Title: Tags From A Tainted Past (Honestly couldn't think of a better title…)
Genre: Romance/Angst (More Romance than Angst.)
Pairing: James Logan (Wolverine)/Remy Lebeau (Gambit) (As are all of my stories.)
Movie: X-Men Origins: Wolverine (Seriously, best movie…EVER. Can't wait to buy it.)
Warnings: Spoilers from the film. Some language. Fluff. Mild angst. That's all I can think of.
Overall Story Rating: Mature, even though the sex scene is skipped. (Once again, how could I?) XD
Author's Notes: This is a plot that has been swimming around in my head all during school today. I could hardly wait until I got home to write it. There is a scene or two from the movie incorporated into this story; so some of the same dialogue is used. Those who have seen the movie will know what is the dialogue I used from the film, and the dialogue that just came out of my own head. Since I couldn't find the scene where Logan just got finished fighting Fred Dukes; the dialogue from that scene is entirely made up…but I am trying to keep it as close to the original dialogue…that I can actually remember from seeing the movie a few months back. The scene from the…club(?) in Louisiana has some of the dialogue from the movie in it, and then I pretty much just go off on my own. Once again, those who have seen it know where that point begins. I guess that is enough from me for now…positive feedback is much appreciated. Flames will be laughed at (and eventually stressed out over…). Thanks! Enjoy.
Tags From A Tainted Past
"His name is Remy Lebeau."
It came out as a sputter from Fred Dukes; who was now laying helplessly on the ground with Logan towering over him. Said mutants claws ripped right through the boxing gloves and was now staring him in the face; threatening to tear him a new one. "Where can I find `em?" Logan fisted his hand in Fred's shirt and yanked him into an upright position with all the strength he had. It wasn't an easy task to accomplish with Fred's incredible weight, but Logan managed without showing a sign of struggle.
"H-He's in Louisiana. I don't know anymore, I swear..!" Fred babbled insistently. He was in no position to be lying to Logan. There was no doubt in his mind that if Logan returned empty handed, it was his ass. Logan stepped off him and paced back and forth in the boxing ring, angrily removing the gloves and letting his claws sink slowly back into his skin. As the small wounds began to knit back together, John helped Fred up, then patting him affectionately on the back. Fred had been awfully cocky about winning, and his ego was completely crushed when Logan was non-verbally proclaimed the victor in the brawl.
"How will I know which one is him?" Logan looked at 'The Blob', the snarl on his face softening. At least he got one answer, even though he had to get his hands dirty first.
"He's a gambler…well known around those parts. You can ask anyone, they probably know him." Fred explained, leaning back against the corner padding. "And I'm guessing that he ain't gonna do nothin' unless ya got some cash on ya." he finished as he removed his own boxing gloves, John taking them away and teleporting over to the locker.
Logan slipped out his wallet. That was the last thing that he wanted to hear. "What do ya think he'll do fer…seventeen bucks?" He put his wallet back into his pocket.
Fred managed a small laugh. "He'll tell ya that he can't help ya."
Logan growled in the back of his throat and ran a hand through his tussled hair in frustration. "When I get there I'll figure somethin' out." he insisted and jumped over the ropes and out of the ring, grabbing his jacket on his way out.
A few blocks back, Logan had no choice but to abandon his motorcycle. It was ridiculous how crowded Bourbon Street was; even though Logan didn't expect much else. Both men and women were drunk off their asses, lingering around the bars our just out in the street, attempting to dance at the loud music that was blaring through the speakers that aligned the road. It was hell to Logan's sensitive ears. The drunkards were invading his personal space and getting far too comfortable. He made an effort to shove some of them away, making them stumble briefly before going back to partying.
Logan stepped into one of the many bars on the avenue; waitresses in skimpy outfits walking past him carrying a tray of drinks that could have only been alcoholic beverages. The scent of rum, gin, vodka, and smoke hit him like a wave. Dozens of tables were scattered around the establishment, a jazz band was currently playing a song that was being drowned out by the shouting and laughter of their audience (if they were really paying attention to it). The whole atmosphere was exactly as Logan pictured Louisiana to be.
His eyes slowly scanned the bar, having to decline an offer to dance in the process. A light smirk tugged at the corners of his lips when he spotted cards flying through the air before landing back in the dealers hand; following by a small course of women cheering over the magnificence of the trick. It was a card trick that Logan had never seen before, and knew that no normal human could master it; regardless of how skilled might have been.
Even though Fred hadn't said he was a show-off, it was obvious that this guy was the person he was looking for. These skills must have been how everyone in the area knew him.
Logan walked over to the crowded table, having to nudge his way past some of the men and women that were in his way. Remy's reputation for winning must've been good; no one was sitting in front of him. The obnoxious shuffling of the cards was daring anyone to come and play him. It was apparent he was no rookie and would take some serious luck to beat him. Though, Logan wasn't one to back down from anything. Maybe this could have been his opportunity to earn some money---perhaps even enough to bribe Remy for a service. He was now on the opposing side of the table, waiting for the women to quiet down before he spoke. "Are you Remy Lebeau?"
The shuffling stopped and Remy turned his head slightly, eyes still fixated on the cards in his hands. He didn't recognize the voice, but it was only natural that he forget someone he perhaps beat in poker sometime or another. "Do I owe y' money?" he asked smoothly, an irresistible smirk on his face.
"No." Logan stared at him intently, arching a thick brow.
There was a brief pause before Remy removed his hat and leaned forward. The light dangling above the table proudly showed off his stunning good looks; something you wouldn't be able to tell thanks to the offending hat. He had auburn hair that came almost down to his shoulders, high cheekbones, supple lips that shown a perfect smile when parted. The trait that stood out the most was those piercing red on black eyes. That must've been why he wore the hat and kept his gaze down-turned until he realized exactly who he was speaking with. Logan didn't understand why for a couple of reasons. One, they were incredibly beautiful; and two, most of the people here probably wouldn't even notice thanks to how heavily intoxicated they were. "Then Remy Lebeau I am." He gestured to the vacant seat in front of him.
Logan took the offer and sat down silently while Remy proceeded to shuffle the deck, his gaze turned back down to his hands. "Large blinds a hundred. Small blinds fifty. May I deal y' in?" he asked, a slight glint in his striking iris's.
Those bets were way out of his league, but he decided he would go ahead and propose something else if he wanted to get any kind of game. He raised his brows and then pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "What can ya get fer seventeen bucks?" Those that were around the table stifled a laugh.
"Seventeen dollars?" A soft chuckle slipped from Remy's lips. Leaning back in his chair he glanced briefly to the crowd, acknowledging that they had every reason to laugh. Everyone around here should have been aware that he didn't play for cheap. "A cab ride home, perhaps."
Logan shrugged and removed the money from his wallet. "Well it's all I got. Take it 'r leave it." He tossed it to the center of the table, having a feeling that Remy wouldn't be able to deny any sum of money from what Fred told him. Apparently the only way to convince him to do anything would be to bribe him with money.
Remy kept the smile on his lips as his nimble fingers began to deal out the cards. "Suppose we can work wid it somehow, homme." he said, a slight hint of amusement in his tone. Once they both reached five, Remy looked at his hand, the expression on his face not giving away what he had been dealt. "How many?"
As Logan discarded two in his hand, Remy slid over two new ones. He just replaced one and a slow smile spread over his face. "What y' got?" The women behind Remy all smiled and giggled, mumbling sweet-nothings directed to him under their breaths.
"Full house*." Logan replied and set down his cards. The ray of hope he had towards winning was completely clouded when Remy revealed his hand. The highest one in the entire game.
"Royal flush*," Remy grabbed the bills from the center of the table and shoved them into his pocket, a smug smile plastered on his face. "Hope y' got other means f' getting home." He gathered the cards and began to shuffle when his smile faded. His eyes flickered to the dog-tags around Logan's neck, heart stopping, fingers frozen. It didn't take him long to realize just where he had seen those before. "Dos' r' some mighty nice tags y' have on dere, sir." He leaned forward to get a better look. There was no mistaken where they were from. "Man who took me wore tags jus' like `em."
Logan looked down at his tags and tucked them behind his shirt. His eyes narrowed, his own then meeting with the Acadian's in front of him. "That's part of the reason why I came here."
Remy's fingers slowly danced over the cards; a nervous habit. His expression was stone-solid, not saying anything in response. This was part of his past he was wanting to leave behind but it just reared its ugly face once again.
"I need ya to take me there."
Remy stood up abruptly, the chair nearly toppling over as a result; the women behind him quickly stepping back to avoid it. He was gripping the deck of cards so hard his knuckles turned white. "I ain't goin' back dere." Came his retort, just loud enough for the mutant across the table to hear. With that said, he didn't bother to say anything more as he stormed away from the small crowd, heading for the door. Logan got some glares as he got up and walked out after him.
Before Remy reached the exit, Logan grabbed his arm and yanked him back. The animal inside him was reacting to being told 'no'. He wasn't one to take no for an answer. "Listen here, bub," He said, his brows furrowing in anger. "Yer the only one that can take me there," That he knew of. "I'm not givin' ya a choice." It sounded harsh, but it was the only way Logan felt he could get just how important it was through the kids head.
Remy's eyes narrowed into slits. "I don' even know how y' could possibly wan' to go dere." He snapped and tried to pull his arm away. "I say I ain't neva goin' back and dat means I ain't eva goin' back." Logan's grip didn't lessen. He whimpered and gave up, turning away from him at least. "Dat place is hell. Da happiest day f' my life `ad to be when I got out of dere."
"I'm not askin' ya to go in there. I just need ya to get me there." Logan restated and looked at him intently, keeping his fingers wrapped firmly around the others wrist.
"Gonna take more den a large amount of cash to get me to go dere."
"Too bad ya won all I got."
"Den looks like y' gonna have to find someone else t' help y'."
"That's the problem," Logan said quickly, pulling Remy closer. "There is no one else. Even if there was, I don't have time."
Remy's gaze was directed to the floor. If Logan didn't have any money, there was nothing he was really interested in taking. Even if Logan said he would pay him back someday, who knew when they would end up crossing paths again?
Logan frowned. He could only imagine what those people did to Remy while he was contained there. "Look, I've dealt with those people before too." He spoke softly into his ear, able to be heard better over the other men and women in the club. "I can't change what they might've done to ya, but I can help soothe a bit of the pain."
Remy scoffed lightly and shook his head. The first thing that popped into his head was 'If y' hadn't brought it up, dere would be no pain to soothe.' "I highly doubt that, homme."
Logan tilted Remy's chin up. Was he taking one for the team? Or was he doing this out of sympathy for the other mutant? He leaned in, lips brushing lightly on the card-wielding mutants own. Remy stilled, feeling Logan's grip soften. He took this opportunity to shake his arm free, hands running up the feral's chest before looping around his neck.
Logan applied more pressure into the kiss, his tongue flicking out and running slowly on Remy's lower lip. Remy's own tongue drew back briefly before allowing it to tangle with Logan's. They both caught the faint taste of nicotine on one another's tongues. Remy's lips were just as sweet as they looked. There was something about this situation that felt oddly…right. They both were held prisoner at one point in their lives by the same people; and they both had a tortured past that they wish they could forget. They both felt a strong sense of comfort being in one another's arms. It was strangely stimulating.
Remy was the first to break the kiss. "I t'ink I found a way f' y' to convince me to take y' dere."
An hour passed; both men now laying in a heap of pants on a bed that creaked even from the slightest movement. The piece of furniture had quite a workout, and thankfully the constant squeaking could not be heard from downstairs. Logan didn't think he would have considering doing this with Remy if they had no choice but to find some not-so-private-place; a ratty run-down room on one of the upper levels sufficed. Logan's arms were now wrapped protectively around the younger mutant, nose digging into the others slightly damp hair; lips pressed to his sweaty forehead.
Remy's panting was just about controlled when he spoke up. "T'ink y' got a few mo' minutes?"
Logan kissed his forehead a few times. "I got a few to spare." He said back, sighing with contentment when he felt Remy's slender fingers slowly running through his chest hair, just barely brushing the skin underneath. He heard the crack of Remy's smile. The tips of Logan's fingers kneaded Remy's back slowly, massaging the sore muscles. He hadn't exactly been gentle---then again, Remy told him not to be. He insisted that he 'wasn't made of glass and wouldn't break'. Strangely enough, Logan viewed him to be as delicate as a porcelain doll.
Remy's fingers trailed over the dog-tags around Logan's neck and frowned lightly, able to read the inscription in the dim light. "Wolverine…" He whispered and felt Logan stiffen.
"…Why do y' wanna go back dere, cher?"
Remy froze at the mention of the name. He recalled it all too well. He swallowed nervously; finding a bit of comfort from Logan's caresses. "Now…who's dat?"
Logan waited a long moment before replying. His thoughts raced with everything he could say, but he didn't want to be anything but honest. He wouldn't be surprised if Remy jumped right out of his arms when he heard this. "The man I'm going to kill."
"Oh…" Remy closed his eyes.
Logan kissed his head. "I'll come back here again."
"And Remy be waitin' f' y'."
"I'll be lookin'."
He made a mental note to thank Fred the next time he saw him.
Author's Notes: Oh my. I had a lot of fun writing this one. This is seriously probably the most fun I have ever had writing a one-shot. Took a good four hours or so. What a way to spend an evening, non? I absolutely adore the movie and couldn't resist writing a one-shot based off of it. I have been wanting to do one ever since I saw it but I never thought up a decent enough plot. And I guess I have a boring morning in school to thank. Some of you might've noticed the asterisks I had next to the hands in Poker. Well, for those who don't know what those hands consist of, I will go ahead and explain.
Remy had a Royal Flush. That is when all five cards in the hand are the same suit and it is a straight from ten to ace. This is very rare to get in a Poker Game; maybe one in a million or higher. But then again, this is a fictional story and I can give him whatever hand that I want. XD Remy is a very lucky man.
Logan had a Full house. Any three cards of the same rank, with an additional two cards of the same rank. I don't know how often these occur in a game, but Logan got one. XD
As always, positive feedback is much appreciated…everyone probably knows that I hate receiving flames. I always come across one---one time or another in my stories. Positive feedback encourages me to write more! I would also really appreciate if you checked out some of my other stories---they are all Logan/Remy; so that might interest some of you. Haha. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!