Title: Wild

Author: eoen

Pairing: Logan/Jean/Scott/Remy

Rating: NC-17

Summary: foursome PWP

Archive: yes, just let me know where.

Email: wedchild@mail.com

Series/Sequel: It appears so.... who could've guessed?Web Page: http://www.yathink.tvheaven.com

Disclaimer: I Don't own 'em.

Warnings: Slash, but nothing beyond that.

Author's Note: The best way to beat a terrorist, I told my muses, was to do what they don't want you to: LIVE!!!!! "The Opposite of War Isn't Peace, It's CREATION!"



Wild
By eoen


Gambit stared at himself in the mirror. He fingered the earring he was still wearing. He wasn't ready to put it in his drawer just yet. The bruises on his throat hadn't faded at all. He shook his head. "What the fuck were you thinkin'?" he asked himself. This was just plain foolishness. "You ain't had a long term relationship in your life, boy," he continued. "The situation with Bella's bad enough. An' Roguie. Lord, Remy, you be a fool." He nodded and the reflection nodded back. But it didn't change the fact that he hadn't been quite so well used in years. And luckily, what with just having gotten back from a mission, Storm hadn't asked the questions that had been in her eyes. But that reprieve would only last so long. What was he supposed to tell her? And if Rogue came back any time soon, he'd just have to, what? He sighed. He didn't have a clue what he was supposed to say. Was it just a one night stand? Jean's claim was more than a little nerve-wracking. He fingered the adamantium "s" again. He closed his eyes and left the bathroom. He flopped across the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

A light knock woke him from the nap he'd been taking. "Oui?" he called. No one came to his room except Storm.

"Hey," Scott said, leaning against the doorframe. "Can I come in?" Remy shrugged.

"Y'r house."

"Not exactly."

"Like, Charles, ain't left it t' y'." Scott ignored that and shut the door after himself. "What y' want, homme?"

"I came to see how you're doing. You were rather quiet at breakfast."

"Hadn' found m' brain by den, cher," Remy drawled. Scott nodded. He settled on the bed without asking.

"You know something?"

"Depends."

"You're not going to be able to push me away." Gambit's eyes fixed on the infuriating red shades.

"What y' talkin' 'bout, Cyke?"

"The bullshit you'll probably start to pull as soon as you're brain catches up with your libido and they have a nice little chat about how quote unquote unworthy, you are to be involved with anyone. And start asking yourself how you could have been stupid enough to give in. And what are you going to do about it. Well, first off you're saying to yourself, we put Summers in his place and let him know that sex doesn't equal obedience… which reminds me, when I say 'duck', I mean 'duck'," he snapped with a frown. "Where was I? Oh, yeah, you were trying to talk yourself out of at least trying to give this a chance. But you know what? You can only push away someone who doesn't use the same tricks. See you at dinner, Rem." Scott left without letting Gambit respond. He heard the smack of something bouncing off the door and grinned. He marked a notch in the air and wandered towards the professor's office.


Jean smiled at Remy and patted the chair next to her. Scott's usual seat. Remy shook his head. Scott caught the thief's collar and sat him down. "Sit. Stay. Good thief." Gambit smoothed his collar and glared at the older man. Scott glanced at Jean and nodded. He retreated to the kitchen where the Chinese boxes were laid out. He transferred them into the formal dishes for transport to the dining room. It was Sunday after all, and the professor refused to let them out of Sunday dinner just because they'd had a battle.

Jean ran a finger along the earring. //Let me in, please.// Remy sighed, but lowered his shields enough for her to link to his mind, then closed them around the link. He didn't want the professor listening in. Xavier looked over at them curiously, but didn't ask. //That's better, Honey.//

//Y'r as bad as Logan wit' his 'darlin's'.//

//Why don't you like endearments, *cher*?//

//Because you don' know what I'm sayin' den. "Cher" be more like Pete callin' y' "mate".// He sensed her surprise. //Y' really dink I'd call Logan 'dear'? He don' like it, even knowin' what it means.//

//Because it makes him hard, Remy,// Jean contradicted impatiently. //Listen, Scott thinks you're angsting over things. I'm not going to let that happen. Do you understand, young man?//

//It jus' be some fun we had one night, non? Why Remy angst over dat?//

//It was more than that. You know it, and so do I. Don't try to push any of us away. We are all more stubborn than you will ever believe.// She fingered the earring again, with a smirk of pride. //We won fair and square, Cajun. You are ours.//

//Now, chere, ain't no one said not'in' about us bein' a set. Never. Dat ain't what…// he trailed off.

//Bullshit.// Jean's voice was cheerful. //You can feel what we feel. Did it *feel* like Logan was kidding around when he gave you this?// She ran a finger over the bruise. Her fingers trailed across his neck. //Or when Scott bit you here?// The thief studied the knife on the table. He thought there was a water spot on the blade. He rubbed at it with the cloth napkin. He wished that he were sitting next to Storm, questions or no questions. He glanced over at his sister. Her eyes were twinkling.

//Y' didn't!//

//Of course I told Storm. Did you really think I wouldn't? We were best friends long before you adopted each other.// Remy put his face in his hands to hide his blush. Jean snickered softly. He looked a hell of a lot like Scott when he did things like that. He caught the thought.

//Dat's y'r fault, Jeannie. Dis is what y' do t' a man. Merde, m' head. Y' know dat woman's a gossip.// Remy glanced at Hank who was talking to Bobby. They didn't seem to know or care. Betsy's smile was speculative and when she met his eyes, she winked. Warren frowned at her, but seemed to be as clueless as usual. Logan was his usual self and that was vaguely comforting. Scott had taken Remy's usual seat between Logan and Storm and was now discussing something having to do with the new greenhouse they were putting up. Xavier at the head of the table watched him from the corner of his eye. Xavier tapped his glass and led them in filling up the plates.

//They don't care, Remy. It's not their life either. And she hasn't told anyone. She wants your side of the story first.//

//Jeannie, I'm married.//

//Oh, and you are ever so faithful,// she accused sharply. Remy winced at the tone. He poked at his lo mein suspiciously. "Just eat it. Scott didn't cook it after all." Logan snorted. Scott frowned.

"I'm not going to poison you, Gambit," Scott told him.

"Right. Y' still gonna kill m'." Hank, Bobby and Warren, looked at Scott in time to see the flash of a calculating grin.

"Oh, but you won't know I'm coming." Gambit's lips twitched.

"Gambit jus' loves challenges," he purred back.

"Boys," Jean warned. //Don't feed me the married line. So am I. So's Scott.//

//Oui, but I don' see Belle in de bed.//

//Or Rogue?//

//Dat was cruel, Jean,// Remy told her as he tasted the food on his plate. It wasn't even all that cold. How impressive. Scott was finally learning how to at least present food.

//Remy, you and she were just bad for one another.//

//Jeannie, fuck off.// Remy shut his shields tight and she scowled.

"Fine," she told him. "I'll just let Logan talk to you about *her*." Logan glanced at them. The rest of the table looked away. Professor Charles Xavier stared at Jean. She seemed to wilt. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Don' try lyin' t' m', Jeannie." Storm had never heard Remy quite so cold. "Rogue an' I ain't none of y' business. Leave it alone." Bobby looked sadly at the Cajun. Remy summoned up a small smile for the compassion that Bobby was exuding. Bobby had been the only witness to the nastiness that had been their break-up. The Iceman smiled back at him.

"I heard Storm say that she was going to die her hair to match the rainbow she saw yesterday," he announced in the small silence that had fallen on the group.

"Robert! I said no such thing," Storm protested immediately. The rest of dinner went more smoothly.


In the den, Remy was studiously ignoring Jean who was trying to get him to talk to her about what movie to watch. In the end she slumped into the corner of the couch and turned on _Gone_with_the_Wind_. Logan snorted. "Hey, Cajun, ya up fer a spar?"

"Bring it on, Old Man." Logan pulled Remy to his feet. They made their way to the Danger Room. Remy pulled off his trench. Logan grinned.

"Takin' off yer armor. I'm impressed." Remy rolled his eyes. "Hand to hand. And no tryin' to blow up my claws again, Kid."

"Oui, M. Logan," Remy said with a deep sigh. He stretched up and back onto his toes, twisting his spine. Logan didn't bother to hide the interest in his eyes. The Cajun winked at him as he settled back down. He gestured to the mat covered center of the room. "Dis is so boring. How 'bout we make things a bit more interestin'?"

"We ain't doin' this in that warehouse." Remy sighed.

"Fine," he said. He wondered if he should actually try pouting. He decided against it.

"Come on, Darlin'."

"Stop dat! Connard," Gambit muttered.

"Watch the mouth, Cajun," Wolverine warned. He resisted the temptation to pop out a claw in warning. He bowed to his opponent. Remy did the same, but with a bit more of a flourish, as was his usual style. It worked better with the trench on, but in hand to hand the coat would be more of a hindrence if he couldn't use his powers. Logan gave Remy a small nod as he took a defensive position. He invited the first blow. He blocked it easily, as the younger man had expected. The tempo of the blows increased, until they were fighting almost wildly. "Stop holdin' back, *Darlin'*." Gambit's next blow was what Logan was looking for, a full out attack. There was no need for the Cajun to pull his blows. His healing factor would heal the bruises that would stun a normal man. The thief danced out of the way of Logan's fists. He knew the blows would be pulled, but it was better not to be hit at all. The blur of motion finally stopped, when Wolverine caught Gambit with a move he'd never used before. He slowed the younger man's descent with one arm. "Snap. Yer dead."

"Merde."

"Ya wanna see it slower?"

"Oui, merci." Gambit flipped to his feet. He watched Logan go through the motion. He frowned. "So t' counter, I should turn here?" he asked, pacing out the footwork. Wolverine considered. He shook his head.

"Step further in, not further out." Gambit blinked, then nodded.

"Catch de blow higher on de leg?" he asked.

"Yep. Walk through it." They walked through it several times at slow speed. "Ready to try it?"

"I dink so. Y' go easy on dis po' boy?" Logan snorted.

"Not a chance, Darlin'." The crimson eyes flashed. "Okay. Start." The counter worked and Logan was rewarded by one of Remy's rare, real smiles.

"Cool." Logan blinked.

"Want a beer?" he asked, filing away his questions for later.

"Oui, I could use a drink." Logan grinned and tossed over the duster.

"Yer gonna need this. It's gettin' cold out at night now."

"I hate de fall," Remy sighed. "Dis place just gets too damned cold."

"Good thing ya got us to keep ya warm now." Remy was very quiet. He didn't object to the gentle brush of fingers against his arm. "Thought ya might need to talk about that. Come on. I'll get the beer. We'll slip on out where no one'll hear." Remy nodded. They didn't say anything more until they reached the clearing. Remy took to his usual perch. The sun was setting. The sky was flooded with red light. Logan shook his head.

"Come down here, kid. I ain't gonna get a crink in my neck from lookin' up at ya." Gambit rolled his eyes and jumped down to settle on the ground next to the Canadian at the foot of the tree. "Ya don't get it do ya?"

"Get what?"

"That last night weren't just some fluke." Remy took a gulp of beer.

"Logan, cher, I ain't I don't" he said gesturing randomly at the trees as he lost the words he was looking for. Logan put his arm over the younger man's shoulder and pulled him close.

"What did Jeannie say that pissed ya off at dinner?"

"Tryin' t' tell Gambit dat Rogue ain't good f' him. Tol' her it weren't none of her business."

"Maybe it is and maybe it ain't. Thing is, Gumbo, do ya love Rogue? I mean really love her." Remy opened his mouth, but Logan put a finger to his lips. "No, don't answer yet. I want ya to think about it fer a few." As the silence lengthened, Gambit settled his head on Logan's shoulder. "Well?" Logan said after about ten minutes.

"I ain't sure no more." Logan gave him a one armed squeeze.

"Talk it out fer me, then."

"Weren't more'n fun in de beginnin'. Rogue be de best type of femme, de one y' can't never catch. Mon Bella, she were de same way. De daughter of mon pere's biggest rival. An' I won her, non? Dought mebbe I win Roguie. An' Raven talked about her some. An' she were lonely. I dought dat I'd be able t' make her smile, non? Jus' a lil' light flirtin'. Den, I fell f' her. Fell hard. Merde. Just de smallest smile an' it was like havin' a flash of lightenin' across m' heart. Dat was before de worst of de fights started. I love her, Logan, but it hurts so bad. Ended up talkin' t' Hank a couple of times. In confidence. Didn' want anyone t' know dat our fights were more'n just yellin' sometimes." Remy fiddled with the bottle in his hand. "An' den we started de break up, back t'get'er, break up, ding. Sometimes I can' remember wet'er we're fightin' or not. And dere ain't no make-up sex or not'in'." Remy sighed. "An' Seattle was bad. It was de worst break up we ever had. An' I don' know if dere's anyt'in' left t' salvage. An' I don' know as I've got de energy t' try no more. De tears outweigh de smiles sometimes. An' it feels like I’m goin' crazy inside cuz I love her, cher. I do. But I don' like her all dat much."

"Rem," Logan asked gently, "Ya ever had a sister?"

"Ro."

"That's what I thought. Ya got a brother right?"

"Had." Logan winced.

"With Henri, didja ever have days that ya didn't like him?"

"Plenty."

"Ya still loved him?"

"He's de only brot'er I got. An' his wife, she's de closest I got t' a sister." Logan nodded.

"Didja ever fight with Henri like ya fight with Rogue?"

"Non. Would never go dat far. Wouldn't never hurt" Gambit pulled away from the loose embrace.

"Hurt him? Cuz ya don't hurt people ya love?" Remy nodded. "Here's the real question, kid. Yer an empath. What's she feel when she looks at ya? Close yer eyes and think about it. Does she feel like yer wife did on yer weddin' day?" Remy bit his lip, but closed his eyes.

"Confused."

"And?"

"Scared."

"And?"

"Resentful, and grateful, and disgusted, and sad, and amused, and" A single tear tracked down Gambit's cheek. "Ain't not'in' but a lil' touch of lust," he whispered. He let Logan gather him back into his arms. He clung to the older man as he bundled up his memories of Rogue and pushed them to the back of his mind. He hesitantly touched Logan's shields.

"Go ahead, Darlin'," Logan whispered. Remy probed and was shocked by what he found. His arms tightened reflexively. Logan was expecting tears, but didn't get any. That worried him.

"Logan, why" Remy whispered. "Ain' wort' dat kinda worry, cher. Or dat kinda care. Don'"

"Shut up, LeBeau," Logan told him. He shook his head. "Yer definitely worth all of it and more. Ya just don't get it often enough." He pushed his love and affection to the front of his mind and felt the younger man melt. The tears finally came then.

"S'over wit' Roguie ain't it?" Remy asked. Logan rocked gently.

"Yeah, Rem, it is. But it ain't the end of lovin' and ya know that. Can ya fergive Rogue fer hurtin' ya? Can ya give us a chance? Or is there too much hurt?"

"I'll try," Remy whispered. "I ain't all dat good in de relationship department dough."

"Don't worry, kid. Ya ain't the only skittish colt me and Jeannie've trained."

"De two of y' don' stop comparin' Gambit t' Cyke, he's gonna have t' do somet'in' drastic."

"He'll try," Logan told him. "But we ain't gonna just let ya go. I think Red's probably got an apology fer ya. Scott was gonna talk to her." Remy snickered.

"He lecture her too?"

"He's still Cyclops, no matter if he is her husband. He's damn good at separatin' the two."

"So he don't always give orders in the bedroom?" He looked up at Logan. He blinked. "Y' blushin', cher? Y' are! Mon Dieu." Remy started to laugh. He couldn't stop it once it started. Logan just stayed still and held him.

"Better, Darlin'?"

"Oui."


Remy was combing out his wet hair when Jean tapped on his door. "Entrez. Bon nuit, Jean." He was in one of his more disreputable pairs of jeans with a towel around his shoulders. She settled on the window seat.

"Remy, I'm sorry about what happened at dinner," she told him. He snorted. "I shouldn't have snapped at you about Rogue." Remy carefully braided his hair. "If you love her, I can't tell you to stop. But, Remy," He looked up at her. "I refuse to continue to watch you get hurt for no good reason. Love shouldn't hurt."

"Right, chere," Remy drawled. "Love hurts more'n anyt'in'. De ones y' love know how t' twist y' up int' knots and leave y' bleedin'."

"I didn't realize you were so bitter about it." She sat down next to him. "I didn't mean to hurt you." She hesitantly wrapped one arm around his waist.

"I know dat." He blotted the end of the tail. He reached for his sweatshirt and Jean gasped at the scars on his back. She hadn't really noticed them the night before. "Don' worry. De shower makes dem stand out. Dey'll fade in a few minutes." She stopped him from putting on his shirt and traced them with her fingers. She laid a gentle kiss against what she assumed was a knife wound. He shivered and moved away from the touch.

"Who did this to you?" she asked.

"We ain't talkin' about dat, chere." Jean kissed his temple and wrapped her arms around him. He felt her distress and turned into the embrace, soothing it the only way he knew how, with touch. Jean blinked when she realized he was wearing gloves.

"Remy?"

"Oui?"

"When did you pick up Rogue's habit of wearing gloves?"

"Ain't from her," he said. He didn't elaborate and Jean didn't push. She put it down to being a thief and let it go. She settled back a bit.

"Am I forgiven?" she asked in a little girl voice.

"Remy ain't never heard y' use dat tone of voice, chere. Y' pull dat out on Scotty a lot?"

"It works for him. Does it work for you?" She batted her lashes and put on a pout. Remy's lips twitched.

"Y' need t' work on dat pout. Y' need t' have your lips parted just a lil' bit like y'r gonna burst int' tears." Jean snickered.

"You practice pouting?"

"Have y' ever seen m' not get m' way when I pout?" Jean thought about that. She shook her head. "Den y' take Remy's advice." She rearranged her lips.

"Am I?"

"Oui, Jeannie. Can't stay mad at a belle femme. Never could. An' y' weren't all wrong, Jean," he admitted. "Rogue an' m' had good times, but dere were a lot of bad. I'm sorry I…" Jean put a finger to his lips. She shook her head.

"Not everything in the world is your fault. No matter what it feels like up here." She tapped his forehead. "And you will let me train you. You can't keep absorbing what people throw out at you. You'll go insane. And I'm not letting anyone self-destruct on my watch." Remy rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, Gambit."

"Fine, Phoenix. But y' keep dat cue ball headed bastard away from m'."

"Why don't you like him?"

"Why do y' care? We got a difference of opinion. De man ain' gonna control m', like he brainwashed all of y'all." Jean blinked. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't take it out on y'. Let's leave it at us havin' differences, oui?"

"All right. I won't pry. Tonight at least. You'll come down to the boathouse with me for a nightcap, won't you?"

"Jean."

"Come on. Just one won't hurt."

"I was plannin' on…"

"Spending the night out playing with one of your pet bimbos?" Remy blinked. Jean fingered the earring he still wore. She shook her head. "Come on back with me." She pressed her hand to his cheek, feeling smooth skin instead of stubble for once. He looked at her for a long moment, and she begged him without a word. He felt her regret and desire and felt himself nod. He put on his shirt. Jean rolled her eyes. Then, he put on his coat and located a baseball cap from under a pile of magazines in the corner of his closet and tucked his hair under it. She raised a brow.

"Tante'd hide m' if'n she found m' goin' out in dis kind of weat'er wit' wet hair. Ain' y' gonna put on a jacket or somet'in'?"

"Some of us actually have blood circulation. Besides, I expect you to give up your coat like a gentleman." He rolled his eyes and grabbed a windbreaker from his closet and handed it to her. "How practical."

"Ain't gonna catch cold f' y' when y' got two perfectly good men at home t' steal clothes from."

"And who let you in on that little woman's secret? I'm going to have to kill her in the name of protecting the better half of the species."

"Good luck. Her name's somet'in' like Raven… Darkpath… non, Darkspirit?… non… Darkholme. Dat's it." Jean poked him in the side.

"Not funny."

"Weren't kiddin'." Remy offered her his arm.


Scott laughed at Jean. "Couldn't convince him to hand over the duster?" He held out his hand. She scowled and stuffed the IOU into his hand. Remy raised a brow. Scott just shrugged and gleefully tore up the IOU. One less chore for the chore jar. Jean scowled.

"And Storm assured me that he was a gentleman."

"Dat don' mean I'm an idiot." Gambit leaned against the wall next to the door. Jean closed and locked it. He looked at her in surprise.

"I'm not letting you disappear on us." She unzipped the jacket. "Thanks for the jacket at least. I was thinking that you were going to make me suffer."

"Dere's more'n one way t' do dat," he muttered darkly. She shot him a startled glance and he batted his lashes at him. "Raven tol' Remy all sorts of dings when he was a pup."

"Mystique got her claws in ya?" Logan asked in surprise.

"Non, she hired m'. I'm one of de best." Remy shrugged. "Dat's why Fearless here was willin' t' keep Gambit in de first place." Jean and Logan both stared at the field leader.

"What?" Scott said defensively. "How did you think we got blueprints without the professor?" Logan shook his head.

"Have to admit, I didn't think about that." He snorted. "Coffee, beer or somethin' stronger?"

Remy shrugged. "Coffee… wait, who made it?"

"I did," Scott admitted.

"Beer," Remy changed his order.

"I think I'm hurt." Remy smiled at him. He patted the older man's shoulder.

"Don' worry. I'll teach y' t' make real coffee."

"No ya won't. Some of us want to be able to drink it." Remy shook his head.

"Y' make it too weak, cher."

"But I don't need to put have a mug of milk into his coffee," Jean pointed out. She held out her hand for Gambit's coat. He handed it to her, along with the cap. He felt his hair.

"Well, it ain't frozen at least," he said idly. "It's crooked though."

"You were distracted," Jean offered. She curled her hand around Remy's arm and urged him into the living room. "I'll go help Logan with a midnight snack." Remy settled on the couch. He wasn't surprised when Scott settled next to him, offering a warm shoulder to curl up on. He took advantage of the offer. They didn't say a word, just sat there, staring at the cold fireplace.

Jean and Logan came back with drinks and a bowl of popcorn. Remy looked up at Scott. "She always snacky in de evenin'?"

"Yes."

"Merde. No wonder y' need Logan around."

"Hey!" Jean protested. Remy bared his teeth at her, secure that with Scott between them she couldn't do anything too drastic.

"Exactly," Scott nodded. He flinched away from the swat on his arm. Reflexively, he tightened his grip around the thief. Gambit let himself be tucked in closer. It was like being protected. They talked about nothing at all really for awhile.

Then, Logan asked out of the blue, "When's yer birthday, Gumbo?"

"Why?" he asked curiously.

"Because Jubes'll never let me alone unless I promise her she can plan the party."

"No parties," Remy said flatly. Scott's arm tightened.

"Rem?"

"No parties. I ain't de birthday party type."

"Why not?" Jean asked.

"Because I don' know m' birthday and I don' celebrate it," he snapped. He curled further under Scott's arm. He knew he was sulking. He knew it was stupid and that they meant no harm.

"Your records say January 1."

"Like de ponies," Remy said softly. "Don' know m' birthday. M' parents didn' exactly leave a note when de left m' on de streets." He pulled away from the protective embrace. He couldn't handle the influx of feelings that Scott emitted. Logan blinked.

"But yer pop…"

"Jean-Luc took Remy in when he was ten," he told them, looking at his beer as if it held the answers to everything.

"I never knew you were adopted," Scott told him. He caught Remy's hand and kissed the back of it. It was odd to feel fabric and not skin beneath his lips, but Remy melted against Scott anyway. "We'll talk about it another time, okay?"

"D'Accord," Remy whispered. He let the sound of Scott's heartbeat beneath his ear soothe him. Logan decided to give Jubilee the green light for planning. He could always veto anything too excessive.

"How old are you?" Jean asked, suddenly realizing she didn't know.

"Somewhere 'round 22, give or take." Remy shrugged. Scott dropped a kiss onto the wild bangs. "We done wit' de interrogation?"

"Of course," Jean answered. "We just keep finding out that there's things we don't know about you."

"And dere's lots y' never will," Gambit told her firmly.

"Like the scars?"

"Oui."

"Scars?" Scott asked.

"On his back."

"Oh, those." Scott waved his hand dismissively.

"You've seen them?" Jean said surprised.

"Jean, we have locker rooms." She smacked her forehead.

"I feel like such an idiot." Remy snickered. "Shush, you." He snapped at the finger she waved at him. "Just because Scott's got you, doesn't mean you're safe from me." She lunged for him and caught his ribs with her fingers. He laughed. Scott caught his wrists to give Jean better access.

"Two against one ain't fair!" Remy gasped.

"Nope," Scott told him. "But you like it." The way the younger man didn't break the light restraining grip told Scott he was right.

"Logan! Help!" Remy begged. Wolverine grinned and added his fingers in a counter-point assault. "Help *me* not dem! Mercy. Mercy." Gambit pleaded. He was rewarded with soothing strokes across his stomach from Logan, while Jean kissed him. Remy wanted to hold her to him, but Scott's grip on his wrists tightened when he reached for her. He licked his lips when she pulled back, tasting the sharpness that was Jean's essence. His eyes were half-closed. He gazed up from under his lashes at her. "Gonna make y' pay, chere," he purred. She smiled.

"If Scott lets you," she winked.

"We might be able to reach and agreement," Scott whispered into Remy's ear. He folded the younger man's arms into a self-hug. Remy tucked his head under Scott's chin. Logan knew the grin on his face was sappy. They just looked so damned *cute.* Scott spoke softly into Remy's ear. Logan had to strain to hear it, enhanced hearing regardless. "You want to fuck her through the bed," he purred. Remy nodded. "If I let you do that, what do I get?" Remy shifted and pressed his mouth to Scott's throat.

"Whatever y' want, cher," he whispered. He pressed a kiss to the skin beneath his lips.

"I'll hold you to that." With a final squeeze, Scott let him loose. Instead of moving away, the younger man straddled Scott's legs and kissed him. He explored Scott's mouth leisurely. Jean licked her lips as Gambit wrapped his arms around Scott's throat and Scott's arms wrapped around the thief's waist and offered support. Logan brushed his fingers across the back of Jean's neck. She shivered. She turned at Logan's prompting to receive a gentle kiss. "Ya need to get ready, Darlin'?" he asked her. She shook her head and leaned in for another kiss.

Remy let the emotions wash over him, lust, and laughter, and love. He rested his head against Scott's shoulder and Scott decided to darken the bruise he'd left the night before. Gambit whimpered but arched into Scott's not-so-gentler mouth. He heard Jean gasp and glanced over to see Logan's hands under her shirt. Logan's voice was rough and low. "Yer nearly ready, Jeannie. I can smell it on ya. What do ya need, Red?"

She chewed at her lip. "Anything," she whispered franticly. "Please?" She writhed under the familiar caress. Remy reached out the stroke her cheek. His fingers trembled as she turned into the caress and kissed his palm. She took hold of his hand and carefully pulled off the glove. She looked up as the tiniest whisper of fear touched her shields. But the feeling was gone and Logan's hands were sliding down and into the front of her jeans.

Scott gently released Gambit's throat. He watched as Remy pulled Jean into a deep, wet kiss. He admired the twist of spine that kept Remy in his lap. Jean leaned forward eagerly. Logan used her distraction to open her pants and start them down her legs. Her hips moved up for him. She touched Gambit's shield, but he kept her locked out.

Scott ran his fingers firmly up Remy's sides, under his sweatshirt, counting ribs with his thumbs. Logan carefully slid Jean's panties off of her. She assisted by shifting to her knees. She pulled Gambit closer, forcing him to trust Scott's support. Logan moved to Gambit next. He laid his palm against the denim clad erection and Gambit's hips shifted towards the touch. Scott snickered gently as Logan popped a claw.

He cut away the torn jeans. The kiss silenced any complaints. Scott held firmly, as did Jean, while Logan rolled the condom down Gambit's shaft. The thief whimpered, but Jean ignored it She moved Scott's closest arm up and away with her mind and straddled Remy, letting her kiss become more feral. Gambit responded by biting her tongue and lips. He slid his hands down her body to her hips.

Jean tilted her hips and seated Gambit's cock insider herself. Remy broke the kiss to moan against her shoulder. She pulled at his sweatshirt. Logan helped her remove it. Remy shook his head in denial as Logan took away the remaining glove. Scott's hands worked to unbutton and remove Jean's shirt.

Remy lapped at her now exposed breasts. She writhed. Gambit's hands prevented her from starting the rhythm that would satisfy both of them. She dug her nails into his back as her fingers tensed on his shoulders. He ignored the sensation. He lifted a hand to cradle Scott's cheek. Establishing a link with that brief touch, he leaned back briefly against Logan who settled supporting arms along Remy's legs. Logan pressed a kiss to the small of Remy's back. Remy used that touch to link with Logan.

The empathic touch was so light against their shields that the two men didn't really notice it. Scott was too overwhelmed by the action taking place in his lap. He couldn't keep from stroking any flesh he could find. He rested his hands briefly on Logan's wrists and felt the escalating throb of blood against his sensitized fingertips.

Finally, Remy began to move. He reflected Jean's rising passion to Logan and Scott, absorbing and reflecting their reactions back to Jean and one another. She rose and fell on his cock in time to his thrusts. He let her move towards her crest. Then, very deliberately, as she was ever so close, he held her tight to his thrust. She moaned deep in her throat. Her fingers spasmed as he let down his shields and they climaxed together. Through sheer force of will, Scott kept himself form being pulled along with them. Logan didn't bother and surrendered. He leaned his forehead against Gambit's back and contemplated the wet spot on the front of his jeans.

Jean collapsed back against her husband. After a few minutes of hazy bliss, she realized she was gently being laid onto the couch. Remy slid to his knees in front of Scott without prompting. He used his teeth to open the zipper of Scott's fly.

He carefully lapped at the leaking head and Scott's eyes closed. He stroked Gambit's hair, enjoying the feel of wet silk beneath his fingers. The thief lapped and nipped his way up the hard shaft. He knew instinctively when to slow down to prolong the activity. Scott's breath was coming in desperate gasps when Remy engulfed his cock in hot, wet warmth. Scott's fingers spasmed, clutching Gambit to the task. The faintest scrape of teeth made a shiver run through Cyclops' limbs. He made a small noise of urgent need and Remy obliged by increasing the pace of his rhythm. Helplessly enraptured, Scott came, unaware of his tight, but not unwelcome grip on Gambit's hair.

Remy swallowed the bitter juice almost greedily. He cleaned the expended member as Scott continued to hold him place. Slowly, the grip relaxed. Remy licked hi lips and leaned against the couch. He yelped as the antiseptic touched his back. "Merde!" He squirmed. Logan's hand held the back of his neck. "Dat stings," he complained.

"Yer gonna whine worse if they get infected. Ya broke the skin, Jeannie."

"Ooops," she said. She didn't move or open her eyes.

"Better wash up before the kid screams abuse." Remy snickered. He tried to twist out of the grip, but couldn't. Logan kissed the young man's spine. Remy bit his lip. He let Logan finish cleaning the nail marks on his back. "Better move this party upstairs." Remy nodded.

Logan carried Jean up to the bedroom. Remy cleared away the things in the living room with Scott's laconic help. Scott considered extended kissing as part of his helping. And Remy made all sorts of interesting noises when you kissed him in odd places like the inside of his wrist or his shoulder blade. By the time all the dishes were in the kitchen, there was a flush on Remy's skin. Scott's smile was smug. His hands traced random patterns over Remy's over-heated skin. He ushered him up the stairs.

Scott was truly overdressed in Logan's opinion. "Strip, boy," he growled in Scott's ear. Scott's eyes widened. He couldn't get rid of his cloths fast enough. Logan pressed a searing kiss to his lips. Jean tapped on Gambit's shields and he let her in.

//Y' know. If someone'd tol' m' 'bout Logan's techniques, I'd've tumbled him a long time ago.//

//He wouldn't have settled for less than your heart.//

//But now it don' matter?//

//Are you trying to tell me you don't think you're in love with him?// She snickered and Remy scowled at her.

//Jeannie, I ain't in love wit' any of y'. Not even Logan. Dough I admit dat we're friends.//

//---// Remy could sense her frustration. //Remy, we'll have to talk about this?//

//Later?//

//Yes. Later.// Remy fiddled absently with the earring. Scott was pressing a line of kisses down Logan's sternum.

//Good.// He gave her a leer and a wink and she smiled. She put out her hand and he went to her side.

//I'm sorry about your back.//

//It ain't a problem, chere.// He kissed her hand. Logan set Scott's hands on his shoulders and proceeded to drive him wild with teeth and tongue and lips. Scott was begging Logan to suck him or fuck him, anything. Logan guided his steps to the bed. Jean spread her leg and Logan whispered low, "Lick her." Scott settled between her open legs. Logan held him down until Jean was moaning and Scott was light-headed. Logan bent to suck on Scott's once again erect cock. Scott redoubled his efforts. Remy watched, eyes at half-mast. Jean's TK shove towards Logan's cock didn't surprise him. The proud erection was begging to be touched.

Jean's control was incredible, Remy had to admit. She didn't force anything on him, even though he'd let her into his mind. He took Logan into his mouth and the Canadian's hand clamped firmly against the back of Remy's neck. Logan's grip prevented him from pursuing his usual teasing. Jean's mouth closed around Remy's cock and he bucked, no expecting the feel of her mouth.

The circuit was complete. Logan's pace drove Scott's, whose tongue set Jean's pace. Jean affected Remy who affected Logan. The pace spiraled up and down without logic or reason. Jean climaxed first, setting off a chain reaction. And slowly, as they recovered, Jean cuddled into the pillows. Scott crawled up onto her body. Logan sprawled along the bottom of the bed. Remy curled up on his side, face obscured by his arm that blocked out the light.


FINIS