Summary:
It was the evening after a vicious battle with the FOH, wounds had been seen to, emotions settled, and the x-men had made their way to the Slug and Lettuce in order to get very very drunk.
All in all a fairly normal Friday night.
Despite the fact that they were legally too young to drink, Kitty Pryde and Sam Guthrie were both already completely slaughtered. Logan was in the process of knocking back his seventh pint of the hour. After four glasses of wine Betsy had carefully placed her forehead against the heavy oak table and passed out. Bobby was singing an awful Beach Boys track at the top of his lungs – also too young to drink, but the landlord hadn’t noticed, not even on the kid’s fourth somewhat staggery trip up to the bar. Jean and Scott had been kissing continuously for quite some time now, neither seeming to regard the quest to come up for air as worthy.
Remy had a talent for acting sober, after the amount of whiskey he’d just downed that was proving to be some talent. He found himself being used to prop Storm up, the Goddess appeared to be totally pissed. Couldn’t blame her, she’d been through hell that day, maybe a little more than the rest of them, there had been a heart-stopping moment when she thought a stray lightening bolt of her own creation had killed a little girl, the girl turned out to be alright, but ‘Ro was still a little shaky. Currently she was tipping a blue cocktail down her elegant neck.
“Um, Stormy, y’ missed y’r mouth, here, let Remy help.” Remy took the glass from her hand and guided it to her lips.
“Don’t ya think she’s had enough, Gumbo?” Logan tried to growl from across the room. It came out as just a really low slur.
“I, Storm, Godd-hic-ess of the ele- elements, shall be the judge of th-that.” Storm mumbled, all too gracelessly for a supposed ‘Goddess’. Her head lolled forward then snapped back upright again.
Gambit smiled, this stage of drunkenness was clinically referred to as ‘denial’, when the subject is really getting on for smashed, but won’t admit it to themselves, normally this is accompanied by murmurings of, ‘I’m okay’ ‘I’m not drunk’ ‘I’ll be fine’.
Remy was about to get up for another Jack Daniel’s, but Storm fell against him when he moved,
“C’mon mon ami, Remy needs anot’er drink.” He tried to get her to lean against the back of the chair, but she just slumped back, her head landing in Remy’s lap.
Had it been any other girl, Remy wouldn’t have minded in the least, but Storm was virtually his sister, having her wriggle around on his lap ‘til she was comfortable was making him rather uncomfortable. By the time she was lying on her back on the bench, with the back of her head pressed into his crotch and her eyes staring up at him, Remy found himself feeling decidedly turned on.
Wolverine stood up, the other x-men took this as a chance to order more drinks, amidst the other shouts, Remy was able to make himself heard,
“Wolvie, anot’er JD an’ coke.” He looked down at Storm to see if she wanted anything, she lightly shook her head, raising the tension in Gambit’s pants.
Ten minutes later a straight JD was slammed down in front of him, Remy was about to complain but decided he didn’t have the energy. He threw half of it back, and then an idea came to him. He dipped his right index finger in the whiskey, then let it drip over Ororo’s lips. She flickered her tongue out to catch the drops, then her eyes caught Remy’s and the night was as good as booked. Remy ran the wet finger over her lips until she sucked it in, licking the whiskey off, then massaging the finger suggestively.
Remy’s head seemed to be buzzing; he could hear Betsy – awake and refreshed, but apparently still somewhat unstable on her feet - and Warren arguing again, an argument that led to them both leaving the table muttering how they were going to ‘sort this out once and for all’. Sam and Bobby had passed out, propped up against each other they both looked totally adorable. No one noticed Jean and Scott had vanished, but they noticed their return, jean stormed from the toilets with a face like thunder, Scott followed looking miserable.
Marital spat Remy thought to himself, he watched Jean as she sat and drank the remainder of Betsy’s wine. Scott had gone straight to the bar.
The bell rang for last orders and they were all outside in the cold waiting for a taxi faster than Remy’s brain could comprehend. He was still holding Storm up, trying to keep her away from where Kitty was puking her guts up, Sam stood next to her looking just as green.
“You’re a fucking success tonight, Slim, aren’t you? I mean what a great idea; let everyone get shit-faced during a perpetual war? Can you actually do anything right?” Jean was seriously angry; Gambit found himself wondering what Scott had done exactly, but was distracted by a tugging on his arm.
“What’re y’ doin’ chere?” He asked, looking at Storm,
“I shall fly home.”
“Can y’ remember where we live?”
Silence.
“Non, I didn’ t’ink so, we’ll jus’ get a taxi wit’ de ot’ers.”
Eventually the taxis turned up. Logan called the first one, taking the front seat, while Gambit, Storm and Kitty got in the back. Kitty promptly passed out, dribbling up the side of the window.
Remy slid an arm around Ororo’s shoulder, letting her rest her head on him. Without thinking, Remy leant forward and started kissing her neck. Storm looked up suddenly.
“Sorry Stormy, I jus’…” He was stopped by her lips on his. He could taste the tequila cocktails, and the fresh mint of lip-balm.
“Mmm,” he pulled away to look into her eyes, “I want you…”
Ororo leaned up and kissed him again, this time Remy allowed the kiss to become more passionate, his hands made their way down her neck, tracing a wavering line along her collarbone and finally reaching the plunging neckline of her elegant black dress.
By the time the taxi pulled up at the gates of the mansion Remy had his hands up the inside of Storm’s dress, stroking her leg, teasingly ignoring the Goddess’s pleas for more. The second the brakes were touched, Logan was out of the car, he paused to open the rear door and grab Kitty, but refused to make eye contact with Remy or Ororo. The pair managed to crawl out of the car, holding each other up, Gambit got his wallet out to pay the cab driver, but the driver explained the firm had a standing order with Chuck.
Having regained a little composure, Storm was able to walk unaccompanied to her room, but this didn’t stop Remy following her. Once inside the elevator that would take them all the way up to the attic, Remy abandoned the last of his control, he wrapped his arms around his friend’s waist and kissed her wildly. Ororo responded, gently squeezing his ass, and pressing her body closer. She pulled away briefly, smiling seductively she gripped the hem of her dress and lifted it up over her head, letting the silk fabric fall to the floor of the elevator. Remy grinned, he was standing in a very confined space with a naked goddess, this was just too good.
There was no department–store ‘ding’ when the elevator reached its destination, just a sort of click, and the doors slid open.
Storm pushed Remy into the room, kissing him passionately all the way. Somehow they found her bed, Remy threw his clothes off and climbed on top of the goddess, the grin never leaving his face. The feeling of her skin pressed so tight against his was like static and so warm.
“Tomorrow…” Storm whispered, the faintest signs of nervousness flickering over her voice.
“Tomorrow’s gonn’ happen Chere,” he broke the eye contact to kiss her neck, “Tonight Remy’s gonn’ make y’ feel so good…”
Storm moaned at the delightful pleasure/pain of Remy biting her neck – there would be an unmistakable mark there tomorrow… But she intended to enjoy tonight. Remy’s fingers played at her nipples, he seemed to know exactly how to touch a woman, then Storm felt his hands move down, touching her navel. Remy looked up for consent.
Ororo couldn’t think of the words, so she took his hand and guided it down. She felt his breath catch when his fingers found their way in.
“Make love to me, Remy. Now.”
Remy removed his hand and slid his erection into the heat, moaning a little, his eyelids flickered open and shut, he pressed his body as close to Storm as possible, his breath was coming out in short hisses, after a moment he began thrusting, only slowly and gently at first, mumbling incoherently.
“Mon Dieu, uh, uhmm…”
His teeth bit into Ororo’s shoulder, he knew he was biting hard, but if he didn’t he was going to scream. He began to push a little deeper, faster and harder. He could feel Storm’s hands on his ass, coaxing him to loosen up.
A somewhat amusing notion was coming to her, Storm shook it away, it couldn’t be true.
She took hold of Remy’s shoulders and rolled him over so that she was on top. If it wasn’t imagination, Storm was sure he looked relieved. Sitting astride him Storm had the perfect view of Remy’s sculptured abs and his beautiful face. As she pumped, Remy reached up to stroke her breasts, his fingers squeezed her nipples at just the right moment, and she threw her head back, crying out as she climaxed, making muscles tighten around Remy’s cock.
“Oh, Mon D- T’encule moi!” It was almost a scream, and suddenly everything was hot and wet. Storm collapsed forwards onto Remy’s chest, they both rolled onto their sides, facing each other, panting.
After a few minutes, Ororo thought it safe to talk.
“Remy,” she started, she paused and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes, “Was that… I mean have you…”
Remy cast his eyes downward,
“Oui, dat was de firs’ time.”
“Look at me.” She commanded, Remy raised his eyes again. “How can that be? Belladonna-”
“Nope, ne’er did it wit’ her.” He looked down, embarrassed? “Ne’er loved Belladonna.”
“Rogue – that time when-”
“Non, she didn’ want to.”
“What about-”
Remy pressed a finger to her lips,
“No one, you de firs’ belle t’ get a piece o’ dis Cajun.”
They shared a bed that night, both knew that in the morning they would act as if nothing had happened. There was no room between them for a relationship; both had their own lives to lead.
And so that was how Storm became the first proverbial notch on Remy’s bedpost.
End of Chapter 1
Chapter 2
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