing dy trepass wid compare,
Myself corruptin', salvin' dy amiss,
Exusin' dy sins more dat du sins are..."
"For to my sensual fault I bring in sense," Hank continued looking
into beautiful red-on-black eyes:
"Thy adverse party is thy advocate -
And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence:
Such civil war is in my love and hate
That I an accessory needs must be
To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me."
"Why did y' choose dis sonnet?" Remy asked after few seconds of
silence. "If y' wanna convince me dat all my past isn't my fault..."
"It isn't, my friend. You were the victim of the circumstances."
"Mebbe. But I created dose circumstances myself."
"Did you? Was it you who left the helpless child in the streets? Was
it you who used this helpless child? Was it you who organized the
Massacre?"
"Let's finish dat useless talk." Remy sat down on the floor beside
Hank's armchair and leaned his cheek to the furry arm. "Read
somet'in' else from de sonnets... or de plays, if y' wish."
Hank looked at him in surprise, and obeyed.
* * *
/He likes me. I don' dare t' read his emotions, only allow dis soft
warmt' of his mind 'nd soul t' cover my own, but why else does he
welcome me in his room f'r all dose evenin's 'nd comes willin'ly t'
my room f'r all dose nights?/
I stared at de ceilin', remindin' myself of de evenin's and nighs I
spent wid Hank. It became usual, but never a rutina. After all de
noisy days full of trainin's, missions, oder stuff - hour's of talks
or silence, of relaxation, when my hand was in his, 'nd his breat'e
was near my ear. 'nd de nights of tenderness 'nd warmt' - an' widout
de nightmares which were simply de memories from my past.
/Why does he still like me, after he knows who I am? A mystery. But de
fact dat he knows it explains why he leaves me.../
Every mornin', ten minutes before de alarm ran', he left me. If I
fell asleep in his room I awoke in mine. Alone. Like I was laying
dat time, wid de t'oughts rollin' heavily inside my head. But today
it's different. He left for de Muir island. He said he would be back
in a week. It was five days ago. It meant two days more - two nights
more - I had to spend widout him. It meant de five nights of de
nightmares I had already 'nd de two nights else. But I found out one
intresting t'ing durin' dis time...
/Y' know Hank when y' kissed me farewell I t'ought it would be hard
for me to meet my nightmares again. But it wasn' de hardest t'ing. De
hardest t'ing was to spend dose lonely evenin's widout y'./
I held the pillow an' closed my eyes. Next evening would be easier, I
hoped, as we have some kind of a beer party... it would help t' spend
de last bit of waiting. And when Hank'll be back I'll tell him
somet'ing...
* * *
The taxi stopped in front the mansion. Hank paid the driver and
entered the building. He had a duffel bag in the one hand and a
single red rose in the other, and a shy soft smile appeared on his
lips as he went upstairs.
He passed the hallways and waited for a second before opening the
door of Remy's room. The smile died on his lips. Remy wasn't alone.
He was sleeping, laying on his side, facing the door, the corners
of his lips were up. Logan was sleeping behind him, holding him
tightly, and Remy's long fingers laced with Logan's thick ones.
Hank closed the door carefully for not to awake them and headed to
his lab, the only place in the whole world he felt himself at home.
Only five minutes ago he was stupid enough to think that there was
another home for him, the place where Remy was. He was wrong.
* * *
/Hank.../
De sound of de closin' door awoke me partly woke me. I didn't opened
my eyes, just prefered t' remember all I could from dese unrepeatable
minutes of sleepy mornin'. I traced de hand dat held me wid my
fingers expecting de familiar feelin' of the soft fur. But my fingers
met only de coarse curls of hair.
/Logan? What de hell... Oh merde!/
De sudden headache sent de red circles in front of my eyes. Yesterday
I drank too much, and Logan had to ride me on his bike...
/Logan! Merde! Remy LeBeau, y' know y' can' win Logan in drinkin'!
What de hell y' t'inking? What if Hank see y... Oh God's shit! Hank!
He returns today in de mornin'.../
I shivered at de t'ought. De sound of de closin' door... Oh no! I
jumped from de bed, got dressed an' ran away ignorin' an awoken
Logan's questions.
* * *
Hank was sitting near the table looking at the red rose. Remy stopped
in the door not knowing what to say or to do. Hank glanced at him,
and a sad smile appeared on his lips. The Cajun saw the tears in his
eyes. He came and suddenly kneeled before him.
"Hank... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... It's my damned empat'y, I was too
drunk yesturday t' control myself. Can y' ever forgive me?" Beast
looked at him in surprise. He stood up and made Remy to do the same.
"Nothing to forgive, my dear. You can do everything you want."
Remy couldn't meet those eyes filled with love and tears. His
attention was attracted by the rose on the table, and he said just to
say something, "This rose..."
"Is for you, my dear", Hank finished the sentence softly presenting
him the flower.
"Oh, chere. It's beautiful."
"But not as beautiful as you are, my dear", Hank said. Remy lifted
his exotic eyes. The tears appeared in them. Hank worried.
"What's up? Why are you crying?"
"I love y', chere. I love y' so much", Remy answered queitly.
Hank's eyes widened, he stood still not knowing what to say or to do.
It was unbelievable. But it was true.
Remy took a short step and kissed him.