X-cstasy!

Disclaimer: Don’t own the X-Men and unfortunately I never will. So don’t sue!


A/N: I’ve been writing a lot of Ororo/Logan stories recently so I thought to break it up a little I’d write a fic about my second favourite imaginary Marvel couple, Ororo/Remy. I wanted to attempt a short one before trying to write a longer fic about this pairing. This is just a simple piece of fun (hopefully!) ItPWP,PWP, basically, incredibly silly and cheesy but read on and enjoy! M’ikosan7, xx

P.S. I apologise to any French speaking people reading this, my attempts are probably beyond pitiful, but I wanted to give it a go. Feel free to correct me on my French grammar!

A/N;2;THIS IS NOT AN UPDATE, JUST SOME MINOR REVISIONS.


‘XCSTASY!’


Remy LeBeau finished the last of his bourbon as he stood at the patio doors looking down onto the back lawn of the Xavier mansion. It was completely dark outside and the only thing that was discernable on the landscape was the light from Ororo Munroe’s green house. He ran a finger idly around the edge of the empty cut crystal glass, creating a low humming noise that usually only worked on wine glasses. Lost in thought he trailed the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, giving him one last taste of the strong warming liquor. His eyes lazily travelled upwards towards the skyacinacing random patterns in the several clusters of clear, shinning night diamonds as the coolness of the outside air coming through the large open doors brushed over him; a welcome relief from the heat of the rec room.


“Hey swamp rat, are y’all up for this next game or what?”


Remy looked over his shoulder at his former squeeze Rogue, as she sat at the card table with Beast, Havok, Northstar and the White Queen. They’d managed to while away most of the evening playing poker and it was getting close to 2.00am, he wasn’t really that up for it anymore. Besides, Remy had already taken them all for everything they had. Well, that is to say, he’d gained himself an almost full box of matches. He pulled a handful of them out of the pocket of his bleached jeans, jigging them up and down in his cupped hand a couple of times he looked down at them as if in contemplation. Making a loose fist around them he jokingly replied, in his warm treacle southern drawl, “Non chere, Gambit t’ink’s he’ll give it a miss dis time, anyway, I always carry a lighter around wit me.” Speaking of which, he thought to himself as he put the matches back and took out instead a packet of Marlborough.


The White Queen happened to glance over at the lithe Cajun, her often hard features hardening even further, she didn’t need to turn to diamond; a stare at twenty paces would be enough to stop any man in her tracks, out of pure fright most probably! “Oh how wonderful,” Emma started before taking a sip of chilled Dom Perignon, “you’ve spent the entire evening fleecing us and now you’re going to carry on your slow yet determined crusade to give us all lung cancer.” The jest earned nothing more than a sly smile from the X-Men’s resident charmer as he placed the cigarette between his lips, and despite the presence of ample ‘kindling’, proceeded to light it with the tip of his finger. It only took one light touch and in a small magenta flash, the end was glowing orange and red with a thin blue wisp rising up from it, then being taken out of the open patio door and off into the nigky. ky. Right now, Remy LeBeau’s mind was elsewhere. He looked back out onto the mansion lawn, running his free hand absently through his thick hair, thinking about what exactly it was she was doing right now, down there, alone, in the black of the night. Most importantly, alone...


“Are you sure you won’t join us Remy?” Jean-Paul asked, trying to sound as casual as he possibly could. He glanced quickly, as to not let his eyes linger, no matter how much he wished them to. Taking his attention back to his (woefully appalling) hand, he wasn’t really concentrating on how he make the most of the bad lot he’d just been dealt.


Remy turned fully and took a step or two into the room, “Non, mais merci de toute facon.” He gave the French-Canadian a little smile, the type of smile that he knew turned women to jelly, perfectly aware of the, slightly cruel, little game he was playing. But it was just his nature; sexual attention was sexual attention and he couldn’t help but dance along to its tune, seducing was as much in his blood as thieving. For good or ill? No-one was quite sure, least of all him. But tonight, Remy had other things on his mind than teasing and flirting with the only homosexual X-Man for his own personal amusement, so he hadn’t really the heart for it. Drawing on his cigarette, he took a step back and leant his lean body on the white painted door frame, crossing his feet over at the ankles in a casualnce,nce, placing his free hand in the pocket of his ripped jeans. For a while he let his ebony and ruby eyes flick over the poker players; watching Hank’s massive paws trying to deal out the rest of the cards with a Vegas-type precision; Emma, parting her diamond-shimmer glossed lips as she let the golden bubbled liquid slid its merry way down her throat from the elegantly tall and slim crystal champagne glass; Rogue, looking really quite fetching as she dared to bare more than a few inches of skin to stunning affect, tapping her still yellow-gloved hands on the mahogany table impatiently; Alex was concentrating ridiculously hard on each card being passed to him, ever the Summers brother!; and then Jean-Paul, who , unlike his usual cock-sure business persona, was sweating a little under his Gucci collar, trying to ignore Gambit’s eyes on him whilst simultaneously trying to resist the temptation of raking his own clear blue orbs over the hot Cajun, as, it was fair to say, he had been doing all evening whenever he thought he could sneak it.


As a natural thief, it was one of Remy’s greatest pleasures to simply people watch and learn more about them. For he had always been canny enough to realise, even when he was very young that one could garner more information about a person if you could just sit and observe, than any amount of talking to them for weeks or months on end. But he grew listless of this much practiced pursuit quite easily, which was most unlike him. He usually had the patience of a saint. Shifting slightly, Remy uncrossed his ankles and then crossed them the other way; the hard edge of the door frame pressing firmly against his back all the while, cool on his skin even through the thin cotton T-shirt.


It wasn’t long before his fidgeting attracted attention. “What the hell’s wrong with you boy?” Rogue called over good humouredly, “Y’all got ants in yer pants or somethin’! Cause yer shiftin’ around over there like a crazy critter!”


“Sorry chere.” He offered with a sarcastic yet oddly sincere little bow, something of the charmer coming out in him despite himself, as he pushed off the door frame. Looking up just long enough from beneath his drooping auburn fringe to observe the playfully sly eyes his former Southern-Sweetheart was giving him.


“Fine, but will y’all sit down before I have ta knock ya down? Some of us are tryin’ ta concentrate here!”


Remy couldn’t help but laugh quietly at that and the way her eyebrows consequently dropped when she looked back down at her five cards, affecting an air of deep concentration. He only found it funny because he’d played enough late-night games of strip poker with the woman to know that she couldn’t play cards for shit! To this day, she’d yet to win a hand against him, not a single one. “Whatever yo’ say chere.” He stood there silently for a few moments, smoking on his cigarette like an over worked chimney more before giving a casual glance over his shoulder out the open door at the black of the night. Leaving it for a minute or two more, in which time he’d glanced at the open void three more times, he eventually announced, cool as you like, “I’m goin’ see Stormy, see if she need some company down dere.”


“Good, you’re puttin’ me off just skulking there.” This latest ‘put-down’ came from Alex as he deftly tried to focus on which card he was going to lay down first, fingering the top edges of them carefully; back and forth and back and forth.


“Oh for Pete’s sake Alex, just put your card down!” Beast barked, becoming impatient, but playfully so as only the Beast can be, at Havok’s dallying.


“Hey, don’t rush me---artist at work here!”


Remy shook his head slightly and finally left the room, as he’d been itching to all evening in truth, with the sound of their collective laughter ringing in his ears and then the subsequent jibes and jokes at Alex’s expense that followed.

With his strange scarlet on ebony eyes fixed on the beacon that was the greenhouse, he jogged down there swiftly, not even breaking a sweat. Just as he got to the door, he took the cigarette from its home, planted in the corner of his mouth and flicked the almost finished stub out of sight; watching the flaming ember do a graceful arch before landing somewhere in the dark and being snuffed out by the layer of moisture that coated the grass. Running a hand through his longish auburn hair, as was his habit and raking back his fringe, he did a quick check of himself; tatty jeans and ripped-at-the-sleeves ‘X’ T-shirt all roguishly presentable enough and then rapped on the glass greenhouse door. The tinny sound of the knocks felt like the only sound out here in the stillness of the dark night, save for the sound of his own breathing, until somewhere in the distance, a church bell rang; its full booming echo flooding over the Salem Centre countryside. It denoted that the time was now two o’clock with its double hollow chimes. He peered through the slightly steamed windows; there didn’t appear to be any activity going on inside. He knocked again but then immediately went for the cold steel door handle.


“Stormy?” The handsome Cajun didn’t wait for her to respond as he pushed down the handle and entered.


* * *


Storm was just about finished planting the last of the bulbs as she heard the door click open and Remy’s call. She smiled to herself as she heard his footsteps casually saunter over to her; the left over scent of spent tobacco wafting into the air as he came further into the greenhouse. Carefully, Ororo patted the earth where she had planted the rare tulip cross-breed bulb, making sure that it was utterly under the umber coloured soil. It was still damp from the soaking she’d just issued to it from a small secluded rain cloud, so its texture was like moist un-baked apple crumble topping. She leant back on her haunches as she rubbed her mud caked hands together; sliding her slim fingers in between one another to rid them of the excess soil, before turning her head over her shoulder as her not too unexpected visitor came up closer. Her thick, white hair fell gracefully over her right shoulder as she looked at Remy as if waiting for him to say something. Absently, she lifted her hand to her forehead, wiping away the slight layer of sweat that left a vague sheen on her skin, though their was no need the scrape her often cumbersome hair away from the area as it was already pulled back by her old elaborately shaped black head band. She didn’t wear it often these days, save for when she was gardening, like now.


“You where mingming bored of the cards?” She questioned as she gathered up her trowel and miniature fork before wiping again at her high forehead with the back of her hand, elegantly.


Remy couldn’t help but notice how wonderful it looked when she did that. Though, lately he really couldn’t ignore how exquisite it appeared when she did even the most inconsequential things. The smallest gesture incurred his unadulterated pleasure.


“Yah.” He responded nonchalantly; playing with the tips of the leaves of an oversized rubber plant that happened to be near by. Eventually, taking his attention from the waxy textured foliage he looked over at her, but wasn’t too surprised to see that she was still concentrating on the un-grown flower beds, just making extra sure none of the bulbs were near the surface. “Yo’ not think yo’ spend a bit too much time in dis place chere?” As he asked the question, in the most tactfully way he could manage, he attempted to look casual; thrusting his hands in his pockets and leaning against a large iron beam to his left with his shoulder. Then removing one hand, he flicked, as if interested in it, the long, broad edge of a plant that he didn’t quite recognise that was opposite the one he had previously feigned interest in. All this to distract attention away from the potentially sensitive question he’d just put to the weather witch. No matter how close they were, he’d always (and possibly always would) remain weary of incurring her wrath. Especially with questions that had not-so-subtle double meanings.


“I am happy here Remy.” She surveyed all that was around her with a leisurely, watchful eye, turning at first to the left and then to the right, observing the dense horticulture that literally surrounded her. “I do not feel that I am missing out on anything.”


He raised a familiarly mischievous eyw atw at her; a dirty smile brushing his lips. It left no illusions as to what was on his mind. “Den yo’ should mah padnant.”


“What is that supposed to mean Gambit?”


“Oh nuhddin’.” He shot off casually as he delved into his pocket and retrieved a solitary playing card. Absently, he brought into practice his mutant powers; lighting the edges of the ace of spades and then blowing them out before they caught properly on fire. The stench of melted plasticized casing wafted from it but also the curiously pleasant smell of his kinetic powers being brought into practice. They had a soft scent about them, like a slow burning log fire. The edges of the card began to wither and curl up on themselves as he repeated the practice on all four corners.


“I have, my friend,” Her voice sounded a little strained as she got up from the ground, stepping out of the twelve foot by five wooden tub; several of which adorned the oversized greenhouse, and then she continued once she was upright, “---absolutely no patience for playing games, as you well know.” She raised a sleek eyebrow at him, almost in the same manner as he had a moment ago as if to mock him, though it was accompanied by a small lop-sided smile. He voluptuous lips gaining an extra perception of beauty with the gesture.


He laughed, but it sounded like it was under his breath as he nodded in agreement. “Yo’ sure like de direct approach don’t you chere?”


“It is preferable Remy.” Placing the gardening tools down at the side of the box, she stepped out of it, wiping her hands on the white vest top she was wearing as it already had several brown and sap green streaking marks on it, divesting them of the last dirt that clung stubbornly to them. Apart from the tight, revealing top, the weather goddess was also sporting the smallest and perhaps tightest pair of denim hot pants Remy had ever seen. And for a man who’d spent rather more than a few hours checking out the skimpy attire of women strolling down the Bayou, that was some observation. They hugged her supple curves perfectly, leaving little to the imagination. Not that he needed to imagine...Ororo didn’t miss it. She followed the trajectory of his darkly beautiful eyes and had to stop herself from snickering outright. It hadn’t escaped her attention that those eyes had been lingering of late, markedly more than they used to. And she liked it...although, after what happened last week, it wasn’t exactly a wonder. “So,” she started as she practically sashayed over to him, “What is it you want this time?” She could feel the soil on the bottoms of her feet as she walked, pressing against her skin; between the cold concrete of the greenhouse floor and her bare soles. It was almost comforting to her...natural to an extent.


Tossing the burnt card down onto the ground in front of him, which was now nothing more than a four inch by four piece of unidentifiable cardboard due to his random pyrotechnics, Remy stepped on it as he got closer to her, crunching it into the ground and making its now delicate form dissipate into nothing more than greyish ash. “Dat depends chere.” He eventually replied with that sexy, laidback drawl. Running just one finger down her hair on the right side, then catching the platinum strands between two of them, reaching all the way down their length, pulling thoughtfully at their perfectly cut tips.


“On what?”


“On what yo’ be offering.” Raising his hand once again, he ran his fingers through her soft hair, repeating the same action as before; the strands feeling wonderfully silky to his skin, so much so that he thought he could probably do this all day and be content.


Again, the weather witch tried to suppress a laugh, turning her face down slightly, just for a mere moment before flicking her crystal-esque blue eyes back up to her close friend. She couldn’t deny; the incident in her bath tub had been fun, more than fun really. But dare she do it again? A wicked little thought about why all his former lovers seemed so intent on clinging to him flashed through her mind but she berated herself immediately. They were best friends and sometimes, in these mixed gender friendships, lines were crossed. But if one were mature enough, it wouldn’t affect that friendship. Although, that really did depend on whether you wanted it to happen again or not...


“Yo’ know chere, I can’t get what happened outta mah mind.”


“Oh do not be so modest Remy.” She stepped closer and ran a finger along the collar of his old T-shirt but then she turned away and went to the flowerbed that was to their left, stepping carefully in to it. “I am sure you have had your mind on at least the dozen or so other conquests you have amassed since.”


“Always wit de dead pan humour, hien?” He shook his head playfully, making his long bangs fall down into his vision. Raking them slowly back, his hand stopped at the top of his head, mid motion as he concentrated on what was before him. Ororo had got onto her hands and knees and was busy tending to something (the details of which, rather surprisingly, escaped Remy’s attention at this particular moment in time). She was reaching forwards and it gave the Cajun the absolute perfect view of her rear end. So much so that several interesting fantasies flicked across his dirty mind, some of which he was happy to report, existing in the realms of his memory and not just daydreams.


“Remy?” He hadn’t noticed that she had turned her head over her shoulder and was looking at him. The daydream stopped immediately.


“What?”


“Your mouth is open---if catching flies is your intention, you will be pretty successful in here,” she wafted the small implement in her hand to indicate the environment, “they are everywhere.”


He shut the open orifice instantly, slightly embarrassed that not only had he been staring like a slack-jawed idiot, but that he’d been caught in the act too. Raking his hair back again it didn’t take the charmer too long to regain his composure; coming up with a quick, if a little cheesy, reply. “Well, when de view is so good chere,” he put his hand to his heart as if to profess innocence, “yo’ can’t blame a man!”


She rolled her eyes at him and playfully shook her head, then turned around and carried on with what she had been doing; dead heading the red and yellow tulips that lay in rows along the huge bed of soil. As she continued with her task, she was perfectly aware that she had once again left herself open to Remy’s ogling but she didn’t mind, in fact, she rather enjoyed it. Being seen as sexy was something she hadn’t been all that used to in this mansion, so now that the opportunity had presented itself, she wasn’t about to balk at taking it. Not that she was simply happy to have attention from just anyone mind; she was a woman of taste. And right now that taste happened to be for something hot and Cajun spicy!


Never taking his eyes off her, Remy toed off each well-worn trainer from his feet and made his way to the large flower bed where Ororo was working. It was fairly dark in the greenhouse and the odd light bulbs that hung on plaited wires from the high roof didn’t give that much illumination. Plus what light did manage to get down was mottled and filtered through the gigantic plants that filled the place. For all the natural paraphernalia they might as well have been in the jungle. But that feeling of remoteness was more of a turn on for him than anything else. So what if the rest of the X-Men and a school full of greasy haired teens were just up the hill from them. This was Storm’s domain and they completely alone here.


Silently, he stepped over the wooden barrier that held the soil in place and joined her in the flower bed. He came up behind her as she kneeled in the dirt; trailing his eyes over her. From her bare feet caked in mud on their soles, up along her long, powerful calves and thighs, lingering slightly on the high curve of her perfect arse, then along the dip in her back that showed in between the gap from the waist line of her hot pants to the hem of her vest top. He could see the small beads of sweat that had gathered there, looking like a layer of diamonds on her soft, smooth coffee skin and couldn’t resist the urge to touch them, to taste them. Sinking down to his knees, he mirrored her position on all floors and crawled over to her. Coming up behind her, he slowly lowered his lips to her skin, hovering over it before closing his eyes and flicking his tongue out. Ororo gasped as she felt his hot breath on her back and then his warm and wet tongue, trailing slowly and lightly upwards.


Bringing his knees forwards slightly, he leant in, reaching up and gripping at the edge of her vest, pushing it up inch by inch as his tongue continued its journey upwards. Ororo’s hands had long since stopped tinkering with the plants and where now gripping the soil beneath her; the wet, dark mud sinking in between her long fingers. Her breath was beginning to speed up gradually, escaping from her barely parted lips with increasing quiet pants. By now Remy had brought the white top to just beneath her full breasts and was close enough to her so that his groin was pressed against her arse. She immediately felt the hardness of his erection rubbing against her, even through the two layers of thick denim that was between them and the dull pounding that had started within her was already reaching a kind of fever pitch.


Suddenly, Remy brought his whole mouth down on her back, kissing the skin before baring his teeth and nipping her slightly. Again she gasped but this time a half spoken word escaped with it. “Remy...”


Without warning and perhaps at the prompting of her whispering her name with the breathless lustiness that turned him on so, he took his mouth from her body and straightened them both up. For a moment they stayed like that; she had parted her legs some more to let him press his entire body against her back and had her head laid back on his shoulder. Whilst he rested his cheek on the side of her head and tried to control his rapidly harsh breathing as his hands gripped at the edges of her bunched up vest. Moving his mouth down to her ear, he whispered the word “Cheri” in her ear before moving it down to her neck and kissing it with a slow but passionate longing.


Ororo threw her hands behind her, grasping as sos soft locks as she writhed in a slow rhythm to his kisses. It was amazing how right this all felt. “Oh Remy...” She crooned wistfully as she relaxed into his kiss, but no sooner had she become comfortable and was losing herself in it than he moved again; taking his mouth from her neck, he straightened up and pulled her vest top off completely. She assisted; disentangling her hands from his hair putting her arms up above her head. He took the top from over her hands and then tossed it behind him carelessly but just as she was about to bring her arms back down he grasped at them with one hand, indicating that he wanted them to stay exactly where they were. She obeyed, leaving the long limbs up there as his hands found their way down to her bare breasts and caressed them lovingly. He still had his fingerless gloves on but that only seemed to add to the sensation as he rolled them and tweaked there endtil til they became absolutely erect.


He brought one hand up and swooped her hair from her neck, trailing it all down her left shoulder to bare her neck to him once more. As he kissed its long slender length again with the same tantalising slowness, his hands crept down her lithe body, rubbing into her skin the remnants of soil that remained on his hands from moments earlier. Eventually they met their destination; the belt line of her shorts. With all the dexterity that was afforded to a thief’s fingers, he flipped open the brass button and had the zip down quickly. But then his movements became lingering again as he hooked his thumbs over the edge at each curving hip and started them on their gradual decent.


Ororo was becoming impatient in her growing passion, desperately wanting to feel the erection that was still pressing firmly against her arse, inside her. She could feel the ever increasing beads of sweat on her body trickling down from her neck and sliding down her bare back until they were stopped by Remy’s still covered chest connecting so closely to her skin. She let out a low contented moan as he continued to pull off her hot pants and the black G-string she was wearing underneath at the same time. With all her strength she resisted her urge to take her arms down and help him along; the suspense was killing her. But that was part of his game as she had learnt in her attic room the other night when he had paid her a late night visit with unexpected but none-the-less pleasant results. He didn’t like to rush things, she realised; he liked to prologue the pleasure for as long as he could and he was damned good at that particular skill she had found out to her multiple joy...

“So fuckin’ hot.” He murmured against her neck between kisses. By now, he’d gotten her pants and undergarments down past her sex and now she was utterly exposed to him. With a swiftness, once her clothes had dropped as far as her knees, he slid one hand up the inside of her thigh and rubbed his fingers along the lips of her vagina. The teasing touch caused a ripple of pure pleasure, with the promise of something more intense to come. His hot breath sped up against her neck as in response she began to grid her bare arse into his erect cock. With one or two more light touches he then plunged two fingers into her and then three when he realised how slick she already was. With measured movements he teased her clitoris and then began to move his own body with her rhythm as she ground into him with more insistence.


“Oh Remy...Remy please...please...” She couldn’t concentrate on keeping her arms where they were any longer, but it seemed he didn’t want her to as he withdrew his fingers and pulled away from her. But only long enough to turn her around and lay her flat on the mud, crushing several red and yellow tulips as he did so. But he didn’t care and at this moment, neither did Ororo. Kneeling between her parted legs he whipped her hot pants and G-string all the way off, throwing them in the same manner as her top, letting them land where they would. After, he quickly took of his own T-shirt, gripping at either side of the frayed bottom so that his arms were crossed and it came off with no fuss, although there was a small tearing sound as if one of the seams had given a little. Then he began to undo his jeans with much more pace than he had taken undressing her. Ororo flung her hands above her head, feeling at the dirt as she lay there, waiting for him and watching him. His perfectly formed hairless chest; that flawless stubble strewn jaw line and then those eyes, those devil’s eyes watching her as she was watching him. The scarlet of his irises appeared to burn much brighter than usual in his passion, it was something she had noticed when they had made love previously and it made her even hotter.


They were both completely naked now as he carefully lowered himself down; his hands laid at the sides of her head, supporting his bodyweight as he rolled his hips between her legs, just brushing her slick sex and eliciting a ragged moan from her barely parted lips. On hearing it and feeling her, it was all he could do to stop from climaxing there and then. Ororo didn’t miss it, the quick tightening of the jaw muscles behind his cheek bones and the tenseness in his tanned biceps, defining them perfectly. With something of a wicked smile on her ruddy lips, the weather goddess flung her long legs up around Remy’s body, locking them over the small of his back and pulling him clowithwithin touching distance of her sex.


“Always de one to be in control, chere!” He laughed breathlessly before biting back a moan of his Lay Laying his forearms flat in the dirt, his lips went to her neck, kissing much harder than before as he withdrew from her only to thrust back forwards and enter her fully.


“Always...lover!” She cried brokenly at the moment he had pushed his cock into her and then all she could do was gasp as he pulled out almost fully and rammed back in again. His teeth bit into her neck on the second thrust, stifling a groan of pleasure. He never thought, as he began the more rhythmic thrusting, that making love to his Stormy would ever be as good as this. The fantasies had come nowhere near...this was something else. “R...Remy...Remy...” She sighed and moaned into his ear as she grasped at his hair, feeling its thick silky strands meld with the damp mud on her hands.


In response, Remy sped up, rutting harder and harder, his equally muddy hands (though still clad with fingerless gloves) reaching behind him and gripped tightly around her athletic thighs. “Sto---mon---mon Dieu...Stormy!” He took his head from her neck and kissed her, not with his usual soft, velvet searching, the mark of a practiced ‘Valentino’, but with a kind of violent passion that seemed beyond his cool lover act. It suggested a deeper need and Ororo, who was by now fit to bursting, reacted to it with spurt of unbridled passion herself. She unlocked her legs from around him and her powerful limbs, managed to flip Remy over so that she was astride him. But the force with which she’d pushed herself up led to them rolling over again so that he was on top once more, their dirt and sweat streaked bodies crushing yere ore of the Wind-rider’s flowers. Neither looked at the minor trail of devastation they were causing; their mouths still locked, tongues never ceasing to tussle with the same ferociousness the kiss started with. Eventually, after several rolls this way and that, in which, miraculously the couple never lost their rhythm, Ororo did win out, managing to get astride him once more.


Pulling back and finally breaking their kiss, she sat up, her white mane flicking backwards with a wild flourish having lost her headband. She smiled down at him and laughed; the laugh that Remy hadn’t had out of his mind since he’d first heard it the last time they’d done this. It was full and lustful; something he’d never really heard from her before, it was dripping with a love of life that made him happy just to here it. He looked up at her; dark bits and broken red and yellow petals in her platinum locks; her sapphires shinning. “Chere...” His large, nimble hands slipped up her thighs and took hold of her hips as gently she began to rock them. “...do yo’ know how beau’iful yo’ are?” He drawled thickly.


Ororo simply smiled and closed her eyes, letting her head full back slowly as she rode him; some of the petals and grit and mud falling down onto Remy’s glistening chest below. In this new position it didn’t take either of them long to reach their climax. She gripped at his raised knee behind her; the other hand leant on his wash-board stomach as she rocked frantically, small cries slipping out between lusty pants.


Remy knew he only had to hold on that little bit longer, but he wasn’t sure he’d last in all honesty. He sat up, Ororo now affectively sitting in his lap. His hands slid up her now arching back as brought his face to her breasts but was to close to coming to do anything than press against them. With the last few forceful bucks up into her as she simultaneously rode him with all the energy she had left, he felt himself explode inside of her. But thankfully, she wasn’t too far behind.


“Yes...ahhh, REMY!...YES!” As she came, she would have thrown herself completely backwards had Remy not had his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he shuddered through the final throws of his own orgasm.


“Ahh...ahh...chere...ahh, mon Dieu...ahh...” He panted heavily, his head resting against her chest. He could feel the hot moisture between his cheek and the smooth skin just above her rounded breast. With what felt like a peeling sensation, Remy pulled his head back and looked up at her. Her eyes were still closed and her head tipped back. She was panting just as much as he with her mouth opelittlittle, hair strewn across her face haphazardly, a few strands falling into it, creeping past the lips and into the dark space beyond. He reached up, his whole arm feeling shaky and like a lead weight. Lightly, he scrapped the hair from her cheeks, pulling it from her mouth.


As he did this, Ororo’s eyes finally opened and she looked down at her lover; his blood red eyes still burning, the fires not dimmed even though desire had been satisfied. His sweaty bangs clung to his forehead and in the same manner of intimacy as he’d just afforded her, she brushed them away from where they’d been partially covering right eye. Tucking them behind his ear, the simply looked at each other and held one another as their breathing returned to normal. Their was no need for words, as Ororo leant in and he tipped his head to a more upward angle; their lips meeting with a tenderness and understanding


Their eyes had held each other until the last moment...


*


Remy perched on the edge of the large tub as he put his trainer on; the last item of clothing to be replaced. He leant backwards slightly and outstretched his left leg so that he could retrieve his cigarettes from his pocket. As he did so, a plethora of match sticks fell to the ground about his feet with a scattering pitter-patter. Pulling his leg in and sitting up straight, he looked down at them strewn haphazardly; he then gave a short amused huff as he plucked out a cigarette and settled it between his lips. Just then, two long dark arms came around his waist; their hands, palms flat, then travelled up his chest, ruffling up his dirty T-shirt as they went. Peeking her head over his shoulder and rested her chin on it, Ororo peered at the sticks on the floor. She planted a gentle kiss on his neck before asking, “Why have you got those?”, and then she planted another kiss at the tip of his earlobe, nibbling at it suggestively.


He shook his head as he lit his cigarette, opting to use his lighter this time around; flipping the lid open with a quick flick and then slamming it shut just as quickly with the flat of his hand. After taking a long and drawn out drag, he took it from his lips and said in a cloud of smoke, “It’s what we were playin’ cards for.”


“Oh right, and I suppose, by the look of the pile that you fleeced them all.” She said lightly as she tightened her arms around him and settled her cheek into the nook of his neck.


“Funny,” he started as he turned his head to the side, “‘cause dat’s exactly what Emma t’ought.” Then he leant in and kissed her, slowly caressing her lips with his, in that wonderfully gentle way he had. It turned Ororo’s legs to jelly and her heart to butter; melting with its warmth.


She pecked his lips one or two times more before pulling away completely; disengaging her arms from around his body. Remy, with a thwarted look on his face, made a gentle grab for her arm to keep her where she was, but she laughed it off as her arm and then her hand, to the very tips of her fingers, passed unheeded through his touch. His eyes fixed on her naked, supple form as she walked away; a few rivulets from her cleansing rain shower running down and caressing the curves of her flawless swarthy skin. The sight of Storm naked was something that he (and virtually every other X-Man for that matter.) had seen many a time before; she wasn’t ashamed and nor ought she to be, but to him it had become something different. Seeing her in this different light was like seeing her for the first time and it hit him, as he watched her now that this nagging feeling that had been plaguing his peace of mind since the bath tub, was that he wanted her. He really wanted her to be his in the way that no-one else could have her. Remy LeBeau was in love with his Stormy.


Ororo slipped quickly into the black jogging pants and lilac vest top that she always kept in the greenhouse, just in case she needed to change. Not that she ever thought she would need them for circumstances such as this, but it was a pleasant surprise! She picked up her headband, which had come lose at some point and wiped the mud room it with her already soiled white top. Letting the cotton garment fall to the ground, she drew all her hair back with both hands and then secured it from falling into her eyes with the solid headband. Finished, she turned to her lover and suggested, “We should go up and join them. I feel sure they will still be playing.” After being an X-Man for so many years, she knew that these things were apt to continue to the wee, small hours.


Remy smiled around his cigarette and nodded, ever the expert at hiding how he truly felt. “Sure, why not.” He agreed after a long a noisy exhale.


But he was kidding himself if he ever thought he could fool Ororo. “Is something thttertter?” She asked coolly as she made her way over to where he was still sitting on the edge of the tub.


He shook his head as he stood up, brushing his clothes down roughly with both hands. For all the good it did him; they were still dirty as hell. Reaching forwards, he cupped his hand around her neck, running his fingers up into her hair as he brought her close to him for a kiss. “Absolument non!” He finally replied; his hesitance being long enough to tell her that there was. But for now Ororo let it pass.


“Come on then.” She urged as she took his hand in hers and headed for the door. They stayed linked that way until they came to the mansion doors.


*


“Stormy...”


“Um hum?”


“Wait.” Remy took hold of her arm just before they got to the rec room door. She turned to face him, with a mild expectancy in her features. But her very calmness that seemed to run to the core of the woman taking the edge off the nerves the Cajun was feeling right now.


“What is it?” She urged as the silence became a little too prolonged and nerves began to titter in her also. It appeared Remy was building up to something and it wasn’t often that he had to prepare himself to say something, the words usually just rolled of that velvet tongue of his.


“I...” Looking at the woman who knew more of his deepest heart than anyone else, as the warm orange light of the hallway fell on her skin and gleaming hair, he realised that had to tell her that he loved her. Letting go of her arm, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, but as he did so, he happened to glance to the side and caught sight of something. In a flash of iratiration an idea hit him. Ever the gambling man, he took it on fate to decide for him. “I got a proposition fo’ yo’ chere.” He put forwards; a suddenly cock-sure tone back in his voice.


Ororo was confused by this sudden change in his countenance; one minute oddly coy and awkward, the next, his usual wily self. “What?” She asked with a slightly perturbed laugh and confused shake of the head.


He proceeded to pull out of his pocket a coin. The plan in his mind was simple; down the end of the corridor where he had glanced, there was a door, a door that led to what was once a servant stair case that just happened to lead all the way up to Ororo’s attic room. “I’m gone toss dis coin---if it lands heads, we go an’ join de others; we play cards.” His mouth turned up into a sly grin. “But---if it be tails, we go t’rough dat door instead.” He nodded to the attic staircase. Now, he was all suggestive smiles and playfulness on the outside but inside he added silently to himself that if they were to go up there he would tell her that he loved her and that he wanted them to be together properly---but only if fate would allow. If not, he guessed the late night trysts would continue as they were---random and isolated. That was the last thing Remy wanted; he wanted her to be his...completely.


“Alright.” Ororo agreed, still a little distracted by his odd behaviour but in her heart hoping it would be tails. In the past, she had been let down badly by men, well, more one man in particular. Did she really have it in her to take a chance on Remy? After all, the man wasn’t exactly the safest bet, but he did understand her like no-one else ever had and that counted for much. But if they were going to do this, she thought to herself, they had to do it right; all or nothing. And if that coin said tails, she would tell him so.


“Ready?”


“Ready.”


Remy balanced the coin on just past the knuckle joint of his thumb and tucked the edge of the nail under his index finger. Silently he counted to three whilst they both held their breath, eyes fixed on the gleaming dime. With a flick of his thumb, the coin was launched into the air, spinning and flipping. Ororo and Remy were transfixed as its shinning surface seemed to flash as it caught the light of the hallway lamps. Over and over and over it turned like a shooting star, finally arching back downwards to land with a dull smack on the waiting back of Remy’s hand...


“Well?” Ororo asked anxiously, coming in close. As it had landed, Remy had covered it with his other hand. The anticipation was almost palpable as slowly he began to lift it up in such a way as to only make the coin visible to himself. He could hear his own breathing, sounding steeped in trepidation and his heart beat ceaselessly and wildly in his chest. Gradually he revealed the coins secret; his mouth curled into a smile and those red of his eyes began to burn...


~The End~