Title: Heaven sent 5

Author: Morgana (morganalebeau@yahoo.com)

Website: http://www.oocities.org/morganalebeau/

_______________________________________________________

 

Heaven sent

By Morgana

 

Chapter Eighteen

"Okay, old boy. Take a deep breath." Warren doesn't have a clue what to say to Remy, or how to apologize and declare his love. Hopefully the words will come easily once he's inside. "Please forgive me, Remy," he says, rehearsing probably the most important words in his life. Resolved, he knocks on the door.
"Oui?" Remy looks up from the book he's reading. He knows better than to try and leave his room. Poppa has his ways to make him feel guilty like hell. And even more importantly, doctor Mansour was just here to check on him. The physician urged him to stay in bed, as the wound isn't healing as quickly as it should.
"Oui? Come 'side?" He wonders who it is this time. Poppa or Logan? The two men seem to have developed a routine, checking on him at least once an hour. Oui, poppa trusts him, but poppa also knows he tends to overestimate his strength and go for short walks instead.
As the door doesn't open, he grows worried. Did one of the assassins find his way inside? Good thing he always keeps the prototype of his Bo-staff near the bed. Can't hurt to be too careful.
Angered by his own cowardice, Warren finally opens the door and steps inside, uncertain what to say. His eyes immediately find the Cajun's and the disbelief in them stuns him. Logan is right. Remy never expected him back.
"Warren?" Shocked, the book he's reading falls from his hands and onto the floor. Did his poppa feed him the sedative after all? He must be hallucinating! It's the only explanation!
"Remy," Warren whispers the name and his heart suddenly picks up speed, pounding madly. "You look better," he says relieved. Although the dark circles under Remy's eyes have only slightly lessened, he takes comfort in the fact that the Cajun has gained a little weight. The cut on his brow has healed, leaving a scar.
Unable to believe that Warren is standing in his room, Remy simply stares at him. Speechless, his eyes beg for an explanation. He has to say something, but? "You're here to take me up on dat dinner invitation?" Mon Dieu, it sounds stupid! He tries to regulate his erratic breathing. He hoped his angel would return but?
"Remy? Can we talk?" Slowly, Warren makes his way over to the bed. He waits for an answer before sitting down.
"Mais oui, glad you're back," Remy whispers awkwardly. The hooded expression in Warren's eyes makes him tremble. "How is de wound? Your wing?" It doesn't matter how long this visit will last, he's going to savour every second of it!
His hands twist in his lap, eager to reach out and curl around Warren's, but he stops himself. Quickly, he pulls up the comforter and pushes his hands underneath his buttocks. He can't make the mistake of touching Warren now. He might never want to let go again!
"I'm fine, Remy. How is your side?" Briefly, his eyes darken at the realization that Remy was willing to die for him. Bets would never save his ass like that. //I've been so stupid!//
"Doctor says it will be fine once I stop movin' 'bout so much," Remy admits in a guilty tone. "Only went to de badroom!"
Warren smiles weakly at that tone. //Damn! I should have stayed here to take care of him! Instead, I ran!// He shifts on the side of the bed, moving a little closer. "Then stop moving about, Remy." The affection in his tone surprises him and he knows he has to make his admission quickly.
Remy's smile brightens. "Merci for carin', ange."
Hearing that little nickname gets to Warren. Even after deserting Remy, it's still ange. "Remy, I owe you one big, fat apology." Remy raises an eyebrow and Warren realizes the Cajun has no idea what he's talking about. //Probably convinced himself that I don't care and I can't blame him!//
"What for? No apology neces?" he shuts up, seeing Warren's glare. Whatever Warren has to say is important to the man.
"I chickened out," Warren rubs his brow. "I simply ran when things got complicated, leaving you to deal with everything on your own. I am so sorry I did that. Please forgive me, Remy." Warren avoids Remy's eyes, waiting for the anger at being abandoned to surface. He really messed up big time!
"Mais, ange. It's bien, don' worry 'bout it." Remy's right hand sneaks on top of the comforter and rubs Warren's fingers. Remy never realizes he's doing it.
"De assassins want to kill you. You had to leave. I understand." It means so much to him that Warren's back but? "You should have stayed 'way, mon ami. Assassins don' give up easy." His heart misses a beat, realizing the danger Warren's in. "You need to leave N'Awlins, ange."
Warren stares at Remy's fingers, resting on his hand. Unfamiliar with such intimate contact, he slightly draws back. "I'm not leaving without you," he states resolved, fearing for Remy's reaction. The pain in his heart increases, as he realizes that Remy doesn't blame him for walking away. The Cajun forgives him and that infuriates him. Why isn't Remy mad at him? Yelling and telling him to leave?
Bewildered, Remy shakes his head. "Funny, t'ought de effect of de meds had worn off? now I'm hearin' t'ings?Sorry, what did you say, ange?" Next time, poppa won't talk him into taking his meds that easily! He did wake up this morning, didn't he? So that rules out this being a dream!
"I said," Warren repeats, this time with some amusement in his tone, "That I'm only leaving the city if you're coming with me, Remy."
"You sure? I babble all de time? fall 'sleep at de most crazy times and?" Suddenly, he stops talking. "Why are you laughing?"
"Did it ever occur to you to say no?" Warren quips, relieved that this talk is going so well. He was seriously worried that Remy would refuse to talk to him. But he is still being a coward, not touching on his feelings for the Cajun.
"Non!" Remy replies teasingly and suddenly grows aware of Warren's fingers twined with his. Merde! When did he reach out to Warren? And come to think of it, why is Warren returning the caress? "Ange?"
"There's something else I need to tell you, something important." Warren firmly clasps his fingers around Remy's. "I'm the biggest asshole in the world for walking out on you. No! Listen!" he cuts Remy short, as the Cajun wants to protest. "Listen!"
For once, Remy gives in, wondering what has gotten into Warren. Why is the man so serious?
"The reason I came back is because I can't stop thinking about you." Remy's big eyes make him smile. "Every time I close my eyes, I see your face. Every time I fall asleep, I see your eyes. I want you close, Remy."
"Why?" His voice trembles audibly. He never gets lucky, so why would this time be different? "Because you feel guilty for dat knife incident? I made de decision to jump in dere?" Again, Warren silences him with a glance, incredibly soft and -for the first Remy can finally admit it- unbelievably sexy.
"No, I want you with me for a different reason." He knows he's stalling, but suddenly he's lost for words. How do you declare your love for another man? Bobby would probably chide him, telling him to follow his instincts.
"Ange?" Remy smiles, entranced by the possibilities, yet still too afraid to hope.
"You want to know why I deserted you?" Warren asks in a trembling tone, meeting Remy's eyes. //God, they're so expressive! It's like I can read his every desire, hope or fear in them!// How could he ever think of them as devil's eyes? He did, when he first met Remy LeBeau.
"Oui, why did you go 'way?" Remy tries pulling back his hand, wondering if his closeness is making him nervous, but Warren shakes his head, stopping his action. Soft fingers caress his and make him go weak. "Ange?"
"I ran because I have feelings for you," Warren says after taking a deep breath. He's doing okay this far, now he needs to get the rest out. "I ran because I've never been in love with a man before and you? you scare me."
"Scare you?" Remy's heart is beating in a mad rhythm. Did Warren just confess to being in love with him? How can that be?
"Yes, you scare me." There, he said it. "You're so? damn passionate and forgiving! First, I fly off the handle because you saved me from the sniper and then? damn, you nursed me back to health, took care of my wing and all that while you were scared."
"Ange?" Lost, he holds onto Warren's hand.
"You told me that you think I'm here to judge you, remember?" Warren reminds him.
"Oui, dat's vrai," he admits shaken. "And now? What changed?"
"You remember Bobby Drake? Ice Cube?" Warren smiles fondly, hoping so badly that Remy does remember Drake.
"Oui, I think I do," Remy admits.
"He kicked my sorry butt back to New Orleans. Told me not to throw your love away and? here I am." Nervously, he waits for Remy's reply.
But Remy's still trying to work this out. Except for poppa and tante no one ever told him that they loved him. Warren coming back and making this confession seems like an episode from the Twilight Zone, which he used to watch. "You love me?"
"I am in love with you, Remy and I want to take you to a safe place. New Orleans is too dangerous for both of us. Your father promised to help us get to Ireland in one piece? if you'll have me." Warren looks at their intertwined fingers. It still feels odd. He's not used to touching people. His father always made sure there was a proper, formal distance between them.
"Question is, Remy, do you want me?" Asking that question frightens him. What if Remy tells him to go to hell? "I am not entitled to a second chance, I know that, Remy. But please? I really want to make this work." Truthfully, he can't imagine life without the Cajun, not now Remy's this close, reminding him of what he callously threw away days ago.
"If you tell me no, I will leave and never bother you again," he promises defeated. Remy's silence worries him. Has to be a bad sign! He forces himself to be quiet. Jean-Luc is right. This is Remy's decision!
His mind is spinning and he has trouble focusing on Warren, who bowed his head. During all these drugged night, he dreamt that Warren was sitting at his bed, holding his hand like he's doing now. Telling him, how much he loves him. Now that it's happening, he can't believe it.
Unable to bear the silence any longer, Warren says, "Can you give me a second chance, Rem?"
//Rem? he called me dat before? durin' de nightmares!// His eyes search Warren's and he only encounters truth and affection. Warren Worthington the Third is speaking the truth!
"I had a dream once? about you," Warren starts, now really concerned that Remy's spacing out on him. "You asked me if I can love you and the answer is yes. You'll have to be patient with me, though. Remy?" Scared shitless of being rejected he leans in closer to study Remy's eyes. "Please talk to me."
"Ireland?" Remy mumbles in disbelief. "You want to go to Ireland?"
Relieved, Warren nods his head. "I got a small cottage there. Nothing fancy. No castle or manor, but? I would love to live there with you, help you heal, get to know you." He's said all he can.
Remy cocks his head. "Do you love me? Really love me? You know 'bout de? Antiquary? what he did to me?" Speaking the name isn't as hard as it used to be, but the old pain is still there. Thanks to that vile bastard he will always feel tainted, inferior? not complete.
"Yes, I know. How could I not?" Warren's tone softens seeing the anguish on Remy's face. "I held you during that first nightmare? You begged me not to touch you. Didn't take me long to figure things out."
"And you still want me?" Remy asks to be sure. "Don' get me wrong, I am flattered, mais you don' strike me as a man who?"
"What?" Warren sneaks a little closer. Their bodies aren't touching, but he wants to see every emotion in those eyes.
Remy pushes back into the pillows, which support his body now that he's sitting up. "I ain' an easy person to be 'round, ange. I'm trouble."
"Told you before that I am trouble too," Warren says, feeling hopeful. At least Remy isn't rejecting him. Clinging to their joined hands he says, "Will you give me a chance to make you happy? Oh, I'll screw up things, but hopefully?"
This time it's Remy who silences him. "Ireland? Never been dere."
"I take it that's yes, oui?" Warren adds teasingly, immensely relieved. "I was so afraid I fucked up, Remy and that you wouldn't give me that chance. God knows that I don't deserve it."
"I can' understand why you want me as your lover," Remy admits. "You can do so much better, ange, mais if dis is what you want, I would be a fool not to take you up on de offer." He isn't sure why he just accepted Warren as his new love, but it's a hell of a lot better than being alone!
Warren reads some of Remy's fear in his eyes. "You're not the only one who's nervous about this," he assures the Cajun. Unexpectedly, Remy's fingers tighten around his in reassurance. "But I want this to work, Rem."
"Cher," he whispers passionately. "Will try and make you happy."
Warren smiles, amazed at Remy's reaction. He really wants to kiss those lips, but can't. They belong to a man and he's still not comfortable with that. No matter what Bobby said, he needs time to convince himself that this is right. So instead he rubs Remy's fingers. "Think you can leave this afternoon? Your father mentioned that the assassins are pressuring him to take action."
"Oui, doctor just renewed de bandage? only need to get dressed and?"
"Woa, wait, Cajun," Warren says in an oddly fond tone. "Changed your bandages? You're still confined to bed then?"
"Oui, but don' worry. I can take care of myself just fine."
"I don't doubt that," Warren says softly. "But I want to make sure we take your meds, bandages and other stuff you might need with us. I will ask your dad to?"
"Ange?" Remy brings their joined hands to his lips and kisses the back of Warren's hand. "Please, just sit wid me for a while until I can believe you're real?"
The touch of those luscious lips burns his skin. It's such a simple gesture, yet filled with passionate affection. "Sure," he whispers in a hoarse tone. "I'll sit with you."
Remy closes his eyes, placing their hands over his heart. "Can' believe dis."
"You better do!" Warren whispers in an oddly emotional tone. "I am here and not going to leave. Why don't you get some rest? You look like you didn't sleep that great lately," he suggests and tucks his love in.
//My love,// he thinks pleased. It was Bobby who first referred to Remy as his love and now? It seems so improper to call Remy that, the Cajun being a man, but? maybe one day he will be able to take that step. "Sleep, crazy Cajun."
Remy catches the affectionate tone and smiles. "Not plannin' on sleepin', ange. Not as long as you are here? want to listen to you breathin', feel your pulse underneat' my fingertips." But against his will his body relaxes and he starts to doze off, never completely falling asleep, but resting nonetheless.

"Ya knew he would be back!" Logan realizes suddenly as they walk into Jean-Luc's private rooms. "Ya bastard ya! Ya counted on him comin' back to New Orleans!"
"Oui." Jean-Luc grins. "He needed time to accept dis." His tone grows serious again. "You should have seen de way Warren acted when Remy took dat dagger for him. He refused to let me hold my son, raving dat Remy couldn't die, dat he wouldn't allow it. Was pretty clear to me what was going on. Mais I hoped dat Warren wouldn't run and accept it instead." Tired, he massages his brow. It's been a long day.
"Yer confident they will work out?" Logan asks questioningly. They passed Remy's room as they made their way here and only soft noises emerged from the room, which reassured them everything was fine.
"Oui, I am sure. It will take dem a while to figure out deir new relationship, mais? when Remy loves, he loves unconditionally. Dey will also have to deal with de physical aspect. Right now, every boundary Remy ever set, all his defense mechanisms are down. I will talk to Warren before dey leave. Maybe I can offer him some advice."
Jean-Luc releases a deep sigh. "I'm tired," he admits. "Mais all dere's left to do is to get dem to de airport in one piece. Assassins are hard to control and will try to kill dem no matter what dey promise."
"Why don't ya get some sleep?" Logan suggests and wraps an arm around the Cajun's waist, understanding his fears. He worries about Remy as well. There is only one difference. "Kid's strong 'nough to find a way to deal with this shit. He's a survivor." Suddenly, dominating his new lover ain't that important any more. Offering comfort is. "We can play later."
"Play?" Jean-Luc chuckles, relieved that Logan understands his needs.. "Mais you're right. I could do with a nap."
Logan grins. "And maybe a massage will ease that tension in yer shoulders?" He would love to work on that tense body, work on tight knots and strained muscles. "Just wanna make ya feel good, Cajun."
"You're offering?" Jean-Luc asks relieved. Oui, he does need some rest. The prospect of Logan giving him a thorough massage makes his shoulders slump forward. He's too tired to keep up the pretence.
Taken aback by the sudden fatigue in Jean-Luc's eyes he brushes the Cajun's lips. "Yeah, I'm offerin'." Logan nods his head as he leads his new lover to his bed. "Don't worry 'bout the kids. If someone goes wrong, I will tell ya." His hearing is finely tuned. Right now, they aren't speaking and their heartbeats have settled down. "They're okay," he reassures Jean-Luc. "Give them some space, Cajun."
Jean-Luc nods his head and drops face forward on his bed. Sometimes, he feels so damn out of control!
"Lemme take care of ya, Cajun. I know yer used to callin' the shots, but ya can't be on top of the game all the time," Logan mumbles. Yeah, he understands Jean-Luc, understands his ingrained instincts not to let go. "Just this once, Cajun, lemme be here for ya."
"Sounds tempting," Jean-Luc admits. He doesn't react when one claw slips underneath his shirt, cutting it in two.
Logan strips off the shirt. He plans on taking his time with Jean-Luc. "Ya need a break from life, darlin'."
Strong hands rub soothingly over his back and Jean-Luc rests his head on his hands as Logan straddles his lower back. "Dere's some massage oil in de drawer," he informs his lover. "Sometimes my bones remember how old dey are? My knee has got the habit of?"
"Shst, just relax, Cajun," Logan whispers, finding the small bottle. He pours a small amount into his hands, warming the liquid before allowing it to come into contact with Jean-Luc's skin. "Gonna take care of ya," he promises again. "Ya can trust me, Cajun."
"I know I can? otherwise you wouldn't even be here," Jean-Luc whispers blissfully as Logan's hands knead a tight knot of muscles beneath his shoulder blade. Logan reacting to his needs like this is a surprise and suddenly he wonders if this could be more than just sexual attraction. //Mon Dieu, I am too old to get seriously involved.//
"I said, relax!" Logan whispers into Jean-Luc's ear as he leans in closer. "Yer even worse than me!"
"Assassins can be planning an attack right now," Jean-Luc points out to him. "What am I doing here? I should be?"
"Cut it out, Cajun!" Logan grabs Jean-Luc's wrists as the Cajun tries to get to his feet. "Ya need some down time, darlin'."
"Logan, you don't understand!" Jean-Luc curses, realizing Logan is too heavy for him to throw off.
"I understand that we're safe in yer house?"
"Oui, mais..."
"Stop it." Logan bends forward and roughly kisses the back of Jean-Luc's neck. "I won't let ya go."
"Why?" He stops resisting, knowing it's futile.
"Because ya need? this," and he softly bites the Cajun's neck. "Ya need to relax."
"Mon Dieu," he pants, suddenly realizing that he's lying on his stomach, Logan on top of him. How did he ever get into this position? //De massage?//
"It's okay, Cajun. Ya can let go now. I'll prove it to ya, want me to?" Jean-Luc's body twitches beneath his. "Tell me to back off and I will." But his heart hopes Jean-Luc can let go for just a moment. "Responsibilities are killin' ya, Cajun."
It's true. Jean-Luc can finally admit that 80 years of trying to keep the Guild together have taken their toll on him. Maybe he really wants to let go. "What do you want to do?"
"First, make sure this is no misunderstandin'," he says, releasing the Cajun's wrists and returning to the massage. "You need a good fuck, darlin' and ya know it."
"Never let anyone do dat," Jean-Luc admits.
"Figures." Logan isn't surprised at all. "Ya've got to trust me, Cajun. Trust me to look after ya. I will call the shots, with yer best interest in mind, but ya'll have to let go. Ya won't be able to control this."
It's a frightening concept and that's why he needs to do it. He always taught Remy to face his fears and this time it's his turn. "Condom and lube," he decides, setting his boundaries.
"Yer readin' my mind," Logan says softly, finally kneading some tension out of the Cajun's back. "Ya got condoms?"
"Not sure," Jean-Luc raises his head and looks at his lover. "Mebbe."
"When was the last time ya? Damn ya, Cajun!" Logan chokes up, reading the truth in his eyes. "That long?"
"Fifteen years? since I had a lover?" Jean-Luc admits. "De Guild?"
"Ya need to get a life." Logan gets to his feet and looks about.
"De bathroom? medicine cabinet," Jean-Luc says and sits upright.
Logan disappears into the bathroom, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Somehow, it hurts, knowing that this gorgeous man destroyed his personal life because of the Guild. He picks up towels and the condoms, which come with lube.
"Ya found them in Remy's room huh?" he realizes, knowing with certainty that Jean-Luc would never buy them for personal use. "Fifteen years?" he whispers. "Shit."
"You're right," Jean-Luc admits softly.
Logan takes in the thief, now naked. Clothes are neatly draped over the chair. He wonders about the change in attitude. Only yesterday Jean-Luc was all over him, fucking him mindless. Now, the Cajun seems shy. He throws the package on the bed.
Jean-Luc feels oddly nervous now that he's agreed to Logan taking the lead. But somehow it thrills him, knowing that for once he can be weak.
"Sit down on the bed, Cajun," Logan says and watches him move. "Ya got a great piece of ass."
Strangely enough the compliment pleases him. Jean-Luc sits cross-legged and watches the Canadian. It feels odd to sit here naked, while Logan is still fully clothed. "Are you going to take off dose clothes?"
"In a moment, Cajun. No need to hurry. Cloth on skin has a certain feel too." Logan kneels on the bed, taking in the gorgeous man in front of him. "Ya want to go all the way?"
Jean-Luc nods his head. "Don't know why, mais I trust you." But it still scares him, surrendering like this. "What do you have in mind, Logan?"
"First off, stop talkin'. Ya can't control me that way. Just accept what I am offerin'." Slowly, he moves closer to the thief. He cocks his head to study the dilated pupils. "I want ya to go insane with pleasure," he whispers and kisses Jean-Luc's lips.
Jean-Luc quavers as the fabric of Logan's shirt rubs against his naked skin. His nipples are immediately erect and a slow pounding starts in his groin.
Logan wraps one arm around his lover, laying him down on his back. He straddles Jean-Luc's hips. Lips and tongue trail down to his lover's collarbone. "That's it. Just relax, Cajun."
Jean-Luc's hands turn into fists, otherwise he would try to throw Logan off. But he consented to Logan being the dominant one and he can't change the rules of the game now. Denim moves between his legs, parting them and he hisses.
"Don't," Logan admonishes him. "Lemme take care of yer needs. I know how hard this on ya," he reassures the trembling thief. First, he planned on taking him hard and deep, but now? things are changing. //This is no longer 'bout fuckin',// he realizes in understanding. //It's more.//
Quickly, he strips off his shirt, but slaps Jean-Luc's hand away as the Cajun tries to unzip his trousers. "Don't make me tie you up. Would be a little too much for yer first time," he whispers teasingly.
"Mon Dieu," he pants, as Logan twists his nipples between his fingers. Involuntarily, he arches his back in invitation.
"Easy, Cajun," Logan says reassuringly. "I know what ya want? Lemme set the pace." His hands roam the Cajun's agile body, rolling an erect nipple between his fingertips. Finally, he gives in and trails down into the dark pubic hair. "Yer big," he whispers approvingly.
"Please?" Jean-Luc whispers. There's too much heat in his body and Logan is hardly touching him!
"So soon?" Logan teases and allows his fingers to curl around his lover's erect shaft, which is heavily dripping with precum. "We might not need that lube after all!"
"Lube? and condom?" Jean-Luc repeats deliriously.
"I know, darlin'. I'm just teasin' ya!" Slowly, he strokes his lover's cock, massaging the heavy sac and inhaling his scent. Then he remembers something from their first time together. Jean-Luc loved to talk dirty, so maybe?"Ya like this?"
"Oui," he whispers abandoned. It's hard to believe he's letting Logan do this. The slow strokes are driving him mad. He wants more, faster, harder but then? a finger teases against his cleft, touching his most private parts and yet he can't help but open his legs his legs further in invitation.
Logan grins and covers his fingers in his lover's precum. Slowly, he fists Jean-Luc's cock, denying him what the Cajun wants most, release. Leaning in closer, he claims his lover's lips, bruising them, forcing him to part his teeth and plundering the inside of that delicious mouth.
Jean-Luc's body freezes as one finger slips inside, slithery and determined, searching for his prostrate. Logan's full weight presses him down and he moans into his lover's mouth.
"Ya like that?" Logan releases bruised lips, trying to arouse his lover even more. "Ya also like talkin' dirty, don't ya?" Pulling back, a second finger joins the first. "Gonna take my time fuckin' ya, Cajun. Yer still a virgin, remember?" Jean-Luc prepped him as well for his first time. Last thing he wants is to hurt his lover.
Jean-Luc opens his eyes and locks with Logan's. Giving up this much control scares him. He can only trust that Logan knows when to stop.
"It's okay, Cajun," Logan says soothingly, this time nibbling on his lover's ear. "One more and then we get busy?" Unnoticed, he unzips his jeans and steps out them. His cock bobs free, fully erect and throbbing.
Jean-Luc howls as a third finger pushes inside, opening him up. "Make me cum?"
"Not yet?" Logan grins wickedly and crawls down the Cajun's body and then closes his lips around his lover's throbbing cock.
Jean-Luc bucks at the sensation, clawing his fingers into the sheet. Merde, this man is driving him insane! Him, the patriarch of the Guild! But right now he doesn't care. All he cares about is finding release.
His lips massage his lover's cock and he even scrapes his teeth along the slippery shaft. One hand moves to keep Jean-Luc from thrusting too deeply into his mouth. Judging from his lover's breathing, he's close to release. His fingers still thrust in and out of the hot trembling body and he sucks in the same rhythm.
Suddenly, his world explodes. Jean-Luc releases a strangled yelp and shoots his cum into Logan's hot mouth. But the fingers are still inside him, stroking his prostrate and that stimulation is too much.
Logan swallows some of his lover's cum, curious to taste it, but then lets go. Looking at Jean-Luc's face he sees the frenzy. Crooking one finger, he increases the pressure on his lover's prostrate. Jean-Luc's face contorts and Logan knows it's time for the next step. "Gonna fuck ya, babe," he whispers and considers their position for a moment. He hates having sex in bed. His eyes come to rest on the desk in the corner of the room.
Jean-Luc never notices Logan slip a condom out of the package. All he knows is that finger stroking his prostrate and he feels like losing it completely. "Fuck me den? just end dis!" he pleads out of his mind.
Logan growls possessively. "Damn yer condoms," he whispers, but slips it over his aching cock. This way, there's less danger of him hurting his partner. It is safer this way, as the lube will ease his way in.
Jean-Luc grabs onto Logan's arms as his lover suddenly lifts him from the bed. Quickly, he wraps his legs around Logan's waist, relieved that the pressure on his prostrate is gone.
After carrying his lover over to the desk, Logan quickly clears it from all objects.
In his groggy state of mind, Jean-Luc registers that reports are flying all over the place. "You're making a mess!"
Logan doesn't reply, just lays his lover down on the desk. Jean-Luc legs are still wrapped around his waist and Logan takes a moment to savor the sight. Damp hair is plastered all over Jean-Luc's face and his hands found a hold at the edge of the desk. "Yer beautiful," he whispers honestly and kisses his lover, while one hand trails down the Cajun's flat abdomen. "I hope yer ready."
"Ready for? " Jean-Luc forgets to breathe when Logan pushes inside, opening him up, pushing even deeper. He throws his head back and rests it on the desk. One of Logan's hands supports his ass, lifting him a little to change the angle of penetration. "Mon Dieu, you bastard? what are you doing?"
"Fuckin' Jean-Luc LeBeau," Logan replies affectionately, thrusting deeply.
"And not? de patriarch?" Jean-Luc whispers in sudden understanding, finally seeing this gift for what it is. Maybe, he can let go. "Want it hard," he whispers.
"I know that," Logan builds a rhythm, looking down and growls deeply as his cock disappears into his lover's body time and time again. "Yer a good fuck. The best I ever had. Ya got such a tight ass?" he whispers, knowing how much Jean-Luc loves to hear this. "But yer too good. Gonna cum inside ya every moment now. How does that feel? Knowin' I'm gonna pump you full with cum?" One of his claws unsheathes, caressing Jean-Luc's nipples.
He shivers, feeling that deadly claw hover over his nipples. Logan's balls slap against his ass, over and over again. He refuses to close his eyes and seeks out Logan's instead. The feral expression in them makes him breathless. Logan's thrusts move him over the table, rubbing his back and buttocks against the wood of the desk. Merde, this feels so good!
"Here I cum!" Logan exclaims and leans in closer to bury his teeth in Jean-Luc's neck, drawing blood. With one more firm thrust he's there, releasing his cum into the Cajun's shaking body.
Jean-Luc finally loses it after all, screaming and scratching the desk with his fingernails. Logan's so deep inside him, he's so full that he can hardly breathe!
Logan slumps forward on the Cajun's body, licking the blood he drew. One claw rests on his lover's stomach, caressing the skin there. Damn, he didn't know how much Jean-Luc turned him on!
"Get off," Jean-Luc whispers, as Logan presses him down. "Can't breathe."
Logan reacts at once, alarmed by the tone in his lover's voice. As he looks at Jean-Luc he freezes. Droplets of blood drip down his neck. "Gonna pull back."
Quickly, he withdraws from his lover's body and throws the condom to the side. "Yer okay? Didn't want to hurt ya, darlin'." A fast inspection shows that the Cajun's legs cramped up. He slips his arms underneath the shaking body and carries him to the bed. In silence, he lays his lover down and then joins him, pulling the comforter over their bodies. "Talk to me, Cajun." Jean-Luc is starting to worry him. "Ya still there?"
"Oui," escapes his lips. Suddenly, nimble fingers are massaging his legs, releasing the tension. "Merci," he whispers.
In silence, he works on the legs, until the tension's gone. "Sorry 'bout that, but I love doin' it on a desk."
"Logan?" Jean-Luc summons his strength and pulls the Canadian close to his chest.
A little confused, Logan meets his lover's eyes. "Shit, I lost control? did I hurt ya?"
"I will be sore for a few days," Jean-Luc realizes, "And Remy might give me funny looks because of the way I walk, mais it was worth it." It still baffles him that he reacted like that, giving himself so completely to Logan. "It felt good, letting go?"
"Shit, I was really worried I hurt ya." Logan isn't satisfied yet and briefly pulls back the covers.
"What are you doing, cher? I'm getting cold," Jean-Luc protests softly.
"Just a sec," Logan says worried and cleans up his lover, looking for blood, but all he encounters is semen. Finally reassured, he slips back underneath the comforter. As he looks at his lover, he grins. "Ya look like yer on drugs!"
Jean-Luc returns the grin. "I could get addicted to dis drug." Then, in a quieter tone he adds, "Merci for showing me."
"What?" Logan tucks his lover's head underneath his chin and strokes Jean-Luc's back with long strokes.
"Dat I can let go? dat I can trust you. I know dis isn't part of de deal, mais could you stay a little longer?" Only too soon the real world will come crushing in on him.
"Sure, darlin'."
"And don't call me darling!!" Jean-Luc whispers tired, listening to Logan's heartbeat. "What 'bout Remy and Warren? Can you hear dem?"
"Heartbeats are regular? no talking. I guess they're just enjoying the company? like I am."
"Mebbe I will take dat nap now," Jean-Luc whispers sleepily. "Wake me in 30 minutes? So much to do? book a flight? talk to Warren?"
"Go to sleep, Jean-Luc," Logan says affectionately, kissing his eyes close. "Go to sleep."

 

Chapter Nineteen

A soft knock on the door makes Warren aware of the complete silence in the room. The only thing audible is their slow breathing. His first glance is for Remy, whose red on black eyes twinkle at him. "You okay?"
"More dan 'kay," Remy whispers, still in disbelief. "Expected you to be gone when I opened my eyes."
That sad admission cuts through his heart. "I'm not going to run out on you again. Remy," Warren promises passionately. "I won't make the same mistake twice."
Another persistent knock on the door disturbs their comfortable silence.
"Oui?" Remy says eventually, realizing that Warren isn't reacting.
"Need to talk to ya, kid," Logan announces and strolls inside, hiding every trace of his passionate lovemaking just an hour ago. Jean-Luc is still asleep in his bed and Logan is resolved to help out. Casting a glance at Warren, he grins. //They're holdin' hands!//
"Want do you want?" Warren says defensively.
"Yer takin' the kid to Ireland?" Logan asks to be sure, doubting that Jean-Luc has to book a flight. "Takin' yer own plane?"
"Yes," Warren decides to back off, remembering Logan's lack of hostility earlier. "I already called the pilot. We can leave after dark."
"I suggest ya move just before sunset. Assassins will be less alert then. Will take ya to the airport myself." Logan smiles at Remy, pleased with the changed expression in the Cajun's eyes. //If Remy is just as passionate as his old man, Warren might realize too late he's in for a wild ride. But Jean-Luc is right. Will take the kid a long time to get over the Antiquary? but he did it 'fore. He can do it 'gain.//
Unexpectedly, Remy clears his throat to voice a request. He knows he has to leave because of the Assassins. //Don' want to get poppa into trouble!//
"What is it?" Warren asks, as Remy's fingers tighten around his.
"Want to go to St. Louis Cat'edral first? say adieu to père Etienne."
It takes Warren a moment to realize whom Remy is talking about. "The priest who helped you? You sure you want to do that? I mean, I understand you want to say thanks and stuff, but?" Warren looks to Logan for help. "We should leave the city ASAP. The assassins will make their move soon."
"Please?" Remy says in a soft tone. "Is important to me." Maybe it's a subconscious way of testing his new love. "He saved my life."
Slowly, it dawns on Warren that he's no longer capable of denying Remy a bloody thing! "Can it be done?" he asks Logan.
"Ya sure? It's risky. They might suspect ya wanna go back."
"I'm sure," Warren replies before Remy gets a chance to plead again.
"Can't make any promises, kid," Logan growls grumpily. He still has some time left to prepare. "So, what's the deal with the two of ya?" He feels rather confident that they worked things out. Although he doesn't really like Warren, he wants Remy to be happy.
"He loves me," Remy quips barely audible. "Can you believe dat?" A radiant smile surfaces on his face.
Logan fights his grin, but loses the struggle. A dirty, fat grin crawls over his face.
Warren's skin turns to goose flesh seeing that grin. //Please, don't embarrass me here! It's hard enough to declare your love to someone you deserted days ago!//
"Yer goin' to Ireland together then?" Logan loves seeing Warren squirm.
"Oui," Remy replies, but then suddenly his gaze darkens. "Or did you change your mind?" he asks Warren in a tiny tone.
The sudden doubt and fear in Remy's tone worries him. "You're coming with me, crazy Cajun!" he declares passionately.
Relieved, Remy sighs. "Still can' believe dis," he explains awkwardly.
Logan figures this little misunderstanding is his cue. "Wings, Jean-Luc wants to talk to ya 'fore ya leave." He smiles, seeing Remy's disappointed expression. "I'll help ya pack, kid. If ya really want to make a stop at St. Louis cathedral we got to leave earlier."
"Help me pack?" Remy mumbles stunned. He arrived here with nothing but the clothes on his back!
"Jean-Luc wants ya to take some things with ya, kid. Like?" His eyes search the room and he nods his head, picking up a photograph of Jean-Luc hugging his son. It's the only pic in the room. "Like this one." Personal things will help Remy get over the fact that he had to leave New Orleans.
Understanding his intentions Remy gives in. "Dere are some t'ings I would like to take wid me," he admits. Like the notebook he has been writing in.
"Get yer ass into Jean-Luc's study," Logan chides Warren. "The man is waitin' for ya!" He notices the obvious reluctance with which Warren lets go of Remy's hand. //Damn, Cajun is right. They might work out!// he realizes pleased. But he also knows that Warren will have a tough time learning how to deal with Remy's fears. No matter how tough the kid acts, the hurt the Antiquary inflicted is still tearing Remy apart.
"Will be back in a sec," Warren promises and squeezes Remy's hand one last time before letting go. "We got all the time we need once we're in Ireland."
"Lookin' forward to dat," Remy admits softly, wondering if they will survive the first days. He will probably drive Warren mad and he isn't sure their fragile relationship can take such strain. Hell, he isn't sure about anything anymore!
Warren gives him an odd look, almost guessing his love's thoughts. He knows this will be hard on both of them. There are some issues he has to work on himself!

"Sit down," Jean-Luc commands thoughtfully. He wants a moment in private before hell breaks loose when they will try to smuggle Warren and Remy out of the house. Luckily, he can entrust their safety to his lover. //Assassins will try to kill dem! Merde! Remy is so young,// he muses saddened, wondering how old Warren is. //Even dis one is only a child.//
"Remy still wants me," Warren says to break the silence. "I apologized, told him why I came back and he agreed to go to Ireland with me. Or are you going to break your word and stop us?" He can't wait to leave New Orleans so Remy will be his exclusively. Yes, it's selfish, but he wants to leave this shit behind and finally focus on healing Remy's emotional scars.
"I won't stop you," Jean-Luc says pleased. "Mais if you hurt him..." The threat hangs unfinished in the room.
"I won't." Warren repeats his promise. "But? I'm nervous? scared?" he admits confused. "I don't know how to? you know? touch him? It's the first time I'm in love with a man and I'm still trying to get used to that idea. I'm not comfortable with touching him yet and then there are the things you told me about the way he was abused?"
"Actually, I want to talk to you about dat," Jean-Luc feels comfortably relaxed thanks to Logan's 'care'. //Merde, he really knew what I needed! Feel like I'm 20 again, not an old man!//
"What do you mean?" Confused, Warren locks eyes with him. "You already told me?"
Jean-Luc cuts him short, knowing their time is limited and he wants to spend those last precious minutes with his son. "You need to know dis," he says in a heavy tone, not looking forward to sharing this, but now that they have taken the next step, Warren needs to be aware of Remy's often unusual behavior.
"Of what?" Warren says questioningly, suddenly seeing the unease in Jean-Luc's eyes. It's the first time that the patriarch seems nervous. "Is it about Remy?"
"Oui," Jean-Luc leans forward, trying to catch Warren's eyes. "You need to be careful when? setting dat first step of becoming intimate."
Warren flushes. //No way! He can't possibly want to discuss this!// After taking a deep breath, he asks, "What are you trying to say?"
"It took Remy years to understand de difference between love and sex." Jean-Luc hopes the young man will understand. This is so important! "You must understand." He gets to his feet and walks over to the window, fondly looking at the craters in the garden.
Puzzled, Warren waits. //Oh shit! This probably has to do with the abuse Remy suffered as a kid!//
"I told you how Remy behaved when he first came to dis household." Jean-Luc clasps his hands behind his back and turns to face Warren.
"Yes, you told me." Warren can't help it. Shivers run down his spine.
"I also told you dat he asked me why I didn't order him to pleasure me," Jean-Luc continues in a steady tone.
//Damn, hate to discuss this behind Remy's back!// Warren clears his throat. "Yes, you did."
Jean-Luc walks over to him and looks into Warren's eyes. "You should know dat he came to my room dat night, completely naked and offered himself to me." Rage builds in Jean-Luc's voice. "He was 12," he says in obvious sadness.
"What?" Warren jumps up from his chair, but Jean-Luc's hands keep him down. "He did what?" He can't understand why a kid would do such a thing.
And Jean-Luc sees that confusion. "Listen, dis is important for both of you." He pushes Warren back onto the chair and sits on his heels. "Remy thought dat I wanted his body in return for food and shelter. He was so scared dat I would throw him back onto de streets dat he reacted de only way he knew, by trying to appease me. De Antiquary?" His voice trails off. He doesn't want to go through this again.
"Are you telling me that he might try to pull off the same thing with me once things get rough?" Warren isn't sure what to make of this admission, but he's still trembling with anger, much like Jean-Luc is.
"Don't rush dis. Take your time to work on de relationship," Jean-Luc advises. "De things, which de Antiquary did to him are still very close and very real to Remy. He dealt with it once, oui, but dis time you will have to be dere for him, be his support."
"How? How do I do that?" Resolved, Warren looks to Jean-Luc for guidance. "I refuse to fuck this up."
"Make sure your touch is gentle," Jean-Luc starts softly and takes a deep breath. "If you're angry with him, don't shut him out or give him de silent treatment. Make sure he knows you disapprove of his actions, but not of him as a person. If you're angry and feel de need to go for a walk take him with you. You don't have to talk, just don't give him de feeling that he can't reach you."
Warren nods his head. "My dad did that to me. Shut me out, didn't talk to me for days? I won't do that to Remy."
"Try to get him to remove de shackles. Remy's scared. Scared dat de charm will make you hurt him. You'll have to prove your love over and over again." Jean-Luc sees a sparkle of understanding. Maybe his son chose well after all. "One more thing?"
"Yes?" Warren shifts in the chair, still uncomfortable with the subject, but he realizes he needs all the help he can get in dealing with Remy's fears.
"Should you decide to make love?" Amused, Jean-Luc notices the blush on Warren's face "Be alert."
"Why?" Warren is slowly realizing how fucking hard this will be on them!
"The moment Remy reacts like he's not really dere, mentally absent during your love making, stop. It's one of his ways to distance himself, offering himself to you, but not needing de sexual act himself. Also, if you want to return your pleasure and he refuses, stop to think about what happened. It's an old shame, believing dat he doesn't deserve equal pleasure."
"What do I do when that happens?" He already knows it will. He's realistic enough to know that Remy's still battling his past and that there is no magical cure for childhood abuse. Strange, he never thought he would ever end up with a lover who suffered that much. Usually, he avoids even befriending these people!
"Hold him. Tell him dat his love and well being is more important to you dan having sex."
Warren's blush turns crimson red, hearing Jean-Luc phrase it like that. "I understand that now? that there are more important things in a relationship than sex." Somehow this feels like the father-son talk his own dad never delivered. "How do you know all this stuff?" he asks bewildered.
"Because I held Remy when he asked me why his lovers only wanted to have sex and den left. He never realized how much he feels and acts like a victim. He's an easy target."
Warren's mouth goes dry while listening to Jean-Luc. "Can I call you? should we run into such problems?"
"Oui, always and take dese with you." Jean-Luc collects a small bundle of books that sits on his desk. "Dese helped me gain insight into Remy's way of thinking. De books are about child abuse and ways of healing."
"Shit man," Warren mumbles, accepting the books. "You're dead serious about this!"
"I am," Jean-Luc confirms. "I can only hope dat for Remy's sake you won't run away again. I doubt he can deal with you deserting him like dat again. Not after you came back? if it's any consolation," Jean-Luc pats Warren's shoulder, "Remy's given me more joy and love dan anyone else ever has. He will love you unconditionally."

"Yer packed?" Logan growls and puts the two bags near the door. "Hey, don't ya dare and?" In a heartbeat he's at Remy's side, steadying the Cajun, who managed to dress himself. "I'll get ya a coat. Now sit down."
Remy grins as Logan hovers protectively over him. "You're 'most as bad as poppa! I ain' a child!"
"Compared to me ya are!" Logan counters and drapes a coat over Remy's shoulders. He smells the slight fever on the young man. "Don't move 'bout too much!" he warns.
Remy is tempted to stick out his tongue to taunt Logan, but reconsiders. "Can I talk to poppa before we have to leave?"
"Mais oui, petite." Jean-Luc walks into the room, Warren only a few steps behind. //I scared de kid,// he realizes, taking in Warren's hooded expression. //Bien, now dat he knows de signs he will be alert!//
Remy's eyes sparkle at the sight of his poppa and love. He missed them both.
Logan raises an eyebrow, noticing the serious look on Warren's face. He has to admit that Wings changed a lot during these last few days.
"Can I have a moment with my son?" Jean-Luc demands, his eyes shoeing them from the room.
Warren is reluctant to leave, but wants Jean-Luc and Remy to have this moment together. It will be hard on Remy to leave his father.
"C'mon, kiddo." Logan pulls Warren along, still wondering why Warren's heartbeat is that fast. Something definitely upset Wings. "What's going on?" he asks the moment he closes the door behind him.
Warren points to a small pile of books on the floor. "He gave me these, along with instructions on how to? " he pauses to find the right words, "how to see through Remy's fears and pretence. I never realized it was this bad." Suddenly, he doesn't care that Wolverine doesn't like him. He just needs someone who will listen to him. Jean-Luc did freak him out.
"Just listen to the titles," Warren picks up the books and opens them. Angry red marks indicate sections Jean-Luc found of particular interest. "Be aware of danger," he reads and goes on to the next title, "The battered child. A home in the streets, street children? or this one? Ghosts in the bedroom! Fuck!" he hisses upset.
Logan swallows hard. "Can understand this freaks ya out, but ya better be prepared. Ya should know what this did to Remy."
"I know that," Warren sighs, suddenly feeling terribly calm. "But I'm so mad at the old bastard who did this to him!"
"Want me to track him down for ya?" Logan offers. "Wanna word with that monster myself."
Warren is indecisive. "I just want this to stop messing with Remy's head."
"I will take care of it," Logan promises. He also has some personal questions, which he wants to ask Jean-Luc about this Antiquary character! "Just hang in there, Wings."
"I will," Warren states resolved. "One way or the other, I? no, Remy and I are going to deal with this!"

Jean-Luc sits down next to Remy and studies his son's body language. Remy seems to be comfortable, but also impatient. "I'm so sorry," he offers, hating the fact that the Guild is once more pushing his buttons. //Mais not much longer!// Once Remy's in safety, he is going to make some decisions concerning his life and the Guild!
"I understand, poppa." Remy smiles saddened. "Guild always comes first."
"NON!" Jean-Luc whispers in dread. "It shouldn't be like dat, son."
"I really understand," Remy offers again. "And Warren needs someone to look after him?" he hints mischievously. "I will be fine, poppa?"
"Don't try and act brave with me, Remy," Jean-Luc chides him, seeing the sadness behind the mask. "I know you too well!"
"I will miss you," Remy admits in a tired tone. "Felt so good to have you close."
"I will call, visit you in Ireland?"
"Poppa," Remy shakes his head and smiles weakly. "We bod know you can' keep dose promises."
"I will find a way!" Jean-Luc insists. "Logan will take you to de airport. You sure you want to go with Warren?"
"Oui," Remy whispers, squeezing his father's hand tightly. "Feel like I have been given a second chance?"
"Don't shut him out when de pain starts," Jean-Luc warns him.
Remy lowers his eyes. "Will try, mais I still feel 'shamed for?"
"You didn't do anything wrong," Jean-Luc reminds him. "De Antiquary did." He had so hoped this was behind Remy and now?! "I love you, Remy," he whispers, knowing how much Remy needs to hear it, over and over again.
"Je t'aime," Remy replies, as if in prayer. "Always will, poppa."
"Let me walk you to de car." Jean-Luc forces back his tears, hoping Warren packed the books into one of their bags. Remy doesn't need to see them yet. "Send me a post card? Call me? Write me?"
Remy nods his head. "Will have a lot to write 'bout," he hints, as the door opens and Warren comes into view. "Got your blessin' on dis?" he asks softly.
"Oui, petite." Jean-Luc kisses his son's brow. "You've got to get moving?"
"Don' want to leave," Remy whispers softly.
Jean-Luc catches Warren's eyes, telling him to take over. Once Warren has a tight hold on his son, he steps back. A last smile and Remy's heading towards the car. Merde, this hurts!
"Assassins won't hurt them," Logan promises, seeing Jean-Luc's worried eyes.
"I trust you," Jean-Luc replies, losing the fight to choke back his tears.
Remy holds onto Warren, feeling poppa's eyes in his back and he turns around. Jean-Luc's eyes are watered and he waves good-bye.
"Remy? Are you??" Warren pulls him close as the Cajun almost trips over his own feet. He doesn't want to break the magic between Jean-Luc and Remy but? "We need to leave."
Remy slips into the car after looking at Jean-Luc one last time. It will take him a long time to forget the unshed tears in his poppa's eyes. "Ange?"
Warren quickly slides into place next to him, steadying his lover with one arm. Although Remy's physical closeness unnerves him a little, he can deal with it. There's nothing sexual in helping his love sit upright because he's wounded. If Remy were kissing him? that would be a reason to panic!
"Everything will be all right. I promise." The words slip from his lips, before he realizes it. Warren peeks at Remy's eyes. The obvious hurt in them also tears at his own soul. Maybe a distraction will help, make it easier on Remy. "You still want to go to St. Louis' first?"
"Oui," Remy says determined. "Want to say good-bye to père Etienne!"

St. Louis Cathedral
"Make it short," Logan instructs as he shoes Remy and Warren into the cathedral. His instincts tell him that the assassins know that they're on the move, but he hopes holy ground doesn't classify as battleground.
Remy nods his head and pushes his hand onto the wound. It's pounding, the intensity of the ache growing. He's overdoing it, but he has to talk to père Etienne one last time.
Warren bites his lower lip, watching Remy closely. The young Cajun stumbles over his feet and instinctively, he reaches out to steady him. Remy's sluggish reaction worries him. "Are you okay? You should be resting, not running around like this." But yes, he knows how important this is to Remy.
Remy doesn't hesitate and holds onto Warren, curling an arm around his love's waist. Defensively, he wants to tell both men that he has to do this, but just in time he reads understanding in their eyes. Warren trembles nervously. Warren's uneasy, being this close to him. Why?
He can figure that one later, now he needs to find père Etienne. One of the younger priests approaches, smiling friendly. It strikes him that the priest's expression is warm, then he remembers that he's wearing sunglasses and that the other man can't see his eyes. A melancholy smile floats over his face.
"Can I help you?" the young priest inquires politely.
Quickly, Remy glances at Logan, who's guarding his back. Then he focuses on the priest again. "Can I talk to père Etienne?" He hopes nothing bad has happened to the old priest, remembering his savior's absence when he brought Warren here. //Don' punish him for helpin' me, mon Dieu,// he prays fervently.
Warren notices the shocked expression on the young priest's face. //Shit! Don't let him be dead!// He doesn't want Remy to hurt even more!
"Père Etienne? Did you really say père Etienne?" the young priest makes sure.
"Oui, de old man? who locks de doors at night," Remy explains, suddenly feeling weak in his knees. "He has some private rooms near de crypt?" His hold on Warren tightens. //Please, mon Dieu!// He can't possibly go on living knowing he caused the old man's death!
The young priest nervously beckons them to sit down on the benches. "Did you see him?"
Warren's growing suspicious. "Can we talk to him?" Damn, they don't have time for this!
"Did you?" the priest repeats.
"Oui," Remy stutters confused. "Helped me?"
"Mon Dieu," the priest whispers and crosses himself.
"What?" Remy whispers in dread. "What's wrong?"
Warren helps him sit down and remains at his side. Acting on impulse he rests a calming hand on Remy's shoulder.
"Is that your père Etienne?" the young priest asks and gestures at a painting near the doorway. There's a number of paintings, depicting the faithful men that served God, serving in this cathedral.
Hesitantly, Remy raises his eyes to study the paintings and sucks in his breath. In the center of the collection of paintings is père Etienne's face, immortal in paint. "Oui."
Warren's eyes follow Remy's and see a kind face with compassionate eyes.
"Monsieur," the priest starts. "Père Etienne died 100 years ago."
Warren senses Remy's shock and gently squeezes his love's shoulder. "Maybe it was a hallucination?" he suggests at a loss.
"NON! I saw him? talked to him!" Remy protests in bewilderment.
"He lived here, you are right about that," the young priest explains, "But in 1899 he died in his bed. One of the other priests found him, an unearthly smile on his face."
Remy trembles violently. "I ain' goin' mad!" he sobs upset. "He held me," he whispers and looks up into Warren's eyes. "Held me durin' de nightmares."
An older priest who has been listening closely joins them. "Are you talking about père Etienne, mon fils?"
"Oui," Remy sighs. "Tell me he's still 'live!" This must be a joke, a cruel joke and père Etienne will appear any moment now, chiding him for believing this crap!
The elderly priest gives him a compassionate look. "You're not the first to meet his ghost."
"Ghost?" Warren repeats in disbelief. During his time as an X-Man he encountered many inexplicable things, but this tops everything. "A ghost?"
"Oui," the elderly priest smiles warmly. "It is said that he only appears to those pure of heart who need guidance and help."
"Pure of heart?" Remy chokes out. //He helped me! Le diable blanc! I ain' pure of heart!// His mind is trying hard to deal with this unexpected explanation.
"You say he appears regularly?" Warren cuts in, worried about the tremors that rock Remy's body.
"Oui," the elderly man replies. "About a year ago he helped a small girl who was accidentally locked up inside the cathedral. She was only 4. When we found her, she told us that an angel had watched over her. When we asked her to describe this angel, she pointed at the painting."
Remy gets to his feet, trembling and shaking his head. //Mebbe I better go mad? dis is absurd? // The thought of a ghost helping him, shocks him. "You can' seriously believe dis!" he raves upset. "I want out of here!" he yelps, looking pleadingly at Warren.
"Don't be afraid," the elderly priest soothes him, "Angels are meant to help us and most of the time we just don't see them. But sometimes, they show themselves to us. You are truly blessed, mon fils!"
"Blessed!" Remy snarls, wondering why he is this upset. Roughly, he pulls Warren along.
"Hey, slow down, Rem!" Warren states and pulls him close. "As an X-Man you should know there are beings out there that defy logic. Why does this freak you out? Maybe you do have a very alert guardian angel!"
Staring into Warren's eyes, Remy shivers. "De Devil's boy doesn' get a guardian ange!"
"What about me then?" Warren smiles warmly, signaling Logan that they are leaving. "Or don't you want me as your guardian angel? What do I need to do to get that job?"
Suddenly, Remy laughs softly. "Can' deny you're an ange." Slowly, he starts to head for the doorway, looking at the grande angel statue near the altar. "What?" Blinking his eyes he forgets to breathe. "Warren, look!"
Alarmed, Warren turns around, ready to defend his love against a possible attacker. "What is it?"
"Next to the statue," Remy whispers respectfully, trying hard not to faint.
Warren glances at the angel statue and only now realizes an old man is standing next to it. It's the man from the painting. "Père Etienne?" he asks Remy shakily.
"Oui." The whisper flows through the cathedral. He raises his arm to wave at the old man. He really wants to run over to père Etienne, but something holds him back.
Père Etienne waves back and smiles warmly, truly pleased that Remy cared enough for him to return here. Maybe he should give this young man the only gift he has to offer.
"Warren?? I?" Shocked, Remy watches as père Etienne's form starts to change. "Can' believe?" His fingernails claw into Warren's arm.
Warren is holding his breath as well. The old priest's black clothes fade away and reveal a white/yellow robe made of precious fabric. Brown wings, sparkling with gold, spring from the figure's shoulders and suddenly the face transforms as well. A brown haired angel with dark eyes is smiling at them.
"Mon Dieu," Remy whispers, suddenly afraid the angel might think it sacrilegious. "Warren? Am I goin' mad?" he whispers dazed. The figure radiates so much light and warmth that he sways on his feet. Luckily, Warren has a tight hold on him.
"Then we're going mad together," Warren whispers and swallows hard. Damn, this is the real thing! He can feel it. This is no mutant. This is a real angel.
The angel smiles, extends his hand in greeting and a soft voice drifts into their minds while they're clinging to each other.
"You no longer need me, Remiel."
Remy whimpers as the form grows less in intensity, finally fading away. "Did I see dat? Did you hear dat?" Pleadingly, he looks at Warren. "Don' tell me I lost my mind!"
Still a little shaken himself, Warren manages a smile. "Geeze, Remy? looks like you do have your personal guardian angel." He really needs to think about this revelation. //Maybe God exists after all?//
Logan, unaware of what transpired, walks up to them. "Time to go, kids."
Remy's voice trembles. "Oui, just a moment, mon ami." Closing his eyes, he whispers a thank you to the heavens.

Note: You can find a picture of the angel I described at http://www.angelartbyeve.com/gallery2000.html Scroll down to number 94, named Raphael.

 

Chapter Twenty

"Yer gonna be 'kay." Logan's voice sounds soothing and certain. "Just take the time to heal, kid." He takes Remy's left hand and walks him to the plane. "Don't forget to call yer old man!"
Remy's quiet, still taken aback by his experience in the cathedral. As he looks at Warren, he sees similar astonishment in his blue eyes. For some reason, seeing this angel affected Warren too. "I will," he promises, knowing from personal experience that poppa won't have the time to answer his calls. //But it's de t'ought dat counts!//
"Take care, bub," Logan says roughly, feeling awkward. Eventually, he pulls Remy into a brief embrace, squeezes his still too frail frame and then releases him. "And Wings? ya better make sure the kid's takin' of himself!" Seeing Warren's eyes he feels reassured. Warren knows what he's getting himself into and is determined to go all the way.
"Merci, Logan," Remy whispers affectionately, squeezing back and then allows Warren to take his hand. Merde, he's wobbly on his feet! His side pounds and his fever is getting worse. He's been walking around too much and needs rest!
Warren leads him up the stairs and turns around one last time. Like Remy, he waves at Logan and then helps the Cajun settle down in one of the comfortable chairs. Yeah, there are definite advantages to having a complete plane to yourself!
Remy sighs now that he's finally off his feet. Looking through the window he watches quietly as Logan marches back to the limousine. He really doesn't want to leave New Orleans! //Mais I don' have a choice!//
Warren sits down next to him and fastens their seat belts. The plane is ready for take off and it will be a long flight to Ireland. Once they're airborne he is going to level the chair so it makes a comfortable bed. At least that way Remy can get some rest. The young Cajun looks awfully pale and sweat pours from his pores.
They brace themselves for take off and once they are in the air, Warren can't help voicing his concern. "You don't look that well, Remy." His new love has been incredibly quiet since they left the cathedral. "Let me," he says and adjusts the chair so Remy can lie down comfortably.
Surprised, Remy locks eyes with him. The concern that lies in those blue eyes surprises him. Oui, Warren came back for him, but? this is unexpected. Does Warren really care that much about him?
"You thinking about père Etienne? Your angel?" Warren pulls a blanket from underneath his chair, covering him with it. "You feel cold, Remy." Hesitantly, but urged on by concern, he places his right hand on Remy's brow. "You've got a fever, Rem." Now, where is that bag filled with medical supplies? Remy definitely needs some antibiotics.
Remy smiles warmly, treasuring his concern. "I'm bien," he whispers. "Just need some sleep." He cuddles up underneath the blanket, bathing in Warren's obvious worry.
"Here, you need to take this regularly according to your father." Warren hands him two pills and then fetches a glass of water. "It's going to be a long flight. You best sleep through it."
Remy briefly considers not taking the meds, but doesn't want Warren to get mad at him. So obediently, he swallows the antibiotics. Warren is obviously prepared to try and make this work, so he better try hard as well and not fuck up.
"You okay?" Warren takes the glass and puts it down. "Anything else you need, Remy?"
"Do you t'ink we really saw an ange?" Remy whispers, shifting a little to get more comfortable. "Do you?" His eyes are slowly dropping shut, but he refuses to give in yet. This is the first time they are alone, really alone since Warren came back.
"Yes, I think we did," Warren says resolved. "Do you also wonder why he allowed us to see him like that?" He leans back in his chair and studies Remy's pale face. Once they're in Ireland he's going to see to it that Remy gets enough rest.
"I don' know?" Remy admits shaken. "I'm still tryin' to figure out why he took care of me." Shivers run down his spine. "I never suspected?"
"When we were in the cathedral you said something?" Warren looks him in the eyes, sleepy eyes. "The devil's boy doesn't get a guardian angel?" He clearly notices Remy's violent flinch. "Is that how you see yourself? As some sort of demon?" He can hardly believe his own conclusion.
"Oui," Remy admits within a heartbeat, determined not to lie to Warren. Mon Dieu, he also wants this relationship to work! "De eyes?"
"Red on black?" Warren smiles saddened, suddenly realizing something about his love. "Who called you that? Devil's boy?"
Remy draws in a deep breath. He's tempted to use his fatigue as an excuse so he doesn't have to discuss this now, but? Poppa warned him not to shut Warren out when the pain started. "De oder boys and? he did."
"The Antiquary?" Warren's heart contracts violently. //The damn bastard!// He fights hard to control his rage, knowing seeing him enraged won't soothe Remy.
"Oui, made oder boys avoid me 'cause of my eyes." Remy finally gives in and closes his eyes. "Sorry, cher, mais I'm tired."
"Does your side hurt?" Warren inquires softly, pleased that Remy's sitting safely in the chair next to him. No assassins, no Antiquary will hurt him any longer. He will keep all the bad things away.
"A peau," Remy mumbles, already dozing off. "T'ink we'll ever see dat ange 'gain?"
"I don't know, Remy." Warren's extremely tempted to brush back some stray locks but still feels inhibited. He can't touch Remy in that way yet. His mind is still trying to deal with being attracted to a man! "But at least now you know that there's someone watching over you. And you certainly deserve a guardian angel." Leaning in closer, he feels helpless and can't stop himself from caressing Remy's face with his eyes. "And you're not a demon, Rem? you're not."
"Mer?ci," Remy mumbles, his mind already asleep.
Satisfied, Warren crosses his arms in front of his chest. Remy's not the only one wondering about this angel. But his reason to doubt that he really saw that angel is different.
After fighting so many mutants and beings whose existence defy logic, he gave up on believing in God. He shivers, remembering one of the worst enemies they ever fought and strangely enough that isn't Apocalypse, although the name still makes him tremble. It's the Beyonder. He knows Kurt also began to doubt his faith in God because of this being.
And now, an angel revealed itself to them, calling Remy Remiel. That's another thing that puzzles him. Remiel? why Remiel?
//Feel like a fraud, having these wings. I can never be the real thing. I'm just a man with wings.// As he looks at Remy, he remembers the faith in those red on black eyes. Remy always calls him ange.
//Jean-Luc is right. I don't deserve these wings,// he thinks saddened. He adjusts his own chair as well and lies down on his side so he can closely observe Remy's face. He desperately hopes that the nightmares will stay away this once.
After a while, he gets bored. He needs something to do, as his body is still full of energy. In the end, he picks up one of the books Jean-Luc advised him to read. "The battered child," he whispers strangled. Well, he better find out what to expect and how to react to it!

"Mister Worthington? We're about to touch down."
Reluctantly, Warren opens his eyes. "Thanks, Robert." The co-pilot returns to the cockpit and his eyes settle on Remy. His heart misses a beat. At one time during the flight he put away the book and fell asleep as well. //And now his head is on my shoulder and one of his hands in my lap!//
Embarrassed, he forces himself to clasp his fingers around Remy's and returns the hand to its rightful owner. He doesn't want to admit it, but he's rock hard and his erection is pressing against the confines of his jeans. //Damn! Can't believe I'm reacting like this!//
However, he can't pull away from Remy, knowing it will cause a rude awakening. So he allows Remy to continue to rest his head on his right shoulder. The Cajun is so close? and his body is reacting to that closeness. Whatever doubts he had about wanting Remy, he can dismiss them now. A melancholy smile passes over his face. "Good thing Bobby isn't here!" he groans, remembering Drake's smug smile only too well!
"Cher?" Remy slowly opens his eyes and tries to focus on him. "Side hurts."
"Thanks for telling me and not trying to hide it!" Warren says thankfully. "We're going to change the bandages once we're at the cottage, Remy."
"Where are we goin'?" Remy tries to remember if Warren told him. "Oui, Ireland, mais where?" The blanket slips onto his waist and he smiles brilliantly when Warren pulls it up to his shoulders again. Oui, the man does care!
"You have never been to Ireland?" Warren asks, remembering something that Remy told him when he apologized.
"Never?" Remy cocks his head, rests it against the headrest and simply watches his love's eyes, sighing in bliss to have the man this close.
"When I was very little, my mum was still alive," Warren starts softly. These are fond memories. "Every autumn she would drive my old man mad until he took us there. It's a small cottage in county Wicklow. Nothing major," he smiles. "A very simple cottage. Don't expect a castle or manor."
"Can' impress me wid your money," Remy says jokingly, but wonders about the sudden changed expression on Warren's face. "Cher?" The word rolls gently from his lips, like he called Warren cher for years. It feels right. It feels comfortable.
"No, I guess I can't!" Warren smiles in return. "At least I can be sure that you're not after my money!"
His reaction surprises Remy, but he decides not to address that matter. "You loved bein' dere?" he asks, returning to their original subject.
"We spent some great weeks there, Rem. Mum was so different from my father. We played on the beach, while dad studied the stock market."
"What happened?" Remy asks hesitantly. "She died?"
"Yes, when I was six. I never visited Ireland after she died. Dad didn't want to go back to Redcross during the autumn and after he died, I never had the courage to go up there on my own."
"And now you are takin' me dere?" Remy whispers honored. It feels like Warren is allowing him into his very private sanctuary.
"Yeah, I think the place is perfect for the two of us. You okay with this?"
Remy grins warmly. "Cher, we're 'bout to touch down and you ask now?" His grin transforms into a bright smile. "Mais oui. If you want me dere dat badly?"
"Let me help," Warren leans in closer to fasten their seatbelts again. His breathing hesitates when Remy's fingers suddenly brush his face. "Uhm, Rem?" It's a little unsettling, sensing those gentle fingertips trailing down his throat.
"You're uncomfortable wid me touchin' you," Remy states, feeling alarmingly uncertain. "Is it 'cause of what de Antiquary...?"
He quickly looks up, only focusing on Remy. "It's not you, Remy? It's about me? I never knew I liked guys and?"
Remy isn't sure he believes that explanation. Maybe Warren's just trying not to embarrass him because he does feel uncomfortable regarding his past.
"Don't," Warren whispers as the plane makes contact with Irish soil. "I want to touch you, but? I'm nervous. You've got to be patient with me, Remy."
"You sure?" Remy wonders aloud. It wouldn't be the first time that people shied back because of his past.
"I'm sure, crazy Cajun!" Warren chides him as the plane loses speed. "We need to drive up to the cottage. It's a one hour drive. Think you can make it? We'll have a look at your side the moment we get there."
"Don' worry 'bout me," Remy mumbles softly. "I can make it." Well, maybe Warren is telling the truth. It might be scary to suddenly realize that you're bi and not straight! "You'll have to do de drivin'," he says teasingly. Truthfully, his aching side is getting worse.
"C'mon, let's get going. We deserve some rest." Warren hauls him gently to his feet and freezes as Remy's body presses into his. The Cajun feels surprisingly good in his arms! Damn!
Remy gives him a little grin, hoping this relationship will work out. The next days will be a true test of commitment and love.

"It's a grande old house," Remy whispers, taking in the cottage. "Kinda secluded, non?"
"We liked that," Warren explains as he drives up to the house. "Mum wanted to get away from all daily shit. The woods stretch on and I haven't tried to climb those mountains since I was little! The nearest shop, village or pub is one mile away? For me, it's safe to walk around without image inducer. It's private property?"
Suddenly, and not sure why, Remy feels nervous. "It's personal?"
"I want you here with me," Warren repeats and parks the car. "We got lucky. It's not raining!" he says jokingly. "It can rain for weeks over here!"
Remy opens the car door and pushes himself to his feet. A chilly wind is blowing and the sky is grey. The mountains stand tall and impressing, presenting a natural barrier from the outside world.
"Why don't we get you to one of the bedrooms first?" Warren suggest as he walks up to the Cajun. "You look like hell, Remy!"
Remy chuckles softly, pressing a hand against his wound as his body shakes. "You ain' into compliments, cher?"
"Later," Warren returns the smile, wraps one arm around Remy's waist to steady him and fishes the key out of his pocket. "Better check on the heating first? Can get cold during these months."
Curiously, Remy takes in the living room. It's neatly furnished, nothing fancy. "Dat couch looks bien, cher? Put me down dere?" Looking at the stairs he wonders if he can make it upstairs without fainting. This trip is taking its toll on him.
"Okay," Warren gives in, alarmed by Remy's tired eyes. He walks him to the couch and helps him lie down. "I'll be back in a sec. I need to check on the room heater and then we'll have a look at your side." Quickly, he slips out of his coat and drapes it over Remy's form. "Just stay put, Remy!"
His eyes cling to Warren until his love leaves the room, then he searches his surroundings. Nothing fancy as Warren had said, but this will do perfectly! As he listens to the sounds Warren's making, he shivers underneath the coat. His side feels sticky and he hopes it's only sweat and not blood. Hopefully, the wound didn't re-open.
"It'll get warmer in a moment," Warren assures him and quickly kneels on the floor next to the couch. "Let's see? Do you want to take a shower before I change the bandages?" Remy's covered in sweat!
"You're comfortable wid helpin' me shower den, cher?" Remy asks, trying hard to sound mischievously, but in reality he feels damn insecure, knowing Warren's not comfortable touching him.
"You're not asking me to? " Warren pauses and has the grace to blush. "To step in there with you?"
Remy decides to let him off the hook. "Just need help dryin' my skin? Can wash my hair later?" he offers. Oui, he craves a shower to wash away the sweat. "I can try on my own?"
"No," Warren decides quickly. "Don't want you taking a fall in there. So I take it you want that shower first?"
"Oui?"
"I'm going upstairs and fill up the bath tub for you, Remy. You stay here and rest?" His eyes plead for understanding.
"I will be good and wait?" Remy teases him. It does amuse him to see Warren all flushed and nervous. Something tells him this isn't typical behavior for Warren.
Warren hurries upstairs and into the bathroom. Quickly, he establishes a nice temperature and lets the bathtub fill. "What the hell am I doing?" he mutters as he stares at his reflection in the mirror. How he hates that damned blue skin! How can Remy stand looking at it all the time?
"I can't?" Images of Remy standing naked in front of him make him groan. But he's getting aroused at the same time. He's seen Remy partly naked. Has seen the scars on his back and chest? "He needs your help because he's wounded for crying out loud!" he chides himself!
"Warren? Ange?"
"Coming!" Warren replies and fights down his arousal. //Damn! Can't be happening right now!// After he calmed down, he rushes down the stairs. "Come on, Cajun. Let's get you cleaned up."
Remy struggles to his feet, allowing Warren to help him. "Dat's many stairs," he whispers fatigued.
"I can carry you," Warren replies, not sure if he just tried to be funny or being serious.
"I can walk?" Remy mumbles, but leans heavily on his love. "Bedroom's upstairs too?"
"Yes and we need to talk about sleeping arrangements."
Remy's eyes widen a little. Doesn't Warren want to sleep in the same bed with him? Does he want separate bedrooms? And he was so looking forward to falling asleep in Warren's arms! But he can't push his love. "Whatever you decide is fine wid me?"
Never expecting that answer Warren peeks at him. Damn his insecurity! "Do you need? you know, need help to undress?" //Please let him say no!// he thinks, almost panicking.
"Just de sweater?" Remy sees the discomfort and his throat tightens. Warren is keeping him at a distance.
Warren nods his head and opens the door to the bathroom. Steam attacks them.
"Warm in here, non?" Remy whispers, a little nervous as well.
"Lean against me," Warren instructs in a heavy tone and strips off Remy's coat. Then his hands move underneath the sweater and pull the garment over Remy's head. It drops onto the floor and Warren tries hard not to stare at the Cajun, remembering his earlier arousal.
"Merci, cher? I t'ink I can manage de rest." No longer amused, but saddened, he watches Warren flee the room. "Am I dat? ugly?" he whispers nervously and manages to catch part of his reflection in the mirror. He flinches at the sight of the web of scars. "Mebbe I am?"
Warren busies himself by carrying in the last pieces of their luggage. Good thing his mum left most stuff like clothes, towels and a lot of kitchen gear behind on their last family trip. He listens to the sounds coming from the bathroom, hoping that Remy will call for help should he need him.
But no disturbing sounds emanate from the bathroom. Just to make sure he knocks. "Everything fine, Rem?"
"Oui?" Remy whispers absentmindedly. The warm water engulfs his tired body. Mon Dieu, this feels good!
"Going to unpack. Call me if when you need me?" Warren's eyes travel to the three bedrooms situated on this floor. One has a double and the other rooms only have singles. Where to put his stuff? Does he want to sleep in the same room with Remy? In the same bed or??
//Damn! He said, whatever decision I made was fine with him!// Remy is forcing him to make a decision. "Take it slow?" he reminds himself and puts his bags in the room with the two singles. He carries Remy's bags into the room with the double.
Remy sighs as he pulls the plug. Slowly, the water disappears, leaving him cold and miserable. He feels sluggish and his head lolls as he tries to reach for the towels. Merde, taking a bath was the wrong thing to do! "Warren? Ange? Need your help, cher."
"I'm on my way, Remy." Warren quickly finishes unpacking and returns to the bathroom. After taking a deep breath, he opens the door.
"Can' reach de towels, cher," Remy whispers softly, seeing the embarrassment in his love's blue eyes.
"You're? naked," Warren whispers and quickly looks away. Oh, thank God Bobby isn't here! Drake would have a laughing fit! He grabs one large towel and walks over to the bathtub, trying very hard not to look at Remy's body.
//So, I'm ugly after all,// Remy thinks saddened. //Can' blame him? too many scars.// He grabs Warren's offered hand, eager to get wrapped up in that warm towel, feeling terribly chilly at once.
Warren peeks at his love's eyes, uncertain what to say. "I'll take you to your bedroom," he informs Remy and folds the towel around the young Cajun's form. Quickly, he grabs another towel and slings it around the auburn wet hair.
"Cold? wet?" Remy murmurs as tremors rock his body.
"Damn!" escapes Warren, but he quickly recomposes himself, knowing he has to dry Remy's skin.
Remy notices the hesitance in his love's movements and he reaches the conclusion that Warren doesn't like to touch him because? of the scars, of his past? Oui, maybe being attracted to a man makes Warren feel uncomfortable, but he doubts it would freak Angel out. Suddenly, he just wants out of the room, away from Warren.
Warren's not blind and sees the self-doubt on Remy's face. "Rem, I told you before it's not you. It's me?"
The words tear into his mind. "Can' believe dat. De scars?"
"I've got scars too, Remy. They're part of you? me. I don't? love you less because of them." Sheepishly, Warren stares at the floor. Did he really say that?
"Cher, je t'aime?" Remy assures him. "Mais I need to lay down."
"Of course." Warren chides himself for being this self-absorbed and walks Remy into the master bedroom. "Get in bed, Remy. I need to renew your bandages."
Saddened, Remy realizes that only his things are in the room. Warren's bags aren't here. //Separate bedrooms!// he cringes, uncertain if he can sleep without Warren close. As he rests his body on the bed, he has to admit that the mattress is just perfect.
Warren retrieves the bag with medical supplies. He sits down on the side of the bed and pulls the blankets over Remy's body. "Need to get everything out first. Don't want you to grow cold."
"It's warm in here, cher," Remy corrects him. That heater has to be blasting on maximum setting!
Warren puts the bandages and the salve to disinfect the wound on the bed next to him. "Let's have a look, Remy. Good thing that Hank insisted we all got some first aid training."
"Hank?" The name sparkles a memory. "Blue fur?"
"Yes. Doctor Henry McCoy, Hank, the Beast? Remember him?"
Slowly, Remy nods his head. "Runs de medical lab."
"Yeah, that's Hank. Now, lay still!" Warren pulls back the blanket and carefully removes the wet bandage. "It's not infected yet," he reassures Remy, "But it looks angry and raw?" Absorbed in his task, he focuses on supplying medical attention. First he applies the balm and then redresses the wound. "You need to rest, Remy or that wound will never heal properly."
But Remy hardly hears his words, too focused on the touch of those warm and gentle fingers, so unlike the Antiquary's touch! //Non, merde? don' want to think 'bout him now!// he chides himself. In an effort to distract himself he asks, "What time is it anyway?" His biological clock is totally messed up!
"9 PM," Warren replies. "Not too early for you to turn in."
"I'm hungry?" Remy objects. "And dat couch is really comfortable."
"Well, I can fix dinner? and you can watch TV." Suddenly, he realizes the absurdity of the situation. When do X-Men get the time and opportunity to live a normal life? //Maybe this is my only chance? and I'm going to use it.//
"I can walk," Remy offers and gestures Warren to hand him some sweats. Awkwardly, he struggles to put them on.
Warren can no longer sit back idly and helps him to get into the sweater. But what about the pants? Hell, he can't withdraw his help now! So he grabs the sweat pants and slides them over Remy's feet, calves, thighs and? then jerks back.
Remy lifts a hand to soothe his love's worries, but Warren's already on his feet.
"Can you walk?" Warren asks in a neutral tone. Damn, helping Remy dress can't possibly arouse him and yet it does!
"Not sure, will try," Remy mutters once the sweats are in place. He swings his feet on the floor and instantly reaches for Warren.
"Got you, Rem," Warren's tone softens at once. "I better?" and lifts the younger man in his arms? "carry you."
Briefly, Remy feels angered, but then decides it's not worth arguing about. He places one hand behind Warren's back and holds on as his love carries him back to the living room.

"Remy? Give me a hand here?" He's balancing plates and bowls, filled with sandwiches and soup. "I need to get some groceries tomorrow?and a TV-guide!" he says amused as Remy keeps changing channels.
Thankfully, Remy accepts the food and balances it on his lap. "I am hungry!" he states resolved, waits for Warren to settle down on the couch as well and then digs into the sandwiches.
Amused, Warren watches him. "You've got a healthy appetite, Cajun! Hey, stop changing channels and?" he quickly claims the remote and changes back the channel. "We can watch this."
"What is dis?" Remy asks in between bites, literally devouring the food.
"The Sentinel? Show's okay." Warren pulls the blanket over their knees and worried, he watches Remy. "Are you warm enough?"
"Oui," Remy assures him and attacks the soup next. It's warm and as it slides down his throat he finally feels alive again. "We're playin' couch potato den dis eve?" he says awkwardly, not wanting to embarrass Warren any further.
"Sure?" Warren rests his feet on the coffee table and wonders about his new lover. "You sure this is fine with you? Being here with me in this secluded ?"
"More dan fine, ange," Remy whispers as he finishes the soup. "More?" and extends his empty bowl.
Cursing softly, Warren struggles to his feet from underneath the blanket and returns to the kitchen. "Here, this is the last bit." He hands Remy the soup.
"Will do," Remy says reassuringly and snuggles up to his love when Warren sits back down again.
Warren isn't sure how to react. Remy's so close! After debating the matter privately, he decides to allow this, but his fingers remain curled around his bowl. It's unnerving enough that Remy's closeness tends to arouse him! "Rem?"
"It's 'kay, ange," Remy says softly and rests his head on his love's shoulders. "I just want you close? please?
"Okay." Warren covers them both with the blanket and slowly starts to relax watching the program. "Actually, this is kinda nice?" he admits in a choked tone.
"Hum?" Remy whispers, feeling too cosy to talk, simply enjoying Warren's warm body next to his. //Oui, it is.//

 

Chapter Twenty-One

New Orleans.
"Where's Remy?"
Jean-Luc cringes hearing that upset voice. Just what he needs? an angry tante giving him hell! "Mattie ? you're too late. Remy just left." She will be disappointed that he didn't insist Remy stayed until she returned. It's been too many years since Mattie has seen Remy. He knows she wants to hug and spoil him? just like he does!
Logan looks up questioningly as the source of the sudden noise sails into the study. He studies the middle- aged woman, whose hair is decorated with coloured beads. He groans, instantly realizing she's used to being in charge too.
She returns his questioning stare and raises an inquisitive eyebrow. Eventually, she addresses the patriarch. "Jean-Luc? Who's dis?" Normally, he never allows a stranger into his study. "And what's dis about bein' too late to see Remy? You didn' let him leave, did you?" She moves around until she stands in front of the desk.
"De assassins got restless and threatened to attack him inside de house. I had to get him out!" Jean-Luc states resolved. "Mais don't worry about de petite. He's in de best hands. I will update you later, d'accord?"
"I want to know everyt'ing about mon fils," Mattie sighs heavily. "I was so lookin' forward to holdin' him in my arms! How can you do this to me, Jean-Luc LeBeau?"
Amused, Logan watches the exchange. Suddenly, Jean-Luc seems on the defensive, like he needs to justify his actions to this woman! Intriguing!
"And who is dis?" Mattie gestures at the stranger in the armchair. "Have you become careless durin' my absence? He might be an assassin!" Disappointment and concern mingle in her tone. Disappointment because she's too late to see Remy and concern because Jean-Luc is acting oddly.
"Dis is Logan?" Jean-Luc introduces him and then wavers. What to call Logan? //Friend? Fuckbuddy? Mattie will faint hearing dat one! Or lover?//
As tante looks into Logan's eyes she shivers, seeing the feral side hiding in his soul. "You're a mutant!"
"Yeah," Logan says calmly. "And who are ya?"
"I raised Remy? together with Jean-Luc."
"She's family," Jean-Luc clarifies, eyes filled with discomfort, which he aims at Logan. Merde, there's no denying. They'll have to talk about their relationship, which has become so much more in so little time! He never planned on getting seriously involved with the Canadian, but sometimes things don't go as expected. But he has to follow his heart, like he always did. It's the same heart that urged him to help Remy escape from the Antiquary's collection. He still wishes he tried to get the other kids out as well. Knowing that the Antiquary ruined so many lives still haunts him.
"I'm Mattie." She extends her hand, curious to see whether Logan will accept it.
"Logan," he grumbles, trying to cover up his own confusion at the looks Jean-Luc is giving him. They feel intimate and? sensual instead of sexual?
"Mais it's good you're back, Mattie. I need your help." Jean-Luc leans back into the comfort of the chair. "I made a decision during dese last few days." He hasn't discussed this yet with Logan. Oui, he wanted to, but at that very moment Mattie arrived. But he's determined to follow through, no matter what their reaction will be like!
Now tante is getting suspicious as well. "What's goin' on, Jean?" Something in the patriarch's eyes makes her wary. She knows he's living a hard life, but?
"I'm going after de Antiquary," Jean-Luc announces in a firm tone, expecting disbelief and maybe even annoyance on Mattie's part. It's not the first time he made this announcement, but this time it's for real.
Logan gives him a surprised glance. Isn't that his job? Tracking the bastard down? Not only because he promised Warren, but also because he wants to make sure the bastard never bothers Remy again. So why is Jean-Luc this determined to get involved personally? The Guild needs its patriarch! No way Jean-Luc can leave New Orleans like that!
"We'll do it together," Jean-Luc enlightens him. "De Antiquary is full of magic tricks? You will need help."
Displeased, Mattie shakes her head. "Bad idea, Jean."
"Why?" Logan growls. "I'm surprised ya never confronted the bastard for what he did to Remy!"
She smiles. Ah, this man cares about Remy? Good! Suddenly, she likes him. "You don' understand, Logan," she says carefully. "De Antiquary was de? 'patron' of de t'ieves' Guild for many? " //centuries?// "decades. His magic ensured de Guild's success." She can't tell him the truth, can't tell him that the Guild's leaders depended on the Antiquary to supply them with the potion of eternal life. Only the Antiquary knows its secret concoction. It was the one thing the Antiquary used to control the patriarch.
"Too high a prize to pay!" Logan snarls venomously.
"I understand how you feel," tante assures him. "It broke our hearts too when we realized what he did to Remy, but? de Antiquary stands above de Guild. Even de patriarch had to follow his orders," she tries to explain.
Suddenly, Logan's eyes shoot fire. //Always wondered how the bastard got his hands on the kid.// Looking at Jean-Luc he clearly detects the guilt in his eyes. //Ya stole him!// Trying hard, he manages to stay in control of his rage. This is something he wants to discuss in private later! "Ya got any idea where we can find the bastard?"
Mattie's glance shifts from Logan to Jean-Luc. "You don' want to do dis. De Antiquary agreed to leave Remy alone. You don' want to draw his attention to de boy!"
"De Antiquary left Remy alone because I banished him!" Jean-Luc explodes. "It's time we got some answers, Mattie. For Remy's sake, we need to find out why de Antiquary's obsessed with him!"
"He's right, ya know," Logan cuts in. "What if the bastard decides he wants Remy back after all?"
Mattie cocks her head, thinking this over. "De Guild won' accept you goin' after him," she states eventually. "Dey never forgave you for banishin' him. De Guild has become weak because de Antiquary no longer backs dem up."
"Dat's de second decision I've made," Jean-Luc says calmly and gets to his feet. Leaning over the desk, he bares his teeth and says sharply, "I'm going to step down as patriarch!"

Ireland
"Uh, Rem?" Warren switches off the TV. It's almost midnight, and although the couch is comfortable, a bed is way more desirable. Remy's head rests on his shoulder and the Cajun snuggled up to him during the eve.
At first, he had a hard time controlling his nervousness. Remy feels warm and fits so perfectly against him that it makes him wonder if this was destined to happen. No, he doesn't believe in destiny, but sometimes you can't help but wonder. "Remy?" he repeats softly.
"Don'?" Remy whispers, refusing to wake from this peaceful sleep. Even his nightmares are keeping a distance now that Warren is this close. His right hand sneaks up, finds Warren's and squeezes it gently.
"Looks like I've got to carry you to bed," Warren announces, uncertain whether that prospect thrills or frightens him. Careful not to pull away the blanket, he succeeds in lifting Remy in his arms. Slowly, he makes his way upstairs. Damn, he's swaying too! His back objects to carrying this weight now that he's fatigued.
He kicks open the door to Remy's bedroom and gently lays him down, covering him with blankets and comforter. Looking through the window, he realizes it's still getting colder. "Hopefully it won't snow," he whispers, uncertain how Remy will react to snow and ice.
"Don'," Remy repeats in sleep and his hand lunges forward to reach for Warren.
"Get more sleep, Rem? I'm across the corridor. Just call if you need me," he soothes the young Cajun. Briefly, he sits down, closely observing his new love. He clasps his hands tightly, trying to keep them from tangling in the auburn hair. //Why the hell am I fighting this?// he wonders. //I want to touch him? and he wants it too? Why can't I do this?//
Hesitantly, he lifts one hand and lets it hover over Remy's face. The Cajun looks so damn young and vulnerable. "Just how old are you?" He never considered that question before. From what Jean-Luc told him Remy was about 18 when he had to leave New Orleans? So that makes him what? 22? 23? He never realized Remy is this young. Leading a hard life makes him look older.
Suddenly, his fingers touch the soft locks and he lets go of the breath he's been holding subconsciously. The locks feel like silk. //Okay? I can touch his hair? what about his skin?// Determined to take the next step as well, his fingers trail down to Remy's brow. Fascinated, he softly caresses the scar there. He flinches, remembering how Remy got it. 'He wanted to fuck me for money!' Remy had whispered in choked tone.
"That will never happen again," he promises emotionally. "Never." His fingers now trail down to those luscious red lips and he traces their outline. Shakily, he pulls back, impressed that he has the guts to actually touch a man like this. "Sleep tight, Remy and dream of your angels," he whispers warmly. He tucks Remy in and decides to keep one lamp on so his love won't wake up in complete darkness.
As he makes his way to his own room, he suddenly feels alone and cold. Part of him insists it's stupid to sleep in separate rooms, but? //I'm not ready yet!//
Warren keeps tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Something is wrong. His instincts refuse to settle down and push him to his feet. Staring at the door, he wonders if this is about Remy.
Quickly, he looks at the time. "0400," he whispers nervously. So far this has been a sleepless night. Maybe he will feel better if he checks on Remy. Reassured, he might be able to fall asleep for the rest of the night.
Warren gets to his feet, shivering from the cold. It's an old house and the heater is off. He's tempted to sneak back underneath the comforter. "No, I want to check on Remy first. What if he's having a nightmare?"
He trembles, knowing only too well there's another reason why he can't sleep. Apocalypse and the Marauders who took his wings are waiting for him in his dreamscape. No way he wants to relive the pain of losing his wings! //And what when Remy remembers how I lost them? I'm not sure, but it wouldn't surprise me if he feels guilty about that too? // Damn, he learned so much about the way the Cajun's mind works that it scares him.
Tough times are ahead and he knows it. What will happen when Remy remembers Rogue deserting him? What when he remembers the trial? //And me refusing to defend him any longer?// Ashamed, he grabs a blanket, drapes it over his shoulders and then walks into the corridor.

Frantically, Remy crawls out of bed, falling hard onto the floor. His side pounds alarmingly and he shakes violently. //Can' stay in dat bed!// he thinks in a panic. After he crawled into the corner of the room, he pulls up his knees and hugs them tightly. He completely ignores the pain in his side.
"Too silent?" It's too silent in here. He needs some noise to convince him that he isn't in the Antiquary's private rooms any longer. Although the room's illuminated, it doesn't convince him. The Antiquary can summon illusions?
And then there is this horrible dream, this horrific nightmare! His body trembles with remembered pain. He is back in the Antiquary's rooms and the old man continues to tell him how badly he messed up his life. It almost feels like he's charged with his mistakes, like he's put on trial?
"Guilty," the Antiquary says in his mind and Remy tries to hide from the ugly dream, but can't escape his dream world.
"You may execute him," the Antiquary states pleased.
He screams, as something sharp caresses the skin of his throat. Briefly, he's on his hands and knees, a guillotine looming over him, threatening to separate his head from the rest of his body. "Non," he whispers scared.
"It's time tuh die, sugah?"
That voice sends him into hysterics. Crazed, he tries to get away from it, but instead he's being hauled into the air and then dropped onto the freezing ice. It's a death sentence and he knows it. He doesn't want to look into her eyes, but he needs to know? "Why?"
She doesn't answer, simply flies away and suddenly the Antiquary's hands are all over him. Sharp slaps descend hard onto his body because he had the audacity to fall asleep in his master's bed without permission. It's the only place where he's allowed to sleep and he was so tired!
Warren hurries over to him, flings the blanket from his shoulders and wraps it around Remy's shaking form. Is it just his imagination or are Remy's lips blue? "Remy? Rem! Listen to me. Listen to my voice. Come on, you've got to wake up. It's a nightmare," he whispers, sitting on his heels next to the Cajun. "Please, Rem."
He hears something, words, a voice, but can't think rationally. She wants him dead. The Antiquary wants him dead and? "Poppa?" he whispers eventually, reaching out for the lifeline that saved him so many times before.
"Remy? It's me, Warren. Please look at me," he pleads. Acting on impulse, he throws away his unease and slowly folds his arms around him. "Look at me, Remy. You're safe." Slowly, the red on black eyes turn a little more lucid. "Come on, Rem, I love you? come back to me?"
His eyes blink? The voice is warm, passionately and begging him to listen. "So cold." The ice and snow now cover most of his body and he lost the feel in his limbs a long time ago.
"Remy? I'm going to get you back into bed?" Remy's scream cuts him short. Forcing himself to remain calm, he waits for Remy to stop screaming. "What?"
"Can' go to bed? it's his bed and I'm so tired, will fall 'sleep wit'out his permission? so quiet? too quiet."
Warren sighs distressed. Did the Antiquary force Remy to stay awake when he was drained? Had Remy needed the bastard's permission to get some sleep? Biting down his anger is hard, but Remy needs him and he manages to speak calmly. "You can go to sleep, Rem?"
"Can'?" Remy maintains. "It's too quiet?" he shivers violently, cold to the bone. He still hasn't fully returned to reality. The strange woman and the Antiquary are laughing at him, at his pain and horror.
"What if I stay the night?" Warren whispers. His own suggestion shocks him. "So much for sleeping separately." As he slowly lifts his love, he realizes how cold Remy feels. "Just trust me to take care of you, Rem."
Too tired, too screwed up from all the nightmares that mingle in his mind, Remy doesn't object. He goes limp in the strong arms, sensing a steady heartbeat underneath his fingertips. His head rests against a chest and then he feels the mattress underneath his body. His instincts kick in. "Can' fall 'sleep." The antiquary will punish him!
"Yes, you can, love?" The word slips from his lips unintended and Warren briefly trembles himself. "I'll hold you," he promises passionately. He sneaks into bed and pulls Remy into his arms. "We need to get you warm, Remy." First, he pulls the blankets and comforter over them and then he folds his arms around Remy's waist and shoulders, facing him. "Come closer, Remy."
He has given up on protesting and moves into the arms, rests his head against the warm body and holds on for warmth and comfort. It feels good to be held like this and slowly, the cold becomes more bearable. It takes him several minutes to recompose himself, but then he looks into Warren's blue eyes.
"Better?" Warren inquires, pushing away his unease at holding Remy. The Cajun cuddles up to him, fitting perfectly in his arms. Smiling weakly, he places a kiss on Remy's brow, barely believing he's really doing this. Next, he tucks Remy's head underneath his chin, soothingly rubbing the Cajun's back.
"Much better?"
"Do you want to talk about that nightmare?" Warren can't help it. One hand trails up Remy's back and gently strokes the auburn locks. This feels incredibly right, like this is meant to be. Remy shivers underneath his fingertips. "Scared you that much?"
Remy isn't sure he wants to talk about the nightmare, but an ingrained reflex takes over. Poppa always made him tell and he can't help but react in the same way now. "Dere's ice? ice and snow all 'round me and? he is dere, tellin' me I have to die for my mistakes?" Soft sobs shake his body.
"Shst," Warren soothes him. "I'm here? no one is going to hurt you. I promise."
"And den dere's dis woman. She's beautiful, but her eyes are cold? so fuckin' cold!"
//Rogue,// Warren realizes instinctively. //He's starting to remember the trial!// Panic washes over him, scared that Remy will also remember his part in that trial. //I failed you, Rem.//
"Why does she want me dead?" Remy asks nervously. "Because of de? de Massacre?" Speaking the words still hurts.
"Rem, listen to me," Warren cups his love's chin in his hand and forces him to lock eyes. "You didn't cause the Massacre. Sinister used you. Please, forgive yourself for that."
Remy's eyes grew big. "I t'ought?"
"What?" Sudden apprehension sweeps through him. //Just what do you remember, Remy?//
"Dat you blamed me?"
"Remy?" Scared, he stares into the alien eyes. "I don't blame you." Yes, at one time he blamed the Cajun for leading the Marauders into the tunnels, but the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that Sinister set Remy up. "You didn't know it would be a slaughter. If you had, you would never have led them there. That's why Creed?" his voice trails off as Remy yelps in his arms. "Rem?"
"Creed? claws.. pain? the tunnels? tried to save dem! I really tried, mais?" Remy's raving, clawing at his chest. "He left scars? just like de Antiquary did."
"Remy?" Something inside him snaps seeing the watering red on black eyes. The sobs start anew. "It's okay. Let it out, Rem. Tell me what scares you. No more secrets."
"He ripped open my chest? left me dere to die? I could only save a girl? bones stickin' out of her body." He refuses to close his eyes, refusing to go back there. "I don' t'ink I ever told anyone 'fore," he whispers melancholy, "At least not dat I remember? mais for a moment it felt like deir pain was mine. Like all de people dying were inside my head and I couldn' get 'way from dem. After Creed slashed me I lay dere, listenin' to dem dyin'?"
"Damn, Remy!" Warren whispers distressed. "I never knew." His arms tighten around the Cajun, stroking, caressing and holding him close.
"Can you forgive me?" Remy looks into his blue eyes, scared of what he will find there. "I never wanted to get dem killed. T'ought Sinister would help dem, like he helped me."
"Helped you? How did he help you?"
"Removed brain stem matter," Remy confesses choked. "My power was out of control. I owed him?"
Speechless, Warren just holds his gaze prisoner. "I forgive you for being young and naive, for letting Sinister use you."
"De Massacre?"
"You didn't cause the Massacre, Remy." Warren waits until Remy regulates his breathing. "Want me to stay or?"
"Stay," Remy whispers upset. "I need you?"
"I'm here." Warren doesn't know how to offer more comfort. "I love you, Rem."
Remy smiles against his chest. "Je t'aime, ange," he confesses passionately. "Stay and hold me?" It's all he wants, listening to Warren's heartbeat, feeling this warm body close to his. "Can' be 'lone."
"I'll stay. Now try to get back to sleep, love."
"Love it when you call me dat, cher," Remy admits blissfully. "Don' let go of me," he pleads.
"I won't," he promises. "Will hold you through the night."
Reassured, Remy closes his eyes, adjusting his heartbeat to Warren's slower one and drained, he dozes off again.

Sunlight slowly drips into their bedroom and it's Warren who first opens his eyes. Something warm and heavy is nestled against his chest and curiously, he opens his eyes.
"Rem," he whispers taken aback. The Cajun's eyes are slightly red from crying, but he looks breathtaking in the morning light. So beautiful. So perfect. His heart stirs with want and love.
//Too soon. We need more time,// he realizes and tries to ignore his morning hard-on. Maybe a cold shower will help. Then he's going to get their groceries so he can prepare a decent breakfast. "Forgot to bring in the laptop," he remembers. Bobby will want to know everything is fine and Remy can email Jean-Luc that they arrived safely.
Remy stirs in his arms, nuzzling his throat and chest. The touch travels straight to his groin. To him, Remy is liquid sensuality, seeping into his pores. He has to get away before his determination crumbles! "Will be back with breakfast in an hour," he promises and struggles from underneath the blankets. Knowing Remy's warm and soundly asleep he walks into the bathroom.
Thirty minutes later, Remy opens his eyes too. His memories of last night are kind of foggy. He remembers having nightmares about ice, a strange woman and the Antiquary of course. Shivering, he wonders why the old man can't leave him alone, why he has to haunt his dreams as well.
His head snaps back, suddenly remembering being pulled into warm and strong arms. Warred soothed him last night, caressing his skin, listening to his confessions. "He forgave me," Remy whispers nervously.
Although Warren answered some of his questions, he doesn't know why the ice and the strange woman are in his dreams. Are they fragments of his past or part of his imagination? Only Warren knows the answer, but he's too scared to ask.
Speaking of Warren? Why is he alone in bed? He manages to sit upright and looks about. The room is empty. There's nothing that proves Warren spent part of the night here? Nothing that proves Warren did call him love. Was it just another dream?
Fighting his panic, he pushes back the covers and struggles to his feet. His side throbs and he remembers taking a hard fall last night. He clenches his eyes shut, trying to lock out the pain. Panicking, he wonders where Warren is. If it was just a dream Warren has to be in the other bedroom!
He drags the blanket with him, trying to hang on to a little of the warmth they built during the night. His bare feet move over the floor. Luckily it's not that cold any longer. Seems like the heater kicked in.
As he reaches Warren's bedroom he freezes in dread. The bed's neatly made and the room is empty. "Warren? Ange?" he calls out in sheer fear of abandonment. Frantically, he checks the dresser and cupboards. Warren's clothes are still here? Still here? maybe Warren is in the kitchen or?
His heart beats irregularly, scared to uncover the horrible truth that Warren deserted him a second time. Maybe he realized that he couldn't deal with being in love with a man after all!
"Mon Dieu? please," he stutters, almost in tears. "Not 'gain? he can' leave me 'gain!" Merde, this means that it was just another dream after all. Warren never came to his room to comfort him. It was just a fucking dream!
Shaking himself to pieces he descends the stairs, still hoping to hear Warren whistling, see him move about, but the kitchen is empty and so is the living room. With a startling sense of resignation, he looks out of the window. "De car's gone? de car's gone?"
He drags himself over to the couch. Plates and bowls from yesterday eve are still on the coffee table, reminding him of the comfortable evening they shared. But it is over now. "I'm a fool," he chides himself. A fool for love.
Clutching his head in his hands he continues to fight his tears. He should have known Warren would change his mind. After all, Warren left him before.
Suddenly, his heart misses a beat. Can it be? He rushes over to the window and can't believe his eyes. After parking the car Warren kicks open the doors, balancing groceries in his arms. One item falls onto the ground and Remy smiles hearing the loud curse. "I am a fool," he says chidingly, "A fool for believin' he would leave me!"
He never felt happier in his entire life, terribly relieved that his worst fear didn't come true. Acting on impulse, he hurries over to the door. After opening it he walks towards Warren. He needs to be reassured that his love is back, needs the reassurance so badly that is hurts!
"Rem! Get inside! Crazy Cajun! You're supposed to be resting!" Warren quickly takes in his flushed appearance and my God, are there really tears swimming in Remy's eyes? //Shit!// he realizes. //Remy thought I deserted him again!// The thought drives a sharp knife through his heart. "Had to buy groceries," he explains in a choked tone.
Remy takes one of the grocery bags and heads inside again, now feeling the cold climb up his legs. //Can' tell him what I t'ought! He will hate me for it!//
"Rem?" Warren puts the other bags on the kitchen counter and watches his back. "Remy?" Slowly, he turns the Cajun around. "I should have left a note. Should have told you I was going to the store? didn't want to spook you," he apologizes. Since last night it's easier to touch Remy and his fingers brush some stray locks behind his love's ears. "I'm sorry."
Lost for words, Remy trembles. Mon Dieu, Warren knows what he's thinking!
"You know I'm still working on this, Remy, but? can I hold you?" It's a huge step. Holding and caressing Remy last night was different. The Cajun had needed the support, the affection, but now he's taking the initiative. He slightly opens his arms.
Remy doesn't hesitate and flings himself into them. Without speaking a single word he leans heavily on his love, treasuring that heartbeat underneath his ears. "I'm sorry too."
Warren smiles saddened. "I understand that you believed I left you, Remy. I did that before, but I promise I won't do it again."
"Still need to get used to? you lovin' me," Remy admits.
"Are you hungry, Remy?" Warren cocks his head and manages to catch his alien eyes. "We can fix breakfast together."
"Would love dat." Remy nods his head. "It's cold in here, cher," he says, trying to let go of the pain. Warren didn't desert him! //Need to get over dis fear and insecurity!//
Warren refuses to let go yet. Now that he has taken this step, he refuses to release Remy this quickly. "Last night was a revelation," he whispers softly.
"Last night?" Remy cringes. "So you know 'bout de nightmares?" He feels embarrassed and ashamed for being that weak last night. That was not the way he wanted to draw his lover's attention. Merde! He doesn't want Warren to see him like that!
Warren recognizes his fear and gently tangles in the silky hair. "I think I'm getting over my fear of touching you." Now, if that doesn't get Remy's attention, nothing will!
"Uh?" Remy's eyes flash brightly. He expected Warren to address the Massacre, not? this.
"I wanted to hold you so badly that? that I just went ahead and did it? just like I'm doing now." The bewilderment in Remy's eyes doesn't surprise him. "Maybe we can take the next step?" He's damned nervous, but he really, really wants to do this.
"Next step?" Remy repeats entranced. Only now he realizes how close Warren is. Gentle fingers stroke his hair and another hand soothingly rubs his back? Mon Dieu!
"I want to kiss you, Rem," Warren admits. "Would you like me to kiss you?" Yes, he can do this. He can kiss Remy's lips!
"Mais oui," Remy whispers wide-eyed.
Warren leans in, holding him close. At first, his lips tentatively brush Remy's and electricity spreads through his body. Those lips are soft and sensually respond to his kiss. "Oh, my God," he whispers, suddenly realizing just how badly he wants this.
Surrendering to the kiss Remy closes his eyes, willingly parting his lips and allowing Warren entry. He whimpers as their tongues start a slow duel, chasing each other. His body presses tightly into Warren's and he pants shallowly as the kiss continues and deepens.
Warren can't take his eyes of him, so warm and so perfect. Short of breath, he's forced to stop the kiss. "Sorry, Rem?" he whispers, noticing the bruised lips. "Didn't want to?"
"Ange?" Remy smiles reassuringly. That kiss took his breath away too. "I'm wobbly 'gain," he remarks teasingly. Mon Dieu, for a moment he thought he had died and gone to heaven. "More later?"
"Most certainly? more? longer? later," Warren mumbles at a loss. //I never had a chance fighting this. This is meant to be? this is destiny.//
One arm still wrapped around his love's waist, he pulls Remy into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Something ensures him this will be a passionate day.

 

Go on to Part6

Go back to Part4