Title: Charmed

Author: TheCelt (Thecelt99@hotmail.com)

Website: none

Rating: NC-17

Pairing / Main characters: Gambit/Cyclops

Series/Sequel: complete

Summary: Remy uses his charm powers on Scott.

Disclaimer: X-men belong to Marvel, I own nothing. I make no money on this. Please don´t sue.

Warning: graphic m/m-sex

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Charmed

By TheCelt

 

Gambit's coal-and-ember eyes narrowed as he peered through the grill that concealed his hiding place in the air vent. Another bead of sweat found its way down his face, following a deep furrow of concentration and dripped from his chin. He was so hot, and the grime from the long-uncleaned ventilation duct that had mingled with his sweat coated him like a second skin. How long had he stayed there like that? The minutes had turned into hours, but he could not move. Too much was at stake to blow his cover now.

He felt a strand of hair stray against his face. He longed to reach up and brush it away, but he didn't dare. He wished it were summer. Then the air coursing through the air duct would be cool, but it wasn't. It was winter, and the air was warm and suffocating. He could feel the sweat beading up beneath his familiar body armor, pooling at his elbows and knees and the toes of his boots. Even the small of his back. Anywhere his body was angled that would harbor a place for the liquid to collect instead of run off. Perhaps it was not the most practical gear to be wearing while hiding out in a heater vent, but it was his style, and this covert operation required him to be himself as much as he possibly could.

There! He could see the man now. The man below moved to the center of the room. His back was turned to Gambit. He moved about the room, completely unaware of the master thief watching him. The poor thing. Remy's lips turned up in a sly smile.

Gambit watched as the man stripped out of his warm sweater and nicely pressed pants and changed into silken pajamas. The man slipped into his bed, and Remy waited until the man's chest rose and fell in the natural rhythm of sleep. Once Remy was satisfied the man was deep in sleep, he silently removed the vent cover. In one fluid movement, Gambit poured himself out of the vent. Like a silent cat in the night, he landed on the floor just a few feet from the sleeping man. He looked up at the motionless form beneath the blankets. Again, his lips curled up in a devious smile.

Gambit crept up beside the bed. He was crouched beside it for the longest time before he gave himself the courage to stand. It was time to go to work.

He closed his eyes as he began concentrating all his energy into emitting as much of his charm power as he was capable of producing. Gambit tilted his head back and spread his arms wide as he felt everything that was in him surge through his body and flow forth to fill the room. It was a strong power. One that even he doubted he fully mastered. It swelled forth, enveloping the room, bathing it in a warmth that was almost suffocating.

At long last, Remy's eyes slowly opened. He leaned down to the sleeping form beside him. As he whispered in the man's ear, another aspect of his charm power went to work. It was like silent fingers softly entered the mind of the unconscious man. The charm power reached in and caressed and manipulated subconscious thoughts, bending them to match the words Remy whispered.

Gambit saw the man's eyelashes flutter as he subconsciously struggled to resist the charm power he was not even fully aware of. His hand reached up and stroked the man gently on the cheek. His own skilled hands were soft, but he briefly marveled at the softness of this male's skin. It was so warm, too. An extra boost of charm ebbed from his flesh into the man, and he calmed, smiling even as he settled into deep sleep.

His work there was done. Gambit withdrew his hand from the man's soft cheek and started to stand, but something stopped him. He didn't know if it was the innocent expression on the sleeping man's face, or if it had been the softness of the man's warm flesh. Or if it was his own charm power backlashing and affecting him as it was supposed to affect his sleeping mark.

Before Remy could stop himself, he gently pressed his own lips to those of the sleeping man. Oh, they were warm and soft! And those lips trembled slightly as if struggling to return the soft kiss! As much as Remy hated to, he pulled away.

Remy was pushing his luck being in there as long as he had been. It was one of the foremost rules of being a thief to be in and out of a job as quick as possible. He had to move fast before his luck and his charm power ran out.

He winced as the air vent cover made the slightest grating noise as he pulled it back into place behind him as he returned to his hiding place in the air duct. He was long gone by the time the light in the room below switched on.

The man woke up with a start. He reached for the light and his glasses on the table beside his bed. He blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to being suddenly awake. He looked around the room, but it was empty.

The man shook his head. Perhaps it wasn't a noise that woke him. It was so stifling warm there in his room. And he had just had the oddest dream, if only he could remember it. He ran his fingers through his sandy brown hair and sighed. Too bad the ruby quartz lens of his glasses prevented him from seeing the fuzzy pink glow of charm that bathed the entire room.

With a sigh, the man known as Cyclops removed his glasses and dropped back against his pillow. It was gong to be a long and sleepless night. If only he could remember the dream. All Scott Summers could recall was a man. A tall man with a devious smile standing in the shadows. Damn it.

***

Gambit slipped into his room, moving like some kind of silent whirlwind. Before the lock in his door had finished clicking into place, he was half-stripped out of his body armor. Gambit kicked his clothes into the pile in the corner and unceremoniously deposited himself on his bed.

He stretched out like some satisfied cat as he lay on his back looking up at the ceiling. He liked the feel of the velvet duvet against the bare flesh of his back. He was funny like that. No matter what the situation was, no matter where he was or what he was doing, he always found himself noticing the finer things in life. Whether they were things he himself had acquired or were things he stumbled across, he noticed them. He thought momentarily of how he had once briefly admired this beautiful leaded tiffany glass window just seconds before he had tossed some adversary or another into it. He had a flickering thought of the craftsmanship that had gone into making that fine glass. He chuckled faintly at this memory before it faded into another thought as his mind raced along at his own fantastic pace.

He sat up and reached for the pack of cigarettes and lighter that waited for him on his bedside table. The flicker of flame from the lighter lit up his face with an eerie orange glow that chiseled his features with a host of ghostly shadows and light. He took a long drag off his cigarette. It was not merely the drag of an addicted cigarette smoker. He sucked on that cigarette with the kind of fervor two lovers would manifest in a long-awaited kiss. He rolled it thoughtfully between his fingers as he contemplated many things, blowing the smoke up toward the ceiling in long, drawn out exhalations. Damn, that cigarette was a best friend he couldn't get enough of. That cigarette was ecstasy.

With a soft sigh, Gambit stood as he snuffed out the remnants of his beloved cigarette and finished removing his clothes. He retrieved the clothing he had previously cast aside in haste and this time folded them carefully. His body armor was important to him. He had trained himself to be able to undress from whatever he was wearing and change into his body armor in the merest of minutes. This was no easy feat with his gear. It was a close fit, and somewhat heavy. Its numerous hidden pockets concealed a whole host of obscured weaponry and tools of his thieving craft.

Once he was satisfied that his body armor was carefully laid out and ready for use, he returned to his bed. It was a large antique oak bed that he had sent up from his house in New Orleans. It was beautifully crafted. It had a luxurious green velvet duvet covering a down comforter and the feather pillows were covered in silk cases. The bed originally had a fine gauzy curtain that veiled it. When he had the bed moved up from his old home in New Orleans, he had not bothered to put the fine veil back up since its purpose of shielding the bed's occupants from mosquitoes was not really needed up here in the cool New England climate. There in sultry Louisiana, it was almost a nightly necessity to have that thin white veil drawn.

Gambit softly sighed a lost lament at that flickering memory of what he used to call home. He missed that place some times. There would be fleeting moments, a smell, a breeze, some little thing would almost take him back to the lavish French Quarter or the sultry bayous he loved. But those fond memories were just as fleeting, and would disappear like the ghost of smoke from a snuffed out candle.

Remy stretched out again. How he loved the feel of velvet against his skin. It was warm and as soft as a lover's touch. Not the type of lover you pick up for a short-lived night of passion. The type of lover you wanted to be entwined with body and soul for as long as there was breath in your body.

Touch. His thoughts changed course and turned to reflections on his little adventure he had that night. Gambit really didn't know why he did what he had done. It started weeks ago. Something was building in him. He didn't know what it was, and it was making him irritable. There weren't enough sessions in the Danger Room to fight it out of him, and it was frustrating him. Then one evening he was brooding in an over-stuffed chair in front of the television. He wasn't watching the show at all. He was watching one of his teammates. Scott Summers. Cyclops.

Storm could not have struck Gambit with one of her powerful bolts of lightning as fast as the plan had formed. He watched Scott and his wife Jean Grey snuggled together on the couch. He could tell that the happy couple was deeply involved in one of their conversations. The type where no words passed their smiling lips because of the telepathic link that bound the two together. Gambit's own psy-talent could detect the psychic hum of their unspoken words though he would not allow himself to eavesdrop. Why not torment the one man that represented everything he could never have and never be?

Cyclops was the perfect man. He was handsome, but not vain enough to recognize that he could have any woman he wanted. He was a natural leader that did not surround himself with teammates to mask insecurities of being alone. Scott was cunning, but not always looking for the angle that best suited his needs. He had a beautiful wife who loved him. A beautiful woman who he could touch and love without fear of her sucking his very existence and every dark shadow of his being into hers with the slightest of flesh touching flesh.

Scott Summers was too damned flawless. That humorless perfectionist had it all, and was too single sighted to know what he had. It was about time someone took "Slim" and shook him up a bit. And Gambit was just the man who could pull Scott down. Oh, he was going to have some big fun playing with Cyclops. Like a cat toying with a mouse it eventually consumes.

But that kiss. It wasn't part of the plan, though it did seem to fit in so well. Perhaps it was just the charm power backlashing. Remy knew it was an incredibly strong power that he did not fully master yet. Hell, he didn't even know its limits yet. He had flooded Scott's room with so much of the charm. There had been so much, it had actually obtained a visible, tangible form. He could have picked it up from the floor, the table, every where the cotton candy like strands had accumulated in their solid form if he had reason to. He could have easily got swept away in the currents of it.

That kiss. It was so warm and soft. It held so much of what Remy had been missing lately. Gambit needed touch, and had been denied it almost as brutally as Rogue was. There was so little tender passion in his world any more. Gambit could walk into any bar and take home any woman in the place without even one slight surge of charm power. But those tawdry flings were nothing. They were hollow and empty. They lacked everything he truly wanted and needed.

Gambit's eyelids began to close in sleep on a black and red-ember storm of emotions. As the last faint strands of consciousness faded, he took his lover in his arms and pressed his lips to theirs. There was no painful surge of his darkened soul getting forcibly extracted from his being. There was no being pushed away in rejection. Dream lovers can do whatever you want. Even Rogue. Be whomever you want. Even Cyclops.

He felt like some sort of sick voyeur as he stood next to his own bed watching himself and Scott Summers. He watched himself reach for the other man and pull him close to him. Gambit relished the warmth of Cyclops' body. Warmth was something he couldn't get enough of, and this man radiated it like he was the sun itself. Gambit almost wished he had Rogue's ability to absorb so he could suck in all the warmth Cyclops had to offer.

Gambit stroked Cyclops on the cheek, and started to move closer to kiss the man. Cyclops hesitated. While Gambit waited for his charm power to erode Cyclops' inhibition, he reveled in the warmth of Scott's breath. It was passion ragged, and it enveloped Remy with every exhalation. Damn, he could lie there forever, just inches from this other man, letting his warmth wash over him and feed him.

The charm power did its work, and Cyclops eliminated the slight space between him and Gambit. When their lips met, there were no fears, no hesitations. Just passion.

The kiss started off soft. It was the kiss of two lovers coming together for the first time. It was full of gentleness, but promised increasing passion. It was so tender, their lips barely touching as they each savored the moment, not wanting to rush what seemed to be a perfect moment.

Gambit was hungry for heat, and though this kiss was something he could swim in forever, it was only pushing him to want more. His mouth traveled along Scott's jaw, and down his neck. He moved to have Scott's body under his and entwined his hand in one of his new lover's.

Scott shuddered as Gambit's mouth found one of his nipples and teased it with his tongue. Remy smiled that sly smile as he felt Scott's body trembling to control the sensation. He was tempted to release a tiny burst of kinetic energy from his tongue into Scott's sensitive flesh, but knew his new lover was too inexperienced to withstand the intensely erotic sensation just yet.

Remy looked up at Scott, and was surprised to find him looking at him. The desire on his face was intense. It made Gambit wish that Cyclops was not forced to wear that damned eyewear to shield the world from his devastating eyes. He wanted so much to look into those eyes. He briefly wondered what color they could be. If not for the protective ruby quartz lenses, Remy would have been swept away by the depth and strength of Scott's desire.

Suddenly the man beneath him made a bold move for an inexperienced lover. Scott moved so swiftly. Gambit was not exactly sure how he ended up on his back beside Cyclops, but all he was thinking about was the lip-crushing kiss that was covering his mouth, and how the passion was making his head swim.

Cyclops freed Remy's mouth, and Gambit gasped aloud. It was now Cyclops trailing kisses down the chest of his newfound lover. Each kiss was like fire, and the fire grew with greater intensity the lower his lips traveled.

His chin felt the fine hair just below Remy's navel. He looked up, as if looking for some sort of certainty from Gambit. Remy looked at him through eyes half-closed in passion. He knew what his lover wanted and he granted it to him. "Go lower, mon ami," his Cajun intonation punctuated with ragged breath as he whispered.

A nervous smile flashed across Scott's soft lips, but disappeared when he returned to what he had been doing. His mouth found Gambit's penis and he softly kissed the hard flesh. He had felt his own manhood, but never had his mouth ever touched a man before, and Gambit could feel the man's heart pounding against where Scott's chest was pressed into his legs. Gambit reached down and put his hand on Scott's shoulder. He let the charm power ebb into the man to reassure him.

Scott suddenly felt so at ease, and he took Gambit's rigid manhood into his mouth. He took a deep breath of courage and began sucking gently on the head. Gambit sucked in a breath between his teeth, and muttered a curse word in his native Cajun French.

As Scott continued to suck and lick on Remy's hard manhood, Gambit struggled to fight the urge to buck his hips. It felt so damned good having this warm mouth wrapped around his penis. He couldn't remember the last time it felt so good. Those $20 whores never put any effort into the job. He knew how they thought. As long as he got off, and they got their money, they were both happy, so who needed finesse?

Gambit was close to exploding, so he pulled away from Cyclops' mouth. "Dat was so good, mon ami. But Remy, he ain't de greedy type, homme. It your turn now, sug," he whispered hoarsely.

He lay Scott down and stretched out beside him. He took Cyclops into his mouth and began showing him just what an experienced lover could be like. He skillfully sucked and kissed Cyclops' hardened member. A drop of pre-cum flavored his dick for Gambit as he licked it.

After some length of time, Remy stopped going down on Scott. "You ready, chere?" Gambit knelt on the bed looking down at his lover with the tenderest eyes. When Scott nodded slowly, Gambit reached for the other man and positioned him on his knees and directed him to lean forward on his forearms. "Dis goin' hurt some. You relax an' trust Remy, you like it soon enough. Trust me, homme. You trust ol' Gambit?"

Scott chewed his bottom lip nervously, but nodded. He felt Remy's hands caressing his buttocks. Each pass of his hands came closer to his anus, and his heart raced. Finally, he felt Remy's finger stroking his hole, and he fought the urge to clench his muscles when he felt a finger slide into him. It felt so strange, but he didn't fight it. It didn't really hurt until Remy had stretched him with another finger or two.

Remy slid his fingers in and out of Scott to get him used to the sensation. He was Scott's first male lover, and he was trying so hard to make this experience good for the man. He didn't want to hurt him.

Scott analyzed the sensation. It felt so foreign, being stretched there like this. Suddenly, it hurt more than before and he glanced back to see Gambit's hips pressed against his buttocks. He was deep inside Cyclops now.

Both froze there like that. Gambit was afraid to move while he waited for Scott to get used to having his penis up his rectum. Scott marveled at the expression on Gambit's face as he struggled to control the desire urging him to fuck the hell out of this man he was plunged in.

"It's okay now," Scott whispered. "Do it."

Slowly, Gambit pulled out some and pushed back in. Oh, it felt so good. Scott's ass was so tight. It was all that he had to keep from ravishing the man, but he promised he would be gentle. He didn't want to hurt him on his virgin experience. He tilted his face toward the ceiling and concentrated on the sensation of his dick slowly gliding in and out of his lover.

Scott just knelt there, almost afraid to move. Once he got used to Gambit's slow and easy rhythm, be slowly began to move to match it. "Merde," Gambit hissed between gasps as Scott moved against him. "Fuck, dat feel damn good, sug."

Gambit reached around and stroked Scott's penis and kissed him tenderly on the back. "Get ready, homme. Remy goin' to explode," he whispered against the flesh of Scott's back. When Scott's muscles clenched some in anticipation, Gambit cursed again in his Cajun French and he shot his cum deep into Cyclops' ass.

He pulled his still twitching penis out of the man and collapsed onto his back. Kissing him on the back and neck, he murmured, "Dat so sweet, chere. Hope Gambit ain't been too rough on you, homme. Dat just so damn good."

Scott rolled over to look at his lover, and shook his head. "No, I liked it." He pulled the man to him and kissed him hard. He looked him in his exotic eyes and asked, "What does it feel like? Being in another man's ass like that? Does it feel the same as having sex with a woman?"

Gambit chuckled softly at Cyclops' innocence. "Non, homme. It don' feel de same at all. A man's ass tight tight compared to a woman's pussy." A playful gleam danced across the red fire of his eyes. "If Cyclops want to try, Remy more dan willin' to let him."

Cyclops nodded. Gambit quickly went down on his hands and knees and looked to Scott. "Just do like Remy did. You do just fine, chere. You trust me, non?"

Scott positioned himself behind Gambit. He imitated the way he had stroked his ass before stretching him with his fingers, and made his hands do the same to Gambit. As he ran his hands over Gambit's flesh, he heard what he compared to a cat's purr emanated from the Cajun man's throat, and it built his confidence.

He took a deep breath and guided his penis into Gambit's rectum. Both gasped with pleasure simultaneously. Scott took Gambit by the hips and began thrusting gently into the man.

When Gambit arched his back, pushing Cyclops deeper into him, it was more than Scott could take. His thrusting became more excited as he began to lose control. Gambit was forced off his arms when Scott pulled him up to him as he plunged even deeper into the Cajun. Gambit's wrapped his arms around Scott as best he could and rested his back against Cyclops' chest. Scott's grip on him was almost painful as he kept thrusting up into Gambit, but it felt too good to notice any pain.

With a mighty groan, Scott exploded deep inside Gambit. They stayed joined like that, Scott supporting Gambit on his lap. Their breathing was rapid and their bodies sweaty. It was hard to tell where one man ended and the other began.

After some length of time, Scott let go of Gambit. He slid of Cyclops's softening erection and lay down on the bed. Scott snuggled up next to him and wrapped his arms around him. Entwined like this, the two lovers fell asleep in Gambit's warm bed.

***

Gambit woke up cold. He was curled up in a tight ball on top of his bed with the covers beneath him. He was all alone, and he was so cold. As he sat up and looked around his empty room, he noticed his wide-open window.

As he crossed the room to close the window, he sighed. The passion, the touching, the warmth. It was all a damned dream. He should be used to that by now, he thought to himself as he returned to his bed. That was all he ever had lately.

***

In another room in the mansion, Scott Summers was awake. He didn't know why, and it bothered him to no end. Suddenly, a chill washed over him, and he pulled his blankets close about him to fend off this unnatural cold.

***

Gambit woke and looked at the clock. It was well past the time he was supposed to be up. As reluctant as a child dreading a day at school, Gambit forced himself out from beneath his velvet covers. A quick shower did little to wake him, but he dressed himself in his familiar body armor deftly and headed down the stairs.

He was just preparing to push the door to the kitchen open when he heard voices. The others were still lingering over their breakfasts. He had hoped the kitchen would be his alone so he could eat in silence. Not being a child of the dawn, he hated constant chatter when his brain was still partially asleep.

Grumbling something in his Cajun French about hating early mornings, he pushed the door open and deposited himself at the table. He sat there a moment looking at the others. They were all talking amongst themselves or reading the morning paper. If not for the noise they made, it would have been like he sat there alone.

Gambit didn't mind being ignored. He wasn't fond of responding to the cheerful "Good mornings" of his teammates. He felt that one "good morning" should be plenty enough. But no. He usually had to respond to each and everyone who dared say "good morning" to him and felt strangely obligated to sound cheerful about it.

He smiled to himself and poured himself some coffee from the carafe in front of him. He looked down at the dark surface of the steaming coffee as it slowly danced in his cup. Damn, he hated black coffee. He wished someone else there besides himself knew how to make a decent pot of coffee. He wasn't allowed near the coffeepot. The others, they all hated what a Cajun called coffee. Bobby always joked that maybe Cajuns could drink coffee without milk and sugar if they didn't make that chicory brew as thick as bayou mud.

Gambit rubbed some sleep from his eyes and reached for the pitcher of milk across from him. At that same moment, Cyclops had reached for the same pitcher. When their hands brushed each other, Scott pulled away like he had touched something on fire.

Gambit looked up to see a startled expression flash across the other man's face. His eyes narrowed as he smiled. "Mon ami, you have de same taste as Gambit, non?"

Scott stammered nervously, "What?"

Gambit chuckled. "De milk. Cyclops take milk in his coffee like Gambit."

He smiled weakly. "I thought we were going to knock it over, us both reaching for it like that. I wasn't paying attention."

Gambit waved his hand nonchalantly. "You take it first, homme. Now no one say Gambit never de gentleman, non?"

Gambit watched as Scott took up the pitcher. No one but him noticed as Scott's hand slightly trembled as he poured the milk into his cup. Ah, so he had succeeded in shaking the man up a bit.

Gambit poured a generous amount of milk into his own coffee and spooned several mounds of sugar into the mug. He sat there quietly watching Cyclops as he leisurely stirred his drink. He could tell by the way that Scott moved his head that he was stealing glances in the Cajun's direction. Gambit smiled cleverly into his cup as he took a sip. His eyes never once strayed from his teammate.

Once his cup was drained, Gambit decided to vacate the kitchen. Despite the fun he was having making Cyclops squirm under his gaze, he had other things to do. Being a hero might come natural to someone like himself, but it did call for a lot of training. It was the same when he was thief. Damn, he needed to find an easier way to make a living.

***

Scott had walked into the exercise room not at all expecting it to be empty. The gasp of surprise he exhaled was for the one man he had prayed that would not be there but was. Gambit was stretched out doing bench presses on one of the exercise machines. Of all the days for that man to actually do his workouts like he was supposed to.

Scott stood in the doorway watching the Cajun. He was stripped to the waist and sweaty from strenuous exercise. He could hear the strains of some Zydeco music faintly coming from the headphones covering Gambit's ears. He was singing along to the song playing in his ears, and Scott couldn't help but smile as he watched. Gambit's eyes were closed as he got into the music and was carried away by the lively tune. He wasn't the best singer, but he didn't care. He was a man of so few inhibitions.

When his rendition of "Papa Thibodeaux" was complete, he called out, "You just goin' to stand dere an' watch me, mon ami, or what? Gambit, he could use someone to spot him."

Scott stared. If this had been Wolverine, he wouldn't have been surprised. Gambit's eyes were still closed and the music too loud to have allowed the Cajun to have heard the door.

As if reading his stunned leader's mind, Gambit answered his unspoken question. "Gambit's spatial awareness. Gambit know you in de room wit'out ever openin' my eyes, chere." He looked over at Cyclops and smiled. "Gambit feel de room change when you come in, mon ami."

Cyclops came further into the room. "Ah yes. Spatial awareness. I forgot that was one of your mutant gifts. I was wondering how you knew. It isn't like you are a psy."

Gambit's sort of shrugged. "Don' know if dat a mutant gift or de talent of bein' a world class t'ief." His smile shifted to one so dangerous and cunning. "An' it ain't like you know Gambit so well, non? How you know he ain't some kind of psy, homme?"

Scott's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the Cajun. "There is a lot we don't know about you. For someone as vain as you are, you sure don't talk about yourself that much. At least not about your past or your power. No telling how you think or what you are capable of."

Remy kept pressing the weights as he talked. "An dat de way Gambit like it. Remy LeBeau. International man of mystery."

Scott groaned in disgust. "Are you always this arrogant?"

Remy laughed. "Non, homme. Gambit sleep some of de day. Help me wit' dis here weight, chere."

Scott reached to help Gambit with the heavy weights. "I bet even then you dream about yourself."

Gambit looked up at Scott. "Non. Dere some ot'er t'ings Gambit dream about at night. What about you, chere? What do Scott Summers dream about when he close his eyes at night, hein?"

For some reason, Scott didn't like the tone in Gambit's voice. It almost had a sleazy quality, like the Cajun knew some kind of secret. He didn't answer.

Gambit smiled. He had Scott off guard now. He began letting some charm power trickle forth.

After Scott helped put the weight bar in its place, he offered his hand to help Gambit up. The second he extended his hand, he regretted it. The Cajun firmly took him by the hand and pulled himself up off the bench. The two came face to face with the merest of inches between them.

Scott almost felt sleepy. It was an effect of the charm power. Cyclops didn't notice the way Gambit affectionately stroked his hand with one of his slim fingers as he continued to hold onto him. He didn't notice how Gambit leaned his face closer to his. He didn't even notice how he too moved to fill the small gap between them.

Gambit suddenly let go of Scott's hand and cut off the charm power. As if suddenly coming out of a trance, Scott's body jolted. His eyes went wide as he stared at the Cajun so close to him. His mind raced as he tried to recall just how he got like that, almost poised to kiss each other.

Gambit's smoky smooth voice whispered, "T'ank you, mon ami." Then he simply walked away. He left Scott there alone. He didn't have to look back to know Scott slowly eased himself down onto the bench and dropped his head into his hands. Gambit smiled.

The rest of the day became unbearable. No matter where Scott went, Gambit was already there. It was almost as if he was following the Cajun. Every time he walked into a room and found the master thief already occupying it, Gambit would look up at him and smile at him like he was playing some kind of game.

Dinnertime offered no escape. Gambit had sat himself right next to him. All during the meal, he would accidentally brush Scott's leg with his own, and would smile devilishly at each contact. Wolverine had commented on how quiet the two were being during the meal. Storm guessed that the two must have had a disagreement over something. It wasn't too far of a stretch. It was no secret that the Cajun was never his favorite person, and they frequently were at odds over various things. He just wished Wolverine would quit staring at him and Gambit like he was trying to figure out some sort of mystery.

After dinner, Scott retired to the television room. He was thankful that a certain Cajun was not there when he entered the room. He deposited himself on the couch and though he stared at the television, did not truly watch the program flickering across the screen. His mind was too preoccupied with Gambit.

As if on cue, Gambit entered the television room. He quietly entered and took the place on the couch beside his favorite victim. He never said a word. With just a casual glance at Scott, he merely stretched out with his feet on the coffee table and began getting interested in the television program.

Scott relaxed. Apparently whatever game Gambit was playing with him was over. He smiled, relieved that the cat and mouse game seemed to be over, at least for now. Scott craned his neck to stretch it and break up the knot that had built up there from being tensed up all day. The muscle relaxed almost instantly. Oh, it felt so good now.

Scott's eyes were just beginning to close now, he was just so relaxed. But something in the back of his mind was nagging him that something just wasn't right. He tried to ignore the feeling, but it wouldn't go away. He rolled his head back, as if to shake the nagging feeling lose, but felt something at the back of his neck.

He stiffened. He sat there frozen for a moment as he realized Gambit was lightly massaging the nape of his neck. Those slim fingers were gently and expertly working on the tense knot at the base of his neck. He hardly felt the man's skilled hand. He looked over at Gambit. The Cajun looked at him, briefly holding him in his gaze before breaking away to return to watching the program.

He was so damned casual. Like he did this sort of thing all the time. How could he be so nonchalant about touching another man like that? But Scott didn't move away. He sat there and let the man's hand work magic on his tensed muscles. For some reason, he didn't move. He didn't know why, and it frightened him.

"Well, mes amis," Gambit stood and stretched as he spoke to his teammates relaxing in the room. He looked at Scott briefly. "Remy had enough of dis here cops an' robber show we watchin'. Gambit goin' to bed."

He reached down and rumpled Jubilee's hair as he passed her. When she squealed in displeasure, Gambit expertly sidestepped a wild swing she made at him with a pillow. "Oh, chere. Don' you know dat you gots to do better dan dat to get de best of de Cajun?"

She moved like she was going to "pahf" him with a gentle spark of her fireworks, but the Cajun was long gone. "Gawd! He can be so annoying! Some times, he makes even Iceman seem mature!"

Wolverine laughed. "He only does it because he knows it gets to you, darlin'." He looked directly at Scott. "If you don't act like it bugs you, he'll leave you alone."

Scott knew Wolverine was talking to him, not Jubilee. He glanced away and began staring at his hands. He knew the Canadian was right, but he didn't know if he was strong enough to not let Gambit get to him.

Without saying a word to the others, he got up and left. He didn't want to be in there anymore. Even though only Wolverine seemed aware of the game Gambit was playing with Cyclops, he felt like the others were all aware, and he just couldn't face them.

Quietly, he made his way back to his room. It wasn't really his room. It was one of the many guestrooms in the mansion. His own room was in the boathouse down by the lake. This had temporarily became his room when his beautiful wife Jean Grey had departed with the professor to go to Muir Island for research they were working on. She was going to be gone for a few weeks, so he had decided to stay up at the manor. He wanted to be closer to the team if something went wrong, and without his telepath wife to alert him of anything happening at the mansion, their boathouse was just too far away.

He passed the door to the Cajun's room. He paused a moment and looked at the door. As he continued on down the long hallway, he had begun to regret his decision to come back to the mansion.

***

Gambit was stretched out on his bed. He had his hands behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling. A smug, self-satisfied expression danced in his eyes as he chuckled to himself. Oh, this was working so well. Cyclops was so receptive to his touch when they were watching the television. He hardly had to use any charm power at all. Maybe tonight would be a good night to make his move.

He moved through the air vent as silently as the air that flowed down the long narrow metal passageway. He was sure if he could have stood up in that space, he would have run to Scott's room. He felt like a child heading down the hall on Christmas morning to discover what great prize Santa Claus had left for him. It was all he could do to keep from giggling.

Gambit was there at last. He eagerly peered through the metal grate covering the air vent. He was not at all happy at what he saw in the room below. Scott Summers lay in his bed, his arms entwined around his beautiful wife.

"Where de hell she come from," he hissed to himself. "Dat woman, she suppose to be gone. She suppose to be all de way across de ocean from him. How dare she come back now an' ruin Gambit's plan!" He looked down to see that in his anger he had inattentively begun charging the metal beneath his hands with kinetic energy. With a muttered swear word, he skillfully reabsorbed the energy he had inadvertently channeled into the air duct.

Instead of returning to his room in defeat, he stayed there in his hiding place. He watched them sleep for the longest time. He wasn't concerned that Cyclops' wife would ascertain his presence. It would have to take a more skilled psy-talent than Jean Grey to detect the likes of Remy LeBeau.

After several hours, he left. He couldn't stand looking at them. He had worked long and hard on this plan of his. He had gone too far with it to have her ruin it now. Damn her. It was going to be a long and sleepless night now because of her.

***

The next morning, when he walked into the kitchen and saw Jean Grey sipping her tea at the table, he didn't seem as surprised to see her as he should have. "What you doin' here, chere?" He almost sounded accusing.

She smiled brightly at her teammate, unaware of the plans she had inadvertently ruined. "The Professor decided I needed a break from our research. He and Moira both insisted I take a couple days off, so I decided to come home for a day or two."

"Oh," was all Gambit replied as he poured himself some coffee.

Jean Grey watched him as he stirred his milk and sugar into his coffee. He seemed so tense, so angry. She shivered for reasons unknown to her.

He took a sip of the coffee in his cup and made an unpleasant face. He was up from the table and at the sink in two long, easy strides. He angrily dumped the hot beverage down the drain. "Don' no one here know how to make a decent coffee? Ain't had a decent cup de whole time Gambit been in dis here house. T'ink I go into de city. Bet dere I can find a Cajun joint dat make deir coffee de way we drink it down in N'Awlins. Y'all should come wit' Gambit. Den maybe you learn a t'ing or two about good coffee."

Angrily, he stormed out of the kitchen. Everyone stared at the door swinging violently back and forth on its hinges. Jean looked to her husband. "What was that all about?"

Scott just stared at her, almost afraid she was going to look into his mind to find the answer. Thankfully, Wolverine spoke up and saved him. "He's been moody like that for a while, darlin'. Don't know what he's so pissed about. Maybe it's Rogue being gone or something."

Jean shivered. "He's so angry."

Wolverine put an uncommonly gentle hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it, darlin'. Whatever is eating the kid, he'll get it out of him some way or another. He always does." He looked directly at Scott.

***

Gambit returned home late that night. He didn't speak to anyone he passed as he raged through the house. No one dared speak to him. He was a self-contained hurricane, and no one wanted to be the one that set him off.

He went to watch television, but the loving couple had taken up residence on the couch. The last thing he wanted was to hang around the very two people that had him in such a foul mood, so he retreated to his bedroom.

Gambit was heading up the stairs when he bumped into Wolverine. Wolverine cornered him up against the wall. "Did you find your good cup of mud you went hunting?"

Gambit shook his head. "Non. Just got on de bike an' drove around for de night. Gambit just needed to get out of dis damn house for awhile."

Wolverine glared at him. "Look, bub. I don't know what you are up to, but I don't have to be a psychic to know something is bugging you. Now spill it."

Gambit wouldn't look at him. "Just got some problems to work out, dat's all. Gambit sorry he been actin' crazier den a cricket in a hubcap, mon ami. Gambit ain't up to nothin'."

Wolverine didn't believe him. "Save it, bub." He grabbed Gambit by the wrist and dragged him up into the Cajun's room. Once behind the closed door, he continued. "What are you trying to pull with Cyke?"

Gambit laughed morbidly as he waved his hand nonchalantly. "Oh, dat. Dat just a game Gambit playin'. Just tryin' to shake our fearless leader up a bit."

Wolverine's brow furrowed. "So you ain't trying to seduce the man?"

Gambit laughed. "Just messing with Cyclops. He so perfect an' in control of every'tin'. Just havin' fun messin' wit' him. Gambit just havin' some fun."

Wolverine leaned against the door. "What are you doing? Using your charm power on him?"

Gambit nodded. Wolverine's eyes narrowed as he regarded the strength of the Cajun's powers. "Just how powerful is it? You know I got the best sense of smell around, and I can't smell that charm power of yours. How does it work? It ain't pheromones."

Gambit shrugged his shoulders. "Don' know what it is, mon ami. Gambit just use it."

"Let me get this straight, bub. You have a power you know nothing about?" Wolverine growled in disbelief. "You don't know what causes it." Remy shook his head. "Do you know your limits? How powerful it is?" Again, the Cajun merely shrugged. "Bub, ain't that just a little dangerous? How can you control the damned power if you don't know anything at all?" He couldn't believe how nonchalant the Cajun was.

Remy's expression became serious as he looked up at the grizzled warrior leaning against his door. "Look, mon ami. Gambit ain't ever tested dis power to know how strong it be. An' maybe Gambit don' know if it come from a mind power or if it a chemical t'ing. But dat don' mean Gambit can' control de power. Gambit make people do what he want, an' dat all Remy care about, chere."

Wolverine just chuckled. He had laughed at Gambit like some kid just told his parent that they were big and tough and weren't afraid of them or anything else. He laughed like he didn't believe a word that Gambit had said. And it made the Cajun mad.

Gambit's eyes narrowed as they glowed with anger. He crossed the room with such long easy strides, it looked more like he flowed like water across the room to face Wolverine. "So you doubt the word of Remy LeBeau?" He threw his arms wide and clenched his eyes shut. His head rolled forward, as if he was relaxed in a trance. The rigidness of every muscle in his wiry body showed that this man was anything but relaxed.

Wolverine took a step back, but the door blocked him. He blinked as he stared at the Cajun. The drowsiness hit him all at once like a warm summer wind. It felt like a gentle hand caressing him, touching him all over. Every muscle in his compact body seemed to be responding to a will not entirely his own.

Finally, the Cajun fixed his gaze on Wolverine. He easily closed the distance between them, and Wolverine reached for him with a shaky hand. It wasn't to strike Gambit away from him like he told his hand to do. Instead, he stroked the stubble-covered cheek of the Cajun.

When Gambit took Wolverine by the hand and led him closer to the bed, the brawny Canadian meekly followed. There were no protests when Gambit pulled Wolverine down to him and covered himself with the man. No angry words when Gambit kissed him with a passion unlike any Wolverine had ever experienced.

It was a hard kiss. It was almost brutal. Gambit seized Wolverine's mouth with his own, and Wolverine eagerly surrendered. He savored the way the young Cajun's tongue caressed his lips and tongue like it was something he had waited for a long time to happen.

The touch of Gambit's hands set his flesh on fire. Despite a part of his brain screaming at him that this somehow wasn't right, not what he truly desired, Wolverine greedily wanted more of the young man.

Wolverine sat up and straddled the Cajun. As he feverishly rushed to unbuckle his jeans, he glanced down at Gambit sprawled out beneath him. His beautiful lips were pulled back in a bizarre smile as he held Wolverine with his intense gaze.

Without warning, Gambit withdrew all the charm power, and the result was painful on Wolverine's brain. As he reared back to clutch his throbbing head, Gambit violently kicked the man off of him. Wolverine hit the ground hard and slid across the floor. His body slammed into the door with a painful thud.

As he stumbled to pull himself to his feet, Gambit growled at Wolverine, "Dat teach you to doubt what control Gambit gots over dis here charm power. Now get de hell out of Gambit's room."

Wolverine glared at the Cajun, ignoring the eerie red glow of the young man's eyes. "Don't you dare think that I'll forget this, kid."

Remy just returned the hard glare until the Canadian left his room. He knew Wolverine was right. The Canadian wasn't going to let Gambit get away with using him and humiliating him like that. Paybacks would be a bitch, but he was smart enough to stay well clear of the dangerous Wolverine until the man had time to cool off some.

***

For the next three days, he pretty much stayed to his room. For the next two nights, Gambit would hide himself in the air vent. He watched Jean Grey and Cyclops like this. He watched everything they did. When they sat quietly reading, he saw every page turn. If they talked, he heard every word. If they argued, Gambit smiled. Hidden away like this, he missed nothing.

He even watched them make love once. While he watched Scott's cock slide in and out of his beautiful wife, Gambit's eyes were narrowed into jealous slits. He found it hard to keep himself from blowing the vent cover clean off while he listened to Jean Grey's soft moan of pleasure. He had stroked himself off while he listened to Scott's deep groan as he released his sperm into his wife. Damn, he was so jealous.

He was starting to crawl away from the vent opening when he heard something coming from the room that stopped him. He peered between the metal slats at the couple snuggling together after just having made love. Soft smiles were on their lips.

Scott was humming a song Gambit knew so well. Jean smiled and looked up at her husband. "What song is that?"

Scott stopped smiling and shrugged his broad shoulders. "I don't know the name of it. It's something Gambit was listening to. Guess it just stuck in my head." He smiled and softly kissed his wife.

Gambit almost laughed out loud. Quickly and silently, he made his course away from their room. As he casually strolled down the hall to his own room, he smiled. Scott knew the melody too well to have heard the song only once. He wondered how Scott could have learned that song, and began humming 'Papa Thibodeaux' to himself as he did a little Cajun two-step dancing with himself down the hall.

***

Gambit spent all of the next day alone in his darkened room. He lay in his bed sprawled out on his stomach, tangled in the bedding as he tried to spend the day catching up on sleep lost in his nocturnal spying. Once or twice, someone came and knocked on his door during the day and called out to him. He would barely peek at the door out from under the arm splayed across his face to protect his light sensitive eyes from the day. Their knocks went unanswered.

Gambit finally sat up and looked at the clock on the wall. Time to go spy on his apple pie perfect couple. He thought of Scott humming that Zydeco tune after making love to Jean and he smiled. If Gambit was lucky, he just might get another treat like that one tonight.

Quickly, Gambit dressed. He opened the door and peeked out into the hall. It was empty and he smiled to himself. So far so good. He moved casual enough down the hall. Casual, that is, to the untrained eye. Any person skilled at spotting a master thief would have noticed the subtle nuances like the way he frequently glanced around. The abnormal interest in a common painting on the wall or plant on a table. Things that made it seem like he a purpose for lingering in the hall.

But no one was there to notice these things. Even if there had been someone, they would have dismissed it without any suspicion. That was how Gambit always acted. That was how a master thief always behaved. Sometimes, he thought they were fools to trust him and take his nature for granted.

He glanced from side to side cautiously. Still no one. Deftly, he removed the vent and gracefully climbed into the narrow ventilation duct. Without a single sound, the vent cover was put back into place before anyone could notice something amiss in the hall. If someone had been standing there watching him, and happened to blink, they would have missed his entire disappearing act. It would have seemed like he had mysteriously faded into thin air. He was just that good.

Anyone else but him wouldn't have been able to pull this off. Only he had the skill to make his way through the air vent without making noise to alert the others to his whereabouts in the ceiling and walls. Any sound he made was so slight, it would have been dismissed as the common sounds of an old house settling late at night.

He didn't have to concentrate on it at all. He was like a master painter. The skill just came naturally to him like a rare gift, and had been fine-tuned with extensive training. It was almost like an art form to him, and Gambit was far beyond being a master craftsman.

Finally he found himself in a place he had grown so familiar with over the past few nights. If he closed his eyes, Gambit could describe in minute part every detail of that dark and narrow metal corridor. He knew exactly where there were sharp places in the metal. He knew precisely where the time-loosened screws were that threatened to catch his clothing if he wasn't careful. He didn't even have to stop and think to avoid these minor perils. His knowledge of the air vent was as subconscious as breathing.

Gambit took one deep breath before peering out the vent into the room. He did this every time he started to spy on them. He didn't know if it was to ready himself for whatever he may see in the room below or if it was because he would go so long with just the shallowest of breathing. Whatever the reason, he did it. It was all part of the ritual.

Gambit looked down into the room and gasped in a surprised breath. He lightly punched the air vent and cussed. He didn't have to be deathly silent. Below him was an empty room. It was cold and silent, the bed neatly made. No one had been in there for a while.

"Damn it," Remy grumbled as he made his way back through the air vent. "De happy couple done must have went out for de evenin'. Damn it! Gambit should have went down to dinner wit' de ot'ers. Den maybe he would know deir plans for t'night."

He continued to grumble to himself as he checked to make sure the hall was clear. He climbed out of the ventilation duct, and before returning the vent cover to its proper place, he pulled something like a small atomizer out of one of his many pockets. A couple of quick squirts, and the inside of the air vent now had a light layer of common house dust. No one would ever suspect that someone had been creeping around in there like a ghost now.

Gambit returned to his own room in miserable defeat. Like some spoiled child denied permission to go to a party, he sulked about his room. Piles of laundry were punished for being in his way by being kicked around. Dresser drawers were opened and slammed after Remy rifled through their contents looking for some object of distraction.

In defeat, Gambit unceremoniously dropped himself onto his bed and reached for the remote to his impressive stereo system. In an instant, Zydeco music was vibrating the walls of his room, and the neighboring rooms, more than likely. Despite this ear-numbing volume, Gambit barely heard it as he obsessed over the empty room he just left behind.

Damn, he was frustrated. He had been all ready to spend the better part of the night watching Scott Summers. Instead, he was forced to lie there and stare at his cursed ceiling. Damn, how he hated this. It wasn't part of the plan. It wasn't supposed to be this way at all.

Boredom got the best of him. As Gambit lay there sulking, he plucked tiny fuzz balls from the bedding. Each one he would charge with kinetic energy. The lint balls were so tiny, they barely generated any explosion at all. But when each one popped out of existence, a slight, amused smile twitched across his lips. Damn, he was bored.

Gambit had almost drifted off to sleep when something jolted him wide awake. Blaring from his stereo was that song Cyclops had been humming. With 'Papa Thibodeaux' vibrating the very bones in his body, Gambit dressed. It was going to take a few good sessions in the Danger Room to get this frustration out of him now.

Gambit grumbled a constant string of curse words and complaints as he made his way from his room to the Danger Room. It was bad enough Scott wasn't there for him to watch, but that song pushed him far past the edge of frustration. So he took it out on anyone he passed in the hall. If Gambit wasn't going to have any fun that night, he wasn't going to be the only one suffering.

Gambit punched at the buttons at the keyboard to open the door to the Danger Room. It took a couple of attempts for him to get the access code right. As the door silently slid open, he cursed at his anger and frustration had made him clumsy at the code keyboard.

With long strides exaggerated by fury, Gambit strode into the room like a hurricane raging in violently from the Gulf. An explosion startled him, snapping out of his self-centered world of bitterness and disappointment. He looked up with barely enough time to dodge a robot that was smoking and sparking at its metallic seams that was flying right at him.

"Merde!" Gambit blasted coarsely, as he did a back flip out of the way of the damaged robot. As he hit the ground, he looked up and scanned the room, trying to get a grasp on the situation. "Gambit did not know de room was in use. Sorry about de..." His sentence trailed off as he saw Cyclops standing near him, poised like he was prepared to attack him.

It took Scott a brief second to realize that this was indeed the real Gambit, and not part of the simulated dangers he was attacking. He immediately reached out to help the surprised man to his feet. "Sorry about that, Gambit. For a second, I thought you were another hologram." Gambit pulled himself up to his feet with Scott's assistance. "The professor did add holograms of us to randomly appear in the simulations to see how we would react in the frenzy of battle or if one of us suddenly became the enemy."

Gambit nodded numbly. "Yeah. De professor, he want to know if we gots it in us to kill some one who we once call a friend. Or for de likes of Wolverine, if dey gonna lose it in battle an' start tearin' de head off anyt'ing dat move, even one of us." He smiled weakly. "Glad you knew de difference between me an' a hologram, homme!"

Scott's forehead was wrinkled with concern. "You didn't get hurt, did you? It all happened so fast. I didn't even see you come in."

Gambit waived his hand nonchalantly. "Non. No harm done, homme. Gambit, he like a cat. You blew dat robot away but good! What de hell gots you all fired up, chere? Gambit, he figure you be tucked away somewhere wit' dat wife you gots."

Scott leaned against the wall and looked down at his toes. "Jean went back to Scotland this morning. She had gone to your room to say goodbye, but I guess you were out. She told me to tell you she said goodbye."

Gambit nodded. He ran his hand through his long auburn hair and surveyed the room. It was scattered with debris from Cyclops' training session. He exhaled a whistle of astonishment. "Saloperie! Dis one hell of a mess. You blew de place up but good, chere." He looked up at Cyclops and flashed a brilliant smile at him. "You got somet'ing buggin' you?"

Cyclops looked up at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words never came out. He looked at Gambit, and the way Gambit was smiling at him. All he could do was stare at the man for a moment.

When Scott turned away, Gambit reached up and gently cupped Scott by the chin and turned his face to look at him. "What de matter, Cyke? Come on. You tell ol' Gambit." He smiled at him, but Scott couldn't tell if it was a genuine smile or one more sly.

He looked at those devil-colored eyes, and swallowed hard. His heart was racing as he made another attempt to speak that fell short. Instead, he closed his eyes, sucked in a breath of courage, and seized Gambit in a hesitant kiss.

Their lips parted after that briefest of kisses. Their faces remained close, Gambit stoking Scott's cheek tenderly with his lower lip. Cyclops' breath was soft and warm against his ear.

They lingered like that for a moment before Gambit moved to look at Scott. Damn that ruby quartz visor. He wanted to see the man's eyes. If he looked close enough, he could partially make out their outline behind their blood red shielding.

Gambit kissed him again. It was a soft, almost hesitant kiss. One that was tender, almost exploratory in how he gently sought out what Scott wanted.

He trailed kisses down Scott's face to his neck. "You sure you want this, chere?" Gambit's voice was a smoky whisper at the soft hollow of Scott's throat. The man didn't respond. Gambit caressed Scott gently. "Gambit won' do dis if you don' want him to, chere. It all up to you, mon ami."

Cyclops was silent for a moment. His head was swimming. He didn't know what he wanted. It was so warm in there, and it made it so hard to think clearly. Finally, he stammered out his answer. "I... I have never done anything like this before. I don't know what I should do."

Gambit smiled so gently. "You trust Gambit an' follow his lead. Gambit stop any time you say to." He stroked his teammate's face so tenderly.

They stood there touching and caressing each other for the longest time. It was as if they were silently getting familiar with each other. Like they were learning to appreciate the other's nicely shaped body and features. It was so perfect. Nice and slow and gentle.

Scott felt like he was in some surreal dream as he stood there watching Gambit slowly slide down to his knees in front of him. Gambit looked up at him almost like a fervent worshiper looked at a golden idol. Scott shivered from the weight of the intense stare. He tried to think and remember when the bottom part of his uniform had been pulled down, but he could not recall just how it happened. He couldn't think at all. His heart was pounding and his head swimming. He felt numb, like he was intoxicated. He was, in a way. He was drunk off the Cajun.

He pressed himself into the wall when Gambit's warm mouth closed around the head of his penis. His head rolled back as his hands entwined in the rusty tangles of Gambit's long wild hair. That untamed hair was so soft. Like silk or one of Storm's warm breezes. It was almost like stroking the air itself. He clenched his eyes shut as the pleasure washed over him as turbulent as a wave from the ocean pushed by a far off storm.

Gambit concentrated on pleasing Scott. He had forgotten his plans on toying with Scott. He forgot all about bringing this man that he was well aware disliked him down a peg. No more shaking him up. Instead, he wanted him to feel a pleasure far beyond anything that Cyclops had ever known. There was a part of Gambit's brain that wanted this man, if even just for this wild moment, to love him. Not just like him, but to love him. That was, after all, what Gambit really wanted. He wanted to be liked, to be loved. He knew neither of those words normally applied to him where Scott was concerned. He wanted so desperately to change all that, if even for a few insane minutes.

Scott pushed Gambit away from him, but not in rejection. He slid to the floor and seized the Cajun in a passionate kiss that left both men breathless. He could taste himself on Gambit's tongue, and his pulse quickened.

They became a tangle of arms and legs feverishly stripping themselves of their garments as they barely broke their lengthy kisses. The clothes were tossed aside in messy forgotten piles. Those clothes no longer mattered. They had been mere barriers that no longer stood in the way.

Gambit reached for Scott and pulled him to himself as he leaned back to the ground. Scott eagerly followed him. He draped himself on the man and kissed him wildly. First the Cajun's face and neck. Then his chest. The kisses ventured lower. He stopped when his lips brushed against coarse hair. He looked up at Gambit. The man's devil-colored eyes were closed in passion. He took a deep breath and did something he never thought he would do. He took another man's penis into his mouth.

Gambit involuntarily arched his back, pressing his penis deeper into Scott's mouth. It felt so good. He wanted all of himself in that warm, hungry mouth. He gasped in pleasure-heightened breaths. Scott was sucking him so hard. It was the man's inexperience. He hadn't learned how much pressure to apply, so he sucked as passionately as he felt. Gambit shuddered, briefly wondering what the hell this would have been like if Scott had developed the artfulness of an experienced lover.

Scott stopped and pulled away. He was panting hard. Gambit looked at him with something like disappointment in his eyes. He reached out and stroked the Cajun's cheek in an attempt at reassurance. "I want to make love to you, Gambit." His voice was husky and heavy with passion.

Gambit stared at him a moment, surprised by his sudden lack of inhibition. He smiled. "Homme, not dat Gambit mind, but it ain't like you done dis before, chere."

Scott nodded. "I know, but I want to. I want to know what it feels like." He looked away shyly. "I... I don't know if I'll ever have the chance or the courage again."

Gambit caressed the man. "Dat just fine. Gambit more dan willin' to be your bottom." His smile was so warm, but it was devilish and playful.

He moved to position himself on his knees and he leaned forward with his weight on his forearms. "Ready when you are, mon ami. Take your time, chere. It okay. Gambit here for you." He glanced back at the unsure expression on Scott's face. "Trust dem instincts you gots."

Scott nodded as he positioned himself behind Gambit. He looked at his new lover before him. He was so beautiful. The man's back was long and graceful. Flawless skin was pulled tight over firm muscles. He wanted to spend time tracing the lines of those muscles with the tip of his finger. The tip of his tongue. He looked at the cascade of russet hair tumbling down Gambit's back. Scott reached for a lock and twirled it thoughtfully between to fingers as he gently caressed the Cajun's buttocks with his other hand.

He placed gentle kisses along Gambit's spine as he caressed him and got used to the feel of his anatomy. He was so afraid. He closed his eyes and willed his hands to do what he wanted. They massaged the flesh in inwardly tightening circles. He tenderly stoked Gambit's anus with trembling fingers. The fingers slowly slid into the other man, stretching him.

When Gambit gasped, Scott's eyes flew open, and he almost pulled his hand away. When he realized it was merely a sound of pleasure and not pain he had elicited from the other man, his lips twitched in a brief, nervous smile. He didn't want to hurt the man. He just wanted him to feel pleasure.

He closed his eyes again. This time, he moved his body close. With a deep breath, he guided the head of his penis into the man. His eyes were closed, but brilliant lights flashed behind the closed lids.

Gambit's head rolled back when Scott had entered him. It was feeling so good. Hungry for more of that sensation, he pushed back, impaling himself on his teammate's hard penis. This time, it was Scott who gasped in pleasure, as did Remy.

Unintelligible words pushed past Scott's contorted lips. It was so unlike anything he ever felt before. It was so hot and tight. Every muscle in Gambit's body had just tightened itself around his cock, and the sensation was close to blowing him away. Part of him wanted to stay like that forever, relishing the sensation. But some other part of his brain made him pull part way out and plunge back into Gambit. Each time, it brought a sound of delight out of each man.

Scott could hardly believe he was doing this. He was so inexperienced. He hardly knew what to do. He closed his eyes, and found his rhythm. Just like in the dreams he had been having.

Gambit moved to match his teammate's rhythm. They moved with each other like lovers who had been together a thousand times before. It was so perfect.

Controlling the sensation had become too difficult to Scott. He could no longer hold back. His rhythm became harder and faster. It knocked Gambit off his knees, but still Cyclops plunged into the Cajun. He was caught up in a fever now. He couldn't stop. Not now.

Cyclops exploded into Gambit with a mighty groan. He collapsed against his lover's back. As he slowly caught his breath, he placed soft kisses along the man's spine. That had been the most amazing thing he had ever felt, and he whispered words saying so into Gambit's skin.

Gambit panted hard. He was so enjoying this man draped across him. Oh, it had been delightful. He never wanted this feeling to go away, but he knew it would.

They both slowly sat up. They were quiet, hardly looking at each other. It was like they had suddenly become shy with one another.

To Gambit's surprise, it was Scott who broke the silence. "Gambit, thank you." He offered a tender smile when the Cajun looked over at him through a messy veil of russet colored hair.

Gambit returned the smile. It was a weak one. He knew his time had come and passed. "Non, Gambit should be de one doin' de t'ankin' here, mon ami. Gambit only wish dat he could have shown you what he got to feel." He looked away. For some reason, he almost felt like tears were going to well up in his eyes. For the briefest of moments, he felt like some poor girl who got used. He knew this was going to be a "thank you for the fuck, you can get dressed now. Maybe I'll call you later" situation. And part of him regretted it.

Scott reached out and awkwardly traced a finger down Gambit's arm. He barely noticed how it flinched beneath his touch. He never knew why. "You still can. If you want to." He gently pushed the messy veil of coppery hair from the Cajun's handsome face.

Gambit looked up at Scott. He had sounded so firm, so certain. A broad smile parted his lips. "You don' gots to ask dis man twice, chere!" He hungrily kissed his teammate.

He laid Scott down on his back. The metal floor of the Danger Room was cold to Scott's flesh, but as he watched his lover position himself over him, he didn't care. Right now, cold wasn't a problem for either man.

Gambit had thoroughly massaged Cyclops and had stretched him enough for him to enter. He looked down and saw his own reflection in the ruby quartz lens of his lover's protective visor. He pulled away. "You trust Gambit?"

Scott partially sat up and looked at him in disbelief. "I just asked you to make love to me, and you have to ask? This isn't something I do all the time, you know." He looked at the odd expression on the Cajun's face. "Of course I trust you."

Gambit smiled. "Good." He got up and hurried across the room. There were some concealed drawers there. They held weapons and equipment they used during their training sessions. Hidden away at the bottom of one of the drawers was something else. It belonged to Gambit.

He slowly crossed the room. The whole time he looked down at the collar in his hand. It was one of the Genosian slave collars that they had all developed something of a fear of. He had acquired it a long time ago, hoping that some day he could give it to Rogue in a situation much like this. Something that would negate her powers long enough for them to be together as lovers.

Funny how things work out. Here now he was carrying it over to show to his lover. But it wasn't the lover he had gone through a lot of effort to get it for. And not for the same reason he had got it for her. He figured he was more than likely never going to get an opportunity to give it to Rogue. But maybe it would allow him to have some moment of joy with his lover after all. Just not the lover he truly had planned on.

He knelt down beside Scott and held the collar up for him to see. Even though Cyclops knew precisely what it was and what it did, Gambit felt like he needed to explain. "It one of dem slave collars from Genosha. Gambit got it from one of his contacts." He looked up at Scott with pleading eyes. "Gambit got it hopin' one of dese days Rogue would wear it for him so Gambit can touch her. But dat ain't likely to happen, non? Remy, he want for you to wear it for him instead."

Scott looked at him without understanding why Gambit wanted that collar around his neck. The pleading look on the man's face was all he needed. "I don't know why you want me to, but I will wear it for you."

An appreciative smile lit up Gambit face. His hands trembled as he placed the collar around Scott's neck. The sound of it clicking shut echoed in the silent room. He looked at it a moment and he almost envisioned that blinking light indicating it was powered up lighting up Rogue's slender neck, but he shook the thought away.

He smiled reassuringly at Scott as Cyclops reached up and felt the collar around his neck. Though he trusted Gambit at this moment, the collar scared him. He barely felt Gambit's gentle hands on him, he was so lost in thought.

"Trust Gambit," echoed in his ears and he looked up at the gentle smile on the man's face. He would. He had to. With that collar negating his power now, he had no choice.

Gambit massaged Scott and entered him with his fingers. Instinctively, Scott clenched at the intrusion. "Relax, mon ami." Gambit's voice was gentle, and he relaxed some. Gambit had braced Cyclops' knees against his own chest and entered him slowly.

Scott felt himself be stretched more than he ever had before. The pain was intense. He looked up and saw Gambit's penis buried half way into him. He gritted his teeth as pain and pleasure engulfed him. For an instant, he wanted Gambit out of him, and he almost pushed the man off of him, but that was before the pain subsided.

When he felt Cyclops relax more, he pushed in deeper. The moan of delight told him the pain had passed for his lover, for the most part. The first time always hurt. That was why he was going to be so gentle with Scott.

Slow and easy, like they had all the time in the world, Gambit glided in and out of his lover. He was so careful to not rush and hurt the man. Cyclops was so tight around his member. Damn, he wanted desperately to fuck him hard.

Scott finally got the courage to move. He matched his rhythm to Gambit's slow and easy one. He knew he had went much harder than this on him, and briefly wondered if he had did it wrong. He recalled the look of ecstasy on Gambit's face earlier, and it was not unlike the expression presently on the Cajun's handsome face, so that brief worry vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Gambit was staring at him. He reached up and stroked the man's chest. Gambit' hand moved up to his face. He leaned his cheek into the master thief's hand as it brushed his face. But suddenly he tensed as he realized Gambit was reaching for his protective visor. His hand flew to stop the Cajun. It was instinct.

"You trust Gambit, non?" The smoky voice was sultry and lust filled. When Scott nodded, Gambit slowly slid the visor from his face. He looked down into the man's face. His eyes were clenched closed like vises. "Open your eyes, chere. It okay. De collar. Remember?"

Slowly, he opened his eyes. No destructive blasts of energy burst forth. He smiled nervously. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to more than just the hazy red he was accustomed to. Then it hit him. He was staring into the most intense devil colored eyes. They were beautiful. They danced with a storm of passion and hunger.

Gambit looked down into the warmest coffee-colored eyes he had ever seen. They were so rich and warm. They had a depth that seemed immeasurable. He wanted to dive into that depth and totally submerge himself in Scott. He didn't dare blink and break this unspoken bond they had between them.

He felt Cyclops thrust against him with more intensity than he had before, and Gambit quickly matched the tempo. It was ecstasy staring into those eyes while being buried deep into this man. They were so perfectly bound.

All of a sudden, Gambit's eyes went wide as he threw his head back. His thrusts came faster, almost out of control. That easy, slow rhythm long since forgotten now. He clenched Scott to him and exploded deep inside his lover.

Their mouths found each other and locked together as the last of Gambit's semen pumped into Scott. Their lips parted, but their bodies stayed joined for a moment longer. Gambit pulled out of him, finally, but draped himself over his lover to remain close.

They lay there entwined like they were all part of the same body. It was silent, save for the sound of their rapid breaths finally calming. This was their time to savor the whole experience. Each one locked the memories away in a part of their brain so they could never forget one of the best times of their lives.

Gambit hesitantly broke the silence. "Gambit got a question for you, mon ami. How is it you know de words to 'Papa Thibodeaux? Gambit hear you hummin' it de ot'er night."

Scott laughed nervously. "I was standing outside your door one night. That song was blaring from your room. I guess as long as I had stood there, it stuck with me." He never even questioned when Gambit heard him hum it, though it had only been that one time when he was in bed with Jean. He was too busy hoping Gambit wouldn't detect the lie and force him to tell him the truth.

For some reason, he didn't want him to know. He didn't want Gambit to know about the night he was standing at Gambit's door ready to knock when he was suddenly overwhelmed by images. Dreamlike images of him and the Cajun doing just what they had done. He had stood there for a moment unable to move. That song was blaring through the door. Even when Scott managed to make himself move, the images didn't go away. Even when he locked himself away in his room. This whole scene played out in his head with that song blaring in his ears even when he was no where near the Cajun's door. He had known where the images came from. They had come from Gambit himself. They had all suspected he had some psy talent. The images were probably being unintentionally projected to him by Gambit's untrained ability. He didn't want the man to know that his dreams had leaked out like that. It was too personal. It was like admitting you read someone else's diary. He couldn't do that to Gambit. Not now.

Gambit chuckled. "You standin' at my door? Now why didn' you knock an' come on in?"

Scott looked at him and smiled. "I was afraid this," waving his hand at the both of them entwined together, "Afraid this was going to happen."

The silence between them swelled again. Gambit knew the time had come for that part of the conversation. He just waited for Scott to begin it. He didn't have to wait long.

Scott sat up, but he didn't pull away from the Cajun. He rubbed his forehead in frustration. "This is hard. I wasn't prepared." He took a deep breath. "This isn't permanent."

Gambit sat up and looked at him. He saw the desperation in Scott's face. He was trying to be gentle. "Gambit know. You still married, an' you love dat wife you gots. Dis jus' a fling." He tried to sound nonchalant. He tried to use the same unfeeling tone he had used on countless dates that had ended just like this. He failed miserably. He pulled Scott to him for a brief kiss. "Gambit know what dis is, chere. What it was. We lost control. Dere was a tension an' we got it out, non?" He smiled at his leader. "We still de same men we were before dis happen."

A beeping sound emanated from the pile of clothing and Scott scrambled for it. He rummaged frantically through the mess of strewn clothing until he produced what looked like an ordinary digital wristwatch. But looks were deceiving. He pressed a button and spoke into it. "Cyclops here."

His teammate known as The Beast responded. "There you are, my fearless leader. Just letting you know there is one ravishing redhead on the phone eager to talk to her husband."

"Thank you. I will be there in a moment." Scott clicked the connection closed and looked over at Gambit. The Cajun was already getting dressed.

"Don' say nothin'. Gambit understand." He did a semi decent job of hiding the disappointment. It wasn't like he was looking for some real relationship with Scott. He just knew that he was back to being alone. He hated that.

Scott offered him a weak smile but said nothing. He rushed and collected his clothing to start dressing. He had to calm down so his telepathic wife wouldn't suspect. He took deep breaths.

He looked up when Gambit stood and headed for the door. Gambit glanced back at him briefly. "Dis was fun, mon ami. Maybe dere be a time we do dis again, non?" He laughed. "Now go spend some time talkin' to de one you love."

Scott didn't smile back. Gambit was gone before he could hear Cyclops say, "I think I just did. Damn it, Remy. I think I just did."

Out in the hall, Gambit strolled away from the Danger Room with his trademark nonchalance. To look at the man, other than the smile on his face, it was not showing he had just spent a moment of passion with someone he did care about, even if it wasn't love. He even had a trace of that troubled expression lingering on his face.

He was just starting to whistle 'Papa Thibodeaux' to himself as he strolled down the hall when he heard a gruff voice behind him. "I'm impressed, bub. That charm power must be pretty potent. You never would have got me to wear that collar."

Gambit spun on his heels to face Wolverine. His red-on-black eyes were narrowed, as he stared at the older man. He opened his mouth to speak, but the Canadian cut him off.

"I saw the whole thing." He jerked his head back in the direction of the Danger Room. "I was up in the observation room, kid. I was watching Cyclops' session. You know Chuck don't want us going in there without someone to make sure things don't go out of control." He laughed lightly. "Guess Cyclops was so overwhelmed by that charm shit of yours, he forgot I was there."

He smiled at Gambit with such a gleam in his eyes. It was an unspoken "I know your secret". Gambit didn't think the man would ever tell anyone, but he didn't like him being so smug about knowing what just went on in the Danger Room between him and Scott.

"So you finally had your fun with the man. Hope this isn't going to get to be a habit. Don't want to be finding you fucking all over the house, bub." He followed along side Gambit as he continued down the hall.

Gambit didn't respond, so he decided to goad him some more. He lit up a cigar and as he shook out the match he let out an impressed whistle. "That charm power is impressive, boy. Did it take a lot to seduce him and get him to put on that slave collar?" There were wrinkles of amusement surrounding his eyes.

 

POSSIBLE ENDING #1

Gambit stopped and looked at him. A smile that would have shaken up the devil himself spread across his lips. He leaned in toward Wolverine. "M'sieu Wolverine wanna know a secret?" He looked from side to side as if making sure no one else was there. "Remy LeBeau got de man all on his own. Gambit didn' even have to use de charm power, mon ami." He winked at Wolverine after telling the Canadian the truth, and continued on down the hall.

Wolverine just stared after him in disbelief. For once in his life, he was actually speechless. He didn't know whether to believe the Cajun or not. And 'Papa Thibodeaux' just echoed faintly down the hall.

 

POSSIBLE ENDING #2

Gambit stopped and looked at him. A smile that would have shook the devil himself spread across his lips. He leaned in toward Wolverine. "M'sieu Wolverine wanna know a secret?" He looked from side to side as if making sure no one else was there. He opened his mouth to speak, but movement beyond Wolverine caught his eye. He saw Cyclops exiting the Danger Room. The man was nervously adjusting his clothing as if he was so sure everyone would notice they had been cast aside for a sexual tryst with the Cajun thief. Something, maybe sympathy, tugged in Gambit's chest.

When Scott had vacated the hallway, Gambit redirected his attention on the scruffy Canadian if front of him. "Let's just say Gambit was very charming with ol' Cyke." He let flow just enough of this potent power to make Wolverine go weak in the knees. "Who knows. Maybe it Wolverine who no need for Gambit to use de charm power on to get seduced."

Unwillingly, Wolverine reached to stroke the Cajun's face, but he was no longer there. Wolverine just stared after him in disbelief. For once in his life, he was actually speechless. He didn't know whether to believe the Cajun or not. And 'Papa Thibodeaux' just echoed faintly down the hall.

 

END