and just because you kissed
your brother
it doesn't mean to say you're gay
cause even when you're fuckin' him
it doesn't mean you don't love me
do what you want, be what you want to be
-Spacehog, "Space is the Place"
He'd seen his blonde teammate take off on his own toward the river, and was honestly worried. He'd had enough battles with Rogue during the tenure of their relationship (not to mention his previous relationships… and marriage…) to know the look on Sam Guthrie's face for what it was.
Must have fought with his woman.
Remy go talk to him, he thought, charitably. No one know a broken heart like Remy LeBeau.
When he reached the bank, he saw a pile of clothes in the moonlight, and a blonde head bobbing away out in the current. And he could've sworn the man was… singing to himself.
He took a heavy drag on his cigarette, and smiled. "'Dat an Elvis song, mon ami? Somt'in 'bout Heartbreak Hotel?"
A splash, then a sigh, and Sam's moonlit face looked up at him, pale as a ghost. "Jesus Christ, Gambit, scare the shit out of me!"
Remy only smiled, eyes glowing red even though the rest of him was completely shadowed. He was standing under a tree like that on purpose, just so that's all Sam would see. That and the cigarette. Nonchalantly, he began taking off layers. First his coat… "How's 'de water?"
"Kinda' warm," he sighed, laying back on his back to float, the water causing his blue boxers to billow up around him.
What kinda' superhero wear boxers? Remy thought. Don' it get in 'de way of his costume?
"Don' mind if Remy join you?"
"Whatever," Cannonball was positively listless.
Remy stripped his remaining layers, down to the black boxer briefs (obviously the better choice,) and slid into the water, feeling the mud squish between his toes. Ah. Now that felt like home. "Lila say somt'in you didn' like?" He finally asked, letting himself float downstream toward his teammate.
"How'd ya guess?" His sarcasm was palpable.
Taking another drag, the Cajun shrugged, standing back upright. "Got good instinct 'bout women. Don' let it worry you, she come back aroun'."
"Yeah, that's easy for you ta say," Sam's accent was, apparently, even more twangy when he pouted, Gambit noticed. "Women fall all over themselves when you come inta the room."
"'Dey don' mind sneakin' a look at you first, seems to me. It ain't about de look."
"Ah know," he kept pouting, clearly inconsolable. "She's just… somethin' else."
Remy nodded his agreement, now standing at the floating man's side. "Oui. But den, aren't dey all?"
"Women confuse me. I cain't tell how ta get across what it is I want."
"Men even more confusing, trust Remy when he say 'dat. Not as pretty, neither."
A splash, and Cannonball was standing upright in the river, facing him, with a surprised look on his face. "You never dated men!"
Gambit threw his cigarette away into the river, with what he knew to be a patronizing chuckle, "Lot o' thin's you don' know bout Remy, non?"
They were both positively dripping now, Gambit's auburn mop dark and hanging long and clingy, dripping onto his broad shoulders, Cannonball's short blonde cut shining bright under the moon, skin starting to turn to gooseflesh in the breeze that was building. Remy was unaffected by it, but all over the planes and angles of Sam's torso, small bumps were popping up.
It not 'dat cold out here. Wonder what's wrong with de man…
"How come we never heard a' it?"
"It bother you, homme?" Gambit inquired. Sam had never seemed like the type to be homophobic, and he was surprised to see the shock in his friend's eyes.
He shook his head, "No. No, doesn't bother me. Just… Ah don't know."
Ahh… So dat's what he need…
He stepped closer, took Sam's face in his hand. "You come down here t' relax, non?"
The other man nodded slightly, once, without shaking his hand off.
Pretty boy, really. Nice jaw line. He ran his hand over it, softly. Heroic. Far more heroic than his own cat-like, lanky look. Perfect. Yeah. He could do this. "Remy real good at relaxin' folk."
Sam smiled now, and Remy noticed how lopsided it was. "Ah believe that."
He still didn't know what the fight was about. But he could bet that when he was done, Sam wouldn't remember either. Perhaps the boy should think about… switching teams, if this was what he was looking for.
AN: That's all folks. Again, hate mail to XBeaubier@hotmail.com!
Silver: Ach, just the sort of creepy I wanted!
Peanut: Glad I almost managed to convince you of the wonders of girl-on-girl ;) thanks for the compliment, and for being such a faithful reviewer. I'll send you a message when next I see ya online.
Wulfsbayne: Glad you enjoyed ;) I admit, this last one was pure self-indulgence… but I figured I might as well share.