Title: A Reason to Remember

Author: Esprit

Pairing: Gambit / Angel

Rating NC 17 to R

Disclaimer: Characters and background history on them belong to Marvel comics and no money was made in the production of this story.

 

The JC Penney Corporation had been around for quite some time and wasn’t really a thing that Warren Worthington III thought should necessarily go down, especially because of the turnaround they were making in their sales.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to bring them out of the bankruptcy that was headed their way fast.  That was why Warren decided that he wanted to buy them out.  He was pretty sure that the company could survive and make a profit in the end if it only had the support to get it through the turbulence.

That was why as of eight o’clock this morning he was the new owner of the JC Penney Corporation, and Eckard Drugstore kind of came a long with the deal, but they were ancillary.  He was headed to check out the New York store making sure he didn’t get himself into a big mess, which he was relatively certain that he didn’t.  The store manager there was a hard cut businessman by the name of O’Malley.  Clearly he was a man with Irish fighting spirit.  Most of the people under him, he noted though, were women.  In fact the majority of the people working in the store were women.  He noted that with a little bit of interest.

“Sir, it’s a pleasure to have you in our store.  I was informed that you would be visiting us.  Is there anything I can get your, sir?”

“A tour of your facility here might be nice.  I’d also like to talk to a few of your personnel.  I’ve always believed that the people who run a company are the keys to its success.”

“My views exactly.  May I introduce you to my Assistant Manager, Margaret Kelly?”

A woman in a business suit, possibly from Penney’s, possibly not, with short hair, bleached blonde stood beside the manager and held out her hand for a greeting.  Warren took it and gave a friendly but firm handshake.  “How do you do?”

“Fine, sir.”

“Good.  Will you be joining us on our tour?”

“Thank you, sir, but no.  I must mind the store.”

“I’m sure you’re very busy.  Please, don’t let me keep you.  It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well, sir.”  Warren smiled and noted as she left, but turned back to O’Malley.

“Shall we be off?”

“Certainly.  This way,” he said gesturing with his right hand.  He led through their offices and then the upper stock rooms.  Then next floor down was where the women’s clothing was.  It also housed the security department.  This Warren paid special attention to because he knew how important it was to have security and have it monitored constantly.  The gentlemen behind the screens were happy to explain about their security system and some of their policies and procedures.  Warren watched the screens as they held the images from all around the store.

The screen eventually came to a figure Warren could have sworn he recognized, but... that wasn’t possible.  The man he thought he saw working in the men’s suits department wouldn’t have been caught dead in a retail position, much less have any need to have one.  The figure shifted and he got a better look at the man.  It looked even more like the man he was thinking of.  “Could you tighten up on this man here?  He looks like he works here.” Warren asked pointing to the screen that held the suits section.

“Him?  That’s... Chris?”

“Chris, hunh?”  The camera closed in on the face of the man folding dress shirts and Warren became certain that is was him.  “I’d like to talk to the manager who’s over him.  Could you please see if they are in?”

“Yes, sir.”  The manager turned to pick up the phone and call the switchboard operator to look for the Men’s Suits Manager.  They were in today and apparently just arrived.  “Will you please have her come down to the security office?  Thank you, Jane.  She’ll be here momentarily.”

“Thank you.  Perhaps I could arrange to talk to her privately?”

“She has an office on the lower level.”

“Perfect.”  Warren met the woman in the security office.  She was a woman who looked like she was a very good mother to a wonderful family.  She had curly brown hair and rosy cheeks that sat atop a naturally beautiful smile.  She was the type of person he wanted to have as a manager in stores.  “Yes, ma’am–“, he started to introduce himself.

”Wendy,” she corrected him.  “I’m not all that formal.”

“Thank you, Wendy.  I’m Warren.  I have some questions about one of your employees.”

“You know we’re not really supposed to give out employee information.”

“Since I now own the company I believe I own all the information within it as well, so it’s okay to tell me pretty much anything.”

“You own JC Penney?”

“Yes.  I’m Warren Worthington III.”

“Oh!  Well, Mr. Worthington.  What can I tell you?”

“Might we go down to your office?”

“Of course.”

“Please excuse me, Mr. O’Malley.  I’ll meet you back upstairs when I’m finished.  I don’t suspect this will take long.”

“Sure.”  This certainly wasn’t something O’Malley was expecting from the new owner of the company.  They tended to be stiff asses that didn’t care about anything but the money in their bank accounts to say nothing of individual personnel.  Their corporate people weren’t, so why should the owner be any different?

Warren told her who it was he was inquiring about.  They got to her office without the man, “Chris” noticing that Warren was in the building.  Wendy closed the door behind her and looked at Warren.  “I have just one question for you.  Why him?”

“Why... Chris?”

“Yes.  He’s a good person and doesn’t need trouble coming to him.  I’ve seen this sort of thing happen before and if corporate big-wigs don’t like someone, they make them disappear and that’s the last thing I want to happen to Chris.”

“My objective here isn’t to fry Chris for dinner, or make him disappear.  I’d like to know the general performance of people under me.  It was a random choice to start with him.”

“All right.  Chris Cambridge is a nice young man who came to work for us about eight months ago.  He’s a hard worker and quick as a whip.  I can see him moving up the chain of command pretty quickly if he would show any interest in the position.  He loves to help out, and doesn’t shy from responsibility, but any talk of promotion and he steers the conversation elsewhere.  I can see his leadership aptitude like it’s plastered all across his face.”

“Interesting person.  Did you do a background check on him?” 

“Of course. That’s standard procedure for new employees.”

“And you didn’t find anything?”

“Of course not!”

“Good.  Will you allow me to go and talk to him?”

“Yes.  He should be out in the dress shirts to your left as you exit the office.”

“Thank you, Wendy.”  He exited the office and searched for “Chris,” if that was indeed his name, which he doubted.  There were few people who could pull off looking like Remy Le Beau without being Remy Le Beau.

The young man he approached had on glasses, but they weren’t sun glasses.  He could see a pair of deep brown eyes behind the glasses that were framed by gently draping hair.  “Remy?”

“Chris” froze.  Turning slightly he saw Warren and his face became shocked.  “Warren,” he said darkly.

“I didn’t think you would go for the retail gig.  This kind of work is below you, Remy.  We both know that.  By the way, did you get surgery?”

“Non,” he said pulling down the glasses to reveal his red on black eyes when they were removed.  Holographic projection.

“I see.  Keep them off, will you?” he asked.

“Why?” he asked sliding them back up his nose.  Remy wasn’t very sure if it was out of spite or not, but at this point, he didn’t really care.  Making Warren mad to get him away would be just fine.

“You shouldn’t have to hide, especially not from me,” he added.

“Oh, non?  You suddenly decide not to kill me de moment we in public?”

“Kill you?  Remy, what are you talking about?  I’m not mad at you.”

“Yeah.  Sure.  So, didn’t tink Penney’s was your kinda store.”

“To shop, it’s not.  Not really.  It certainly has its customer base though.”

“Den why’re y’ here?”  His accent got thicker the longer he was talking with Warren.  It was something he had found about Remy.  Whenever he became emotional, his accent would thicken of its own accord.

Warren side stepped the question entirely.  “Come with me Remy.  I don’t want you working in a place like this.  I could... take care of you– if you’re having trouble.”

“Excuse me?”  Remy looked surprised at him through his glasses.  “A, y’ didn’ answer m’ question, an’ B, why de hell would you want to be anywhere near me, let alone help me out?”

“I know that our parting wasn’t the greatest, Remy.  I know– and I made some mistakes too.”

“Oh, so monsieur parfait come down an’ admit he don’ know everythin’.  I’m sure de Prof’d be proud dat y’ found humility, homme.”

“Why are you making this so hard for me, Remy?  Come home with me.”

Remy actually physically jumped back at that phrase.  “Pardon?  I tink I jus’ went deaf.  What did y’ say?”

“Remy... I can’t stand to see you in a place like this.  Please come with me.”

“To commit suicide?  I don’ tink so.  Long as dere people around you can keep your tricks to put me six feet under to yourself.”

“You honestly think I’m trying to kill you, Rem’?”

“Rem’?  Since when you call me anything but Gambit, lessin’ y’ being derogatory?”

Warren leaned closer to Remy.  “Remy, what’s going on?” he whispered.  “Please come with me.  Just to talk.”

“Sorry, I have work to do.”

“I’ll get you out of it,” he offered.

“Don’t go pullin’ y’ money strings f’ me.  I don’ wanna talk to y’, Warren.  I know y’ seem to want to talk to me, but really, dis is ridiculous.  Screw y’ head on straight, homme.  Get Jeannie to take a look at y’.  Do somethin’, but do it far away from here.”

“Remy, as soon as I saw you I wanted to apologize.  Let me make it up to you?  Please?”

“What are you talkin’ about, Warren?  Apologize for what?”

“The night in the club.”

Remy blinked a few times.  “Warren– we’ve never been to a club together.  I didn’t even tink y’ were de type to frequent dem.”

“I wasn’t until that night and I haven’t been since.  I want you to come back with me.  I want– more.  I don’t know what it was.  That night in the club changed everything.”

“Warren, did y’ not hear me, homme.  I said we haven’t been to a night club together.  Ever.”

“What?”  Warren squinted at him.  “Take your glasses off.”  Remy slowly removed his glasses with a sigh.

“I don’ understand.”

“I don’t either.  You are Remy.”  Warren reached out to brush Remy’s cheek when Remy drew back, sinking into a defensive fighting posture.  “Remy– I’m–“

”Don’t touch me like dat again,” he interrupted.  He stalked off to the office where Wendy was.  She was keeping a distant watch over their conversation although he doubted that she could hear anything with how far away she was.

When Remy stopped to talk to her Wendy’s posture became surprised.  Warren wondered what he was telling her.  Remy continued to stalk off a moment later.  Wendy looked hot under the collar and practically marched over to him.  “Well, Mr. Worthington, you seem to have gotten your way.  Chris just handed in his resignation, effective immediately.  What did you say to him?”

“It’s a long story.  I’m sorry about his resignation though.”  Warren thought about what he just said.  Hadn’t he been trying to persuade Remy to quit and come home with him?  Well, all this had gotten him was Remy running away.  That certainly wasn’t what he wanted.

“I don’t think you are.  I don’t know what your plan was, but I saw that little cheek brush and while I don’t mind homosexuality, I do mind you messing with my people no matter how high up the economic ladder you are.”

“Wendy, I know that man.  He was a little upset at me and I apologize if I cost you one of your personnel.  I’ll try and talk to him to get him to reconsider.”

“So he wasn’t a random selection,” she observed a bit miffed at his fib.

“No.  If you’ll excuse me, I want to catch him before he leaves the store.”

“He takes the mall entrance out,” she said as he turned to leave.  Warren paused to look at her.  “I want him back here a good deal more than you do, so you better do some good groveling.”  Warren nodded to her and headed for the escalator.

Remy was on his way out the mall doors when Warren went to catch up with him.  “Chris,” he called out.  Remy paused at the name, but kept walking when he saw Warren.  Warren jogged to catch him.  “Remy, Wendy asked me to have you reconsider leaving.  I don’t want to keep you from this if this is really what you want to do.”

“What I really wanted to do, Warren was fade into nothin’ness so y’ wouldn’ find me, but now dat y’ know I’m here, de purpose is defeated, n’est pas?  Dat’s why I quit.”

“If you want, Remy, I can leave you alone, if you really don’t want to see me.”

They were well out into the mall by now.  “Dere y’ go wit’ de personal stuff again.  Okay, dis has got m’ curious.  What de hell do you t’ink happened between us?” he stopped and propped the hand that was carrying his trenchcoat on his hip while the other hung in a frustrated fist.

“We really can talk about this over dinner, Remy.  I’m kind of embarrassed to talk about it here.”

“Plenty o’ white noise, I don’ see why not.”

Warren cleared his throat.  “Well, I saw you at a club one night, about nine months ago.  I was getting ready to leave after I saw you because I wasn’t happy with you at the time.  Before I left, you were dancing… with this guy—and you looked—“ Warren blushed and stuttered making it difficult to get anything out in a straightforward manner.

“Wait, Warren, are y’ sayin’ y’ were attracted t’ me?”

“Very.”

“’Kay.  G’head.”  Remy just had to clarify that because he would hate to have a misunderstanding of that magnitude.  It wasn’t all that extraordinary to have a man be attracted to him, but usually that man had previous tendencies toward the male sex to begin with.

“I couldn’t stop staring at you with the man.  I wanted to be in his place.  I figured that I had an advantage in knowing you already, so I decided to go and cut in—or something.”

“Lemme guess, y’ chickened out?”

“Do you remember this or not?”

“No,” Remy said defensively, waiving his hand in a gesture for Warren to continue.

“Yes, I chickened out.  I went outside, but you followed me.”  Now this went completely out of the realm of Remy’s memory.  He didn’t really remember frequenting any clubs in the past year at which he danced with a man, but having alcohol present, that could easily have been overlooked.  He was certain, however, that he would have remembered an encounter with Warren Worthington III sloshed or not.

“An’ den…?”

“Then… you let me dance with you… at home… in bed.”

“What?!  No way.  Y’ makin’ dat up as y’ go along?”

“No.  I learned a lot about you that night and the next morning.  I also made you pretty mad in the morning from some of the things I said and I wanted to say I’m sorry.  I never wanted to hurt you, but I ended up doing it anyway.  I know that this is really a vane apology since you don’t even acknowledge the memory, but this is important to me, Remy.  I’ve been looking for you ever since and I’ve been thinking about you too.”  Warren looked at Remy who had stopped walking somewhere around that confession of attraction.  “Please accept my apology, Remy.”

“Y’ said y’ knew it was vane.  How can y’ expect me to; I don’ even know what it was y’ said.”

“I don’t want to repeat it, Remy, I made you mad enough once and you seem ticked off now.  Maybe this is your way of telling me that you don’t forgive me, and if that’s the case, then I have to live with it, but please, won’t you at least think about what I’ve said?”

“I tink about it, but no’ much else.”

“Why not much else?”

“Because I’m not gay, Warren.  I have about as much interest in men as de FoH does in world peace.”

Warren stood there perplexed at Remy’s statement.  He really thought after the night they had nine months ago that he had found out that Remy was interested in men at least a little.  He still remembered the way Remy would moan as he slid—woah.  His thoughts were getting a little graphic, which was bound to cause problems.

Remy walked away from him and he stayed where he was.  Sighing, he was determined to track him down again and soon.  Warren wasn’t about to let him go.

 

 

 

Chapter II

 

The warm night air felt cool against Warren’s nervously heated skin.  If he didn’t have his image inducer on, he was sure he would look rather purple.  He had just seen a couple walk past nearly having sex in line to get into this place that was highly recommended by a friend of his.  He wondered if he should just take the hint that he needed to get laid, or actually go into a place like this.  The atmosphere certainly intrigued him. It was a place he felt like, if he really wanted to, he could probably take off his jacket and expose his wings and be accepted.  It was a little bit goth, so he would end up having some people bow down in mock worship while others cowered and pretended to burn, but you win some, you lose some.

Finally, it was his turn to get in and he presented the invitation his friend gave him to the front employee who had the bouncer just off to her left.  She examined his ticket and told him the cover, which he produced easily.  When she looked up at him, she smiled and waived him through.  He could hear the music from half a block away, but when he entered the actual club area, he was nearly blasted—which was good for club environments.  He supposed that he hadn’t been to a club in far too long.  Maybe his friend was right—this would do him good.

It was easy to get into the music, though he didn’t know the particular band playing—not like he would; his music tastes were far different from this, but it fit the dark, slightly moody atmosphere.  He spotted his friend that referred him and went over to say hi, until his friend was intercepted by a lithe dark haired thing that sat on his lap.  His friend seemed rather preoccupied with her and Warren decided not to interrupt.

Instead, he thought he might go try the libations at the bar and hope that he could get relaxed enough to dance in public without getting totally sloshed.  He wasn’t really fond of dancing in crowds mostly because of the jostling of his wings, which was a problem two fold: he might be discovered as a mutant and his wings might be damaged in the process and he was not going to let that happen again.  Maybe he could dance in a corner so his wings were relatively safe.

Striding up to the bar, he ordered a vodka martini and requested the use of Grey Goose.  The bar tender nodded to him and stepped away to make his drink.  Paying the bar tender, he returned to the edge of the dance floor where he could sip his drink isolated among the crowd.  Funny how these sorts of places were that you could be completely alone in a crowd where bodies brushed up against each other constantly.  Perhaps that was some of the appeal.  He would need another drink.

And he ended up getting three more before he started to feel comfortable.  It was generally more than he drank, but he expected that his tolerance was going up too.

He gazed at the dance floor and the couples who gyrated together to the rhythms and those who danced singly.  His eyes happened to fall on a particularly nice looking young man with long dark hair who danced alone facing away from him, then was joined by another man with shorter dark hair.  The short haired one danced into the long haired figure like he was taking him from behind.  It was a pretty erotic display.

The joined figures turned enough that he was able to see their faces and the expressions on their faces made Warren blush a deeper red translated even through his image inducer and he felt his pants get a fair bit tighter.  Then he recognized the face of the long haired one.  He couldn’t believe who was sliding up the body of another man.  It was Remy Le Beau!

If he weren’t standing already, he would have stood in shock and outrage.  Standing as he was, he only felt shocked, not really outraged.  Then he felt his slacks get even tighter and knew that he had to get out of there.  The problem was that he needed to get to the other side of the dance floor in order to exit.  Determined to not stop, he finished his drink in one gulp, watching the dry sex happening in front of him and moved to work his way through the dancing crowd.  He didn’t try very hard to stay away from Gambit, mostly because he didn’t care if the man knew he was there.  All he was sure Gambit would do is cower in fear.  They were not on speaking terms at the moment for threat of violence on either part.

Although, when he was dancing with that man, so sensually, it made him want to talk to him very much.  Maybe he was half wishing that he would get to rub up against Remy as he passed him.  In fact, he changed his course so he would be able to.  Maybe he could even dance with him like his current partner was.  He didn’t end up rubbing next to Remy, but he did stand in front of him for just a moment, facing him.  When Remy’s eyes opened, he stopped dancing instantly.  His eyes were wide open as he looked at Angel. 

Angel’s eyes looked over Remy’s body and Remy saw that he was appreciating the view.  He started swaying against his partner again and leaned away from him enough to lean to Warren and waive his hips toward the man.  Warren wanted him… badly. 

Not sure if he would kick himself for it for the rest of the year, he turned away from Remy and walked out of the club through the strangers.  Remy extracted himself from the other man and slunk the rest of the way through the dance crowd following Warren to the exit.

Remy shivered briefly in the cool night air and Warren noticed that Gambit was there with him only when he turned to look back longingly at the door.  He had been sure he was making a mistake—until he found that the mistake had followed him.  He stood there surprise coloring his features and took a few steps toward him, wanting to say something, but not being able to.  Warren hailed a cab to take them to his place and wasn’t long in getting one.  When they hopped into the back, Warren couldn’t help but stare at Remy.  Remy was quiet, which he wasn’t sure if he liked or not, but he looked at Warren just as much as Warren looked at Remy.

It was a fifteen minute ride that was mostly silent, but ten minutes in, Remy’s hand started to wander.  He was very subtle about it, but he casually slid his hand up Warren’s thigh and made sure he was still interested, which he was.  Warren tipped heavily and they fled the cab.  Remy was completely well behaved in front of his penthouse apartment and Warren was grateful for that.  The last thing he needed was rumors flying about him, but he wasn’t dwelling on that thought at all.  He was dwelling on the sexily dressed man in front of him.

Getting up to his room, he opened the door and shoved Remy roughly inside and pinned him to the adjacent wall kissing him as soon as he was in, not even totally closing the door.  Remy ended up closing it for him with his foot, which was nice of him.  All the time, Remy was quiet, though he made small sounds of enjoyment.  Warren was surprised what a great kisser Remy was, but supposed he shouldn’t have been. His skin was tingling and he wanted to free himself in several places.  Reigning in his urgency for just a moment, he pulled away from Remy and said, “Take off your clothes,” quietly.

He stood away from Remy and turned off his image inducer and started to remove his shirt.  Remy began to do the same and Warren watched him undress.  He was pretty much pacing Warren, he didn’t know why, but it looked really good.  The only extra thing Warren had to remove was his wing bindings.  He hated them, but they were necessary. 

His wings felt great when they were released and Remy’s jaw dropped when they unfurled.  He stared at them, his task of undressing forgotten.  Warren moved out of the hallway and into the open space of his apartment.  It was huge and Warren liked it that way for a reason.  Remy stared after him and Warren liked the attention.   He started undoing his slacks and that reminded Remy that he needed to tend to his jeans.  He approached Warren slowly while he undressed the rest of the way, offering himself to the Angel.

Warren’s hands started to roam over Remy’s body after he was naked, and he was a gorgeous naked.  Remy was shy in his fondling of Warren, but he did run his hands over him, causing as much pleasure as he could, but Warren thought he didn’t want to overstep his bounds and he never touched those brilliant white wings.

Leading them into Warren’s bedroom, he seemed to get the idea and became more assertive in his giving of pleasure.  His movements were sure as he bent his head to pull a deep blue nipple into his mouth.  He even nicked it with his teeth.  Warren hissed at the sensations, which all seemed magnified because of his drunken state.  His hands never stopped moving over Warren. He kissed Warren deeply, thrusting his tongue into Warren’s mouth and that brought to mind how much he wanted to take Remy from behind like he had seen the man at the club mimic.

“Remy, I want you,” he whispered.  “I want to fuck you.”  Remy shivered in response, but Warren was pretty sure it was a shiver of delight because if it hadn’t been, wouldn’t he have pulled away?  Silence was his only answer, but Remy did kiss him like that again, so he took that as a ‘yes.’  The night stand that he kept his lubricant in was for female visitors, but he was sure neither of them would care.  Reaching in, he pulled out the tube and squeezed some into his hand.  He tried to warm it up, but he wasn’t able to much.

Reaching around Remy, he kissed him as he slid one hand down to his ass and pulled at a cheek to expose him while the other hand slipped its fingers into his body.  Remy rose up on his tip toes and moaned, leaning into Warren’s embrace.  “Do you like that, Remy?”  A nearly imperceptible nod was felt as he reclaimed the kiss, in fact deepening it again, his tongue sliding all over Warren’s teeth and tongue.  Remy lowered himself back down and Warren put more gel into his hand to slick himself.  His cock was so hard he felt he would explode.  Taking his clean hand, he guided Remy to face away from him. 

Leaning over the bed, Remy stuck his ass out, bracing himself against the bed with his arms.  Warren ran his hands over Remy again and worked his fingers in his body and this time Remy moaned loudly.  Not waiting any longer, Warren replaced his fingers with his dick and impaled Remy quickly.  Remy shouted and bucked, squeezing his muscles around Warren.  Warren leaned over Remy and fucked into the tight ass.  Remy’s long hair tossed wildly while he rode Warren. 

Pulling back and straightening, he watched his rod enter Remy again and again, each thrust eliciting a moan from Remy.  Remy was enjoying this!  Warren was in heaven—a suitable place for him, and it wasn’t long before he exploded his seed deep inside Remy.  He did so with a series of grunts, shocked at how hard he was coming.

He felt like he nearly passed out, but he kept himself from collapsing over Remy.  He tried to regain his breath and slipped out of Remy to turn him around and kiss him.  “Come to bed with me,” he said breathlessly, crawling under the covers.  Warren slept on his stomach or his sides, so he turned to face the opposite side of the bed while Remy got into it.  Warren was awake long enough to kiss Remy good night.

Waking to being sucked on was something he could definitely get used to.  He heard the slurping and felt the suction before he really registered what was going on.  Moving his hips to thrust into that mouth he opened his eyes to see Remy looking up at him with glowing eyes.  They sparkled brightly at him and he jerked his hips.  “Oh, god, Remy.”

Remy stopped sucking on him and drew up to Warren’s face to kiss him.  Warren couldn’t believe that he wanted him again.  He felt more sober, but was riding euphoria in the alcohol’s stead.  Reaching around to Remy’s ass, he fingered his still slick hole.  Surprised that Remy would be so eager for it, he watched as Remy turned away from him and slid back onto his cock.   On their sides, Remy moved his hips into Warren and Warren grabbed his sides, squeezing his hips, trying to encourage him to go faster.

Wanting more control over the speed, he reached around and grabbed Remy’s manhood to control his hips from there.  Contrary to Warren’s intention, Remy became more wild, howling and bucking uncontrollably.  Warren thought it just might be better than what he intended.  He wasn’t sure that Remy climaxed yet and wanted him to, so he stroked trying to follow Remy’s rhythm.  Remy’s long wordless, cry heralded his completion and Warren felt his hand become very slick as it continued to slide over Remy’s spasming flesh.  Remy’s body tightened around Warren’s as the tremor washed through them and Warren couldn’t help but come again as he felt a tingling energy at his groin pull the orgasm from him.

Warren woke soaked with sweat.  His own cry of release echoing in his ears, he reached out for Remy—and found dry mattress in front of him. He was in his apartment again, and it was only a few moments later that he realized that his wonderful dream was horrible, but only because it didn’t get to happen again.  Remy didn’t even remember seeing him in the year and a half since Warren last threatened to kill him, which had been a mistake on his part, but did he realize that then?  No.  Their meeting ten months ago may have just as well never taken place. 

He had happened upon Remy to his relief, but he refused to acknowledge that they had ever been together.  In fact, he seemed disgusted with the idea.  Warren’s relief had crumpled when Remy told him he didn’t know what Warren was talking about.

Warren decided that he would at least go and talk to the Professor about the possibility of someone pushing away their own memories.  He was the person who would know, after all.

 

 

The Professor had a pretty much open door policy at the school and people were free to talk to him whenever they needed, but he kept his door for privacy reasons.  “Professor, do you know the extent to which someone can control their own memories?”

“A person can certainly chose to see something that others don’t, but there is usually still some truth in the memory, and a copy of it always exists somewhere in their mind in its unadulterated form.  Was there something specific you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Remy.”

“Oh,” the Professor said, disappointedly, leaning back in his chair.  His brows drew together and he did not look happy.

“Professor, I know he’s not the best student of yours, but will you give him a chance?”

Xavier’s brows rose at Warren’s words.  “I will… endeavor to do so, Warren.”  Xavier kept what other thoughts he had to himself.  “Tell me what’s on your mind about Gambit.”

“I spoke with him a few weeks ago about something—a conversation we had—and he says he didn’t remember anything about it.”

“It is relatively easy for a person to forget a conversation among many that they’ve had.  People have an incredible ability to forget what someone has said to them and most of the time it’s because they weren’t paying attention to what was being said to begin with.”

“This was a… pretty intense conversation,” he mumbled, trying to hide his nervousness.

Xavier cleared his throat nonchalantly.  “I see.”

“How could he forget something like that?”

“Couples often forget what it was they fought about the day before.  Perhaps this is something of that nature.”

“Professor!” Warren objected, blushing.

“Your conversations are mostly arguments, are they not?”  Warren flushed a deeper purple.

“They…uh, tended to be, yeah.”

“Why would he choose to remember something that was unpleasant to remember?”

“Not all of it was—I mean, we exchanged some civil words,” he tried to cover.

“That could easily have blended into the rest of the conversation if he was preoccupied.”

“But he would at least have remembered seeing me right?  He would have remembered that I stood in front of him and had a conversation, regardless of the content, right?”

“Warren, most people would, but Remy does have a powerful will.  He could have chosen to push that memory far away from him, especially if it were traumatic, and forget that any of it ever happened.”

“Traumatic….”  Warren was hurt.  Was what they shared traumatic to Remy?  Did he hurt him and not know?  It was going to drive him crazy unless he found out.  “Thank you, Professor,” he said and headed out.  Their conversation the next morning had gotten intense, but it was far from violent.  Nothing Remy said that morning led him to believe that the nights experience was traumatic.  That couldn’t be the reason.  Someone was messing with Remy.  He would have to keep on looking for him to find out who and why.

 

 

 

Chapter III

 

 

It had been a month of active tracking when he actually caught up with Gambit in a place he should have looked from the start.  Remy could never stay away from the X-Men for long.  Remy was walking away from the rec-room when Warren encountered him.  Warren caught him in a grumpy mood, too.  He had a look like he’d been fighting with Rogue.  Warren was able to walk up to him and actually place his hand on Remy’s chest before the man really registered his presence.

“Remy,” Warren whispered.  Remy started at the touch and the whisper.  He looked up into Warren’s blue face and didn’t move or respond—just stared, mouth slightly open in surprise.

As he stared, Warren remembered something Remy had told him the morning after the club, nearly a year ago.  “Warren, I could never deny you anyting—“  Remy had acted much like a slave that night and that was what sparked a pretty big argument.

“Remy,” Warren asked, “could you ever deny me something I asked of you?”

Faced with a question like that, faced with those magnificent wings spread out behind him he looked like the angel he was.  Those wings reminded him of nothing except for the suffering he had caused Warren all those years ago.  Remy could only respond, “Notin’ widin’ m’ power t’ give,” in a whisper.  He felt the guilt threatening to suffocate him as he watched Angel stand there.

Angel had never asked anything of Remy before, but Remy always knew that should he ask, he would give him anything short of his life.  He always felt so horrible for the loss of Angel’s wings and the Massacre; if it would ease Warren’s pain, or make him look at Remy differently, would he really have a choice?

“Then let me have you,” he pled.

Remy’s stomach butterflies jumped all over and up into his throat, making it hard to swallow or breathe.  He started trembling, never tearing his gaze away from the man that wanted him so much.  The thought of touching someone like that again made him tingle.  It was true that he didn’t have a lot of interest in men, but for this man, he would certainly give a chance.  Remy didn’t move.

Warren took his immobility to mean that he needed convincing and leaned into Remy’s space, bringing his mouth down to press against his.  He slid his lips along Remy’s, enjoying the faint tickle that Remy shivered at.

When Warren moved to look at Remy and speak again, he was still only inches away.  “Give yourself to me, Remy.” He asked in a tone that sounded half like a plea and half command.  He could feel the man in front of him tremble more than he ever thought the thief would.

The second brush of lips undid Remy completely and he moaned and sank against Warren firming up their contact.  Though he stood, he was limp, pressing against the Angel in front of him.  Warren took that as a gift of himself and wrapped his arms around Remy, cupping a hand at the base of his head underneath his hair.

Leading Remy down the hall after disengaging the kiss, Warren kept an arm around Remy’s waist.  Not wanting to break the mood and scare Remy off, Warren made sure to keep eye contact with Remy and also to keep his wings slightly open.  He knew how much Remy liked his wings even though he never asked to touch them.  Warren got the impression that he felt he didn’t have the right to touch them.

They only stopped once they were in Warren’s room and he took a good look at the man he’d been pining after for nearly a year, brushing his hand through Remy’s hair. 

“How, Ange?”

“How?” he questioned.

“How did y’ know t’ ask me dat?  I never told anyone….”

“You told me—that morning.  Remy, I want to start over and I think I have an incredible opportunity to right now.  Let me make you fly.”  Remy’s heart jumped in his chest.  He’d seldom had the opportunity to fly, but he always liked it.  Before Remy could really respond Warren leaned in and gave him a deep kiss that he sank into.  At that point, had he wanted to Remy wouldn’t have been able to refuse; the blood was rushing in his ears.

Warren’s hands became freer over Remy’s body, sliding up his shirt.  God, his skin was smooth.  Hearing a gasp in his ear, he opened his eyes to find Remy’s tightly shut and his body pressing against him in earnest.  It was then that Warren realized his erection had pressed up against Remy’s thigh.  Knowing that someone was hot for him riled Remy up quite a bit.

“Ange… how can y’ wan’ me?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“I think the question,” he whispered back, nibbling at his ear, “is how could I not?”  Emphasis on his words was made by a thrust of his hips and Remy nearly squeaked.

“Den—I need t’ hear it,” he sounded like he was begging.

“Hear what, Remy?”

“Dat y’ forgive me.”

Warren pulled away from Remy to look him in his ruby-onyx eyes that shone with unshed tears and he unfurled his wings behind him.  Remy’s eyes widened at the display, drawn to the sight of those wings.  “I forgive you, Remy.  I forgave you a long time ago.”

Remy’s hands tightened in the sides of Warren’s shirt and he flew into the next kiss.  Warren wrapped his arms around Remy’s waist under his shirt.  Remy felt Warren’s manhood and couldn’t help but undulate his hips toward Warren so sexily.

“I want you so badly, Remy—please—“

Remy felt like he had to do something right then, something to ease Warren’s need, so he slipped from Warren’s embrace, gliding to his knees and opening Warren’s slacks.  “Remy, what are you doing?”  He didn’t get a verbal response.  Remy found the hard member and pulled it free from trousers and boxers.  Marveling for a moment at the flushed purple color, an interesting hue, Remy dove on it and sucked.  “Ah!” Warren cried in shock.

Hands were at Remy’s head, running lithe fingers through his hair, gripping, encouraging.  Having his mouth full like this was a new experience, although he’d had it done to him by women before.  He didn’t like the thought of being a woman, but he did like the thought of Warren’s hard-on being for him.  It made him feel a strange mixture of worth and power.  It spurred him on, making his rhythm increase.

His only warning that Warren was cumming was the grunt and sudden fucking of his mouth.  The bucking motion made Remy’s heart squeeze as he felt and tasted Warren’s completion.  The taste in his mouth was salty, but he thirsted for Warren’s approval and newly given affection and found himself swallowing the thick liquid without thinking.  It wasn’t as bad as all that.

When Warren bent to bring Remy to his feet he found that Remy was shaking more than he was.  “Remy, what’s wrong?  Are you all right?  Remy?”  Remy looked up at Warren with pained eyes.  “Oh, Remy, what’s wrong?  Please speak to me.”

He tried to find words as quickly as possible, but they were elusive.  “Warren… I don’ know.”  Warren guided Remy over to the bed and rested him on it.  He felt like he was still so unworthy, even after being given forgiveness.  “I never—“ imagined dat y’ would ever consider f’givin’ me, he finished to himself.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said brushing his cheek tenderly.  “Will you forgive me?”

“Y’ didn’ do anythin’.”

“Hmm.  Maybe that’s the problem,” he purred as he pressed Remy toward the mattress lifting up Remy’s shirt to expose him, Warren ran his blue hands over the golden flesh.  His hands found Remy’s nipples and played with them until they were standing out.

“Warren?”

“Mmm?” he asked and leaned down to lick at a nipple, flicking it with his tongue.

“Hahh!” Remy cried, breathless with texture shock and his question forgotten.  He was also amazed that Warren would want him for anything other than receiving pleasure.

“Is this better, Remy?”  He arched into the mouth that was talking at his chest as the lips made words around his nipple. 

“Oui.”  He wondered what Warren was planning, but whatever it was involved opening his jeans.  He got nervous as Warren got more intense with his sucking, leaving one wet nipple to stand and cool while he took the other and smothered it with heat and pleasure.

Warren’s hand on his package kind of surprised him, but he took deep breaths trying to keep from getting too dizzy.  When Warren moved away from Remy’s nipples and kissed down his torso Remy cried out in frustration.  It felt so good—it made him so hard!

Before he knew it, Warren was back to kissing and licking, but in an infinitely more frustrating place.  His hips bucked up without inhibition or being bid.  Warren started sucking on Remy’s head and he gripped at the bed sheets.  “Remy, you taste so good,” Warren cooed to him and Remy wasn’t sure he heard him right, but he wasn’t going to argue if it kept that mouth on him.

All Remy’s writhing and moaning got Warren hard again and he had a mind to fuck the man below him until he came screaming Warren’s name, which he really hoped he would do.  He made sure Remy’s jeans were off as he didn’t want to have to deal with them later.  Taking his index finger and coating it with saliva, he left Remy to stand and cool.  It was only a few frustrating seconds before Warren was sucking and licking his head again.

Slowly, but in tandem, Warren slid his finger into Remy’s ass and sank his wet mouth down over his straining flesh.  Remy came undone underneath him and couldn’t help the wild wriggling and loud crying.  It was all Warren could do to ride him, but he wanted to ride him more.

“Remy, can I have you?” he asked with his finger still gliding in and out of him.

“I’m yours, Warren,” he moaned without breath or patience.  He needed to cum!

Removing his finger from Remy’s ass, Warren flipped Remy over while reaching for the lube in his drawer.  Remy was compliant and guided into a position on his knees on the bed.  Fingers at his ass again made Remy’s cock throb in anticipation.  His hair swept down his upper back and he leaned his head back in abandoned pleasure as Warren slid two fingers in him.  Warren had always loved or been jealous of his hair.

Slicking himself up, Warren presented his once again well hardened cock at the entrance to Remy’s body.  “Relax, Remy,” he said trying to stretch him with his fingers.  He couldn’t wait long and pressed into him.  Remy cried and hissed but he did not move an inch away from Warren’s member.

The feeling of being impaled was almost unbearable, but thankfully, Warren wasted no time in moving in and out of him, which is what made it feel so good.  Warren couldn’t help himself as he slammed in and out of Remy’s tight ass.

It occurred to Remy as it was happening that he was flying.  It felt indescribably good, especially when Warren brushed upon a particular spot.  Warren leaned over Remy and hugged him close, wrapping his wings around them.  When Remy opened his eyes, he saw the wings around him and leaned up. Warren leaned with him, but did not cease his bucking into Remy’s fabulous sheath.

Reaching out tentatively to touch the white pinion feathers, he stopped and drew back, his hand curling.  Warren saw this plain display of need and whispered into his ear, “Touch me, Remy.  Touch my wings,” and slid his hand over Remy’s swollen dick.  He slowed his pace to a near stop to not shock or jolt Remy out of touching the feathers like they both wanted.

Warren waited for just the moment that Remy touched his feathers like he wanted to make love to his wings before he slid gently back and forth moving his hand in rhythm.  Remy’s entire body stiffened and he came gazing at a sea of white feathers that he was able to touch.  They were so soft, his fingers sang at the texture.  “Ange!”  All of his pleasures blurred together as the orgasm burst, and then they tapered off separating into distinguishable sensations again cascading over him.

“Remy, breathe,” he heard worriedly from behind him.  Awareness faded up on Remy and he found he was very out of breath.  “God, you scared me.”  Gently, he eased out of Remy’s body, which caused Remy to shudder and moan.  It couldn’t have been too comfortable as Warren was still hard, but even that Remy outwardly enjoyed.  Once out, Warren hugged Remy close to him and kissed his neck.  “Are you still mine?”

“Tout les jours de ma vie, Ange.” <All the days of my life, Angel.>  Warren hugged him again vowing privately to never let him go.

 

 

 

Chapter IV

 

It was nearly noon and they needed to discuss several things.  On Warren’s mental agenda were the following issues in order of least importance to greatest: living arrangements; Remy’s slave-like behavior, which still brought chills to his spine when he gave it thought; and lastly, Remy’s complete lack of memory of how this relationship began.  The simplest problem would be addressed first because it would probably be the least time consuming.

“Remy?”  Remy looked up lazily at Warren from his place in the crook of his arm.  “What do you think about living arrangements?”

“What about ‘em?” he asked tiredly.

“Do you think you’d like to move in with me?”

“Mmm,” he said in understanding.  He was silent for a moment.  “Ange, I’m here whenever y’ wan’ me, but I need a place I can call mine, y’ know?”

“Okay, that answers that question.  Just so long as I don’t have to hunt you down.”  Remy smiled to himself remembering that was exactly what Warren had to do recently.  “That actually makes me pretty happy.  I was worried about you and the way you… well, you actually act really… submissive.”

“Not like I know what I’m doin’.”

“I hardly believe that.  You’re reputed to have had more lovers than one could count.  That will translate over to any gender.”

“But I’m… nervous when I’m with you.  Like I’m walkin’ on egg shells.”

“Oh.  We’ll have to work on that.”  Remy shrugged at his remark.  His only goal at this point was to make Warren happy.  That’s what he wanted, wasn’t it?

“Hey, Warren?” he asked as he got to thinking about what Warren had just said.

“Hmmm?”

“Does dis mean y’ wan’ a relationship outta me?”  Remy could only hope that was what he wanted, but it seemed more unlikely than him wanting to sleep with Remy in the first place, so he wasn’t about to hold his breath.

Warren pulled away to look at him.  “Did I give you the impression that I wanted something else?”

“Y’ mainly gave de impression dat y’ wanted m’ body.”

Blinking at him, Warren had to think about it.  “Well—I do want your body… but I don’t want you without your heart and soul behind it.  Remy… I love you.”

Remy had been preparing his response until he heard the last three syllables.  He was too shocked to say anything.  “Warren…”  Remy hopped out of bed, his muscles no longer weary, and searched for his scattered clothing.  His heart was pounding in his ears—he was scared.

“Please, talk to me, Remy.”

“How can I believe you?” he asked, turning to Warren after picking up his shirt.  “I don’ even know what’s gotten int’ you, Ange.  I mean, y’ real intense, but I….  I can’t do dis half way.”

“Meaning…?”

“I can’ let dis go any furder widout knowin’ how it started.”

“Which brings up the last thing we need to talk about.”

“Y’ planned all dis?”

“I do run a multi-billion dollar company, Remy.”

“Fine, what’s last on de agenda?” he asked rolling his eyes.

“How you lost your memory and hopefully how to get it back.”

Remy threw his arms up in the air, exasperated.  “Simple!”

“I know that it’s not simple, Remy.  I know that it’ll take a long time, but I want you with me; I can’t live without you, not now that I have you.”  Their eyes locked and Remy couldn’t stand up to that sincere expression for long.

“Anytin’ widin’ m’ power t’ give,” he said referencing what now felt like a vow.

“Remy, more than anything, I want you to be happy.  I know you can be happy with me if you give me a chance.”

“I’m givin’ y’ a chance, Ange.”

Warren joined Remy out of bed and passed his hands over Remy’s arms lightly.  Holding Remy’s gaze, he leaned in for a kiss and Remy still responded to it, kissing back.  “Do you want breakfast?”  They had stayed up all night and gone to sleep early that morning.  Warren imagined that Remy would be hungry.

“Non, tanks.”

“What?”

“Tanks, but I’ve got tings ta do an’ I ain’ all dat hungry,” he explained as he dressed.

“How can you not be?”

“Ange, if y’ wan’ a relationship wit’ me, please gimme some space.  I don’ work on a full stomach well, so I get food some oder time.”

“Okay,” he said with worried eyes.  “Will you be around the mansion?”

“For a little bit.”  He saw Warren’s worried face.  “Don’ fret, Ange.  I be back f’ dinner, d’accord?”

“D’accord,” he replied without as good of an accent.

“I see you den,” he said finishing up the buttons on his shirt.  Making to leave the room, he was stopped by Warren with a brush of his arm.

“See you at dinner,” and leaned in for a kiss.

They parted and Remy felt awkward as he left.  This was really weird.  Although, he had to admit, the sex was definitely better than any brief encounters he’d had with Rogue.

Oh.  He stopped in his tracks thinking about her and what her reaction would be.  He would at least have to tell her that he’d had another offer that he was going to take up.  Sighing, he tried to find her.

She was down in the laundry room, of all places and huffed when she saw him.  “Chere, look, I know dis ain’ really workin’ ‘tween us an’ I wanted to let y’ know dat I agree dat it would be best if we move on.  Fact is I’ve taken up somebody else’s offer.”

“What?”

“I’m seein’ somebody else.  Tink it be good f’ y’ t’ move on too.”

“Who is it?”

“I ain’ sayin’ jus’ yet. I did tink y’ should be de first t’ know.  See y’ ‘roun’.”  He left the laundry room with plans to leave the mansion and go searching for clues to his lost memory.  Heading out to his bike after picking up his coat he looked pensive as he passed Xavier’s study.

“Gambit?” Xavier called to him through the slightly cracked door.  That man must have x-ray vision or something, Remy swore to himself.

“Prof?” he asked as he peeked through the door.

“I just wanted to check in with you.  It’s been a while since we spoke.”

“Don’ go practicin’ y’ psychology on me, Prof.  I ain’ in de mood f’ it.”

“I see.  Irritable and impatient,” he said as he scribbled on a file on his desk.

“What are y’ doin?!”

“Practicing psychology,” he smiled disarmingly.  Remy shook his head.  “Really, Remy, how have things been?”

“Really weird.  Now can I go?”

“Hmm.  Um, yes,” he said but noted his words and behavior.

 

Dinner was late, but so was Remy, so it wasn’t so horrible, at least for Warren.  It would have been considered fashionably late if the gathering were anything but a casual diner.  “Remy,” Warren greeted.

Most of the table went silent.  Remy got really uncomfortable being the center of attention.  “Hey, Warren,” he acknowledged.  “How’s ever’body doin’ dis humid evenin’?”

“I think we’re all just fine.  Have a seat, Remy; you haven’t missed anything yet,” the Professor invited.

Nonchalantly, he sat next to Warren.  People were watching him and he couldn’t help but feel it even as he stared at his empty plate.

“Scott, how are the modifications to the Blackbird going?” asked the Professor suddenly.

“It’s not as easy as when Forge was here, but I’m not breaking anything.”

“Yet,” mocked Bobby jovially and he received a chuckle from around the table with one protest from Scott’s seat—which was exactly the desired effect.  As good as Bobby was at making ice, he was also good at breaking it.  Dinner became its usual self around the table.

When dinner was over, cleanup began and Rogue took the opportunity to approach Remy.  “Ah thought Ah was gonna have ta save youah chops, Remy.  Why was Angel so nice ta you?”

“Angel has turned over a new leaf, Rogue,” Warren said.

“I tought I had de corner market on de t’ird person,” Remy joked.  Angel laughed at him.

“You also had a monopoly on theft until I came along.”

“I’d like to see you try a pinch!” Remy said challengingly, setting down his dishes with everyone else’s.

“Haven’t I already stolen something?” he asked leaning close.

“Non,” he whispered.  Warren leaned back hurt and Remy fled the kitchen.  Warren watched him go.

“What was that about?” Rogue asked.

Scratching his head, he said, “I don’t know.  He must be sensitive about his reputation as the only thief on the team.”

“But he’s not.”

“Hmm?”

“Storm used t’ run jobs with him.”

“I forgot about that.  Oh, well.  He must be moody.”  Warren excused himself and went to check on his e-mail before checking on Remy.  He felt he needed to give him some space before talking to him about the little exchange in the kitchen.

Warren knocked on Remy’s door and there was no response.  He knocked again, and then decided to try the door after no sound was the reply.  It was locked.  Sighing, he decided to take a flight.

Flying always cleared his head.  It was still warm out and the sun was sunken low, but not gone quite yet.  That was the only reason that Warren was able to spot the figure sitting on the edge of the roof.  He had circled the grounds a few times when he saw him and the faint puffs of smoke that trailed from him occasionally.

Warren swooped down and landed easily on the roof, spreading his wings wide at the last moment.  Remy watched him closely, admiring his wings as they passed through the air.  Stepping over to Remy, he sat next to him.  “I hope I didn’t offend you after dinner.”  He debated saying, “Angel hoped he didn’t…” but thought better of it.

“I’m jus’ bein’ a jackass.  I’m sorry, Warren.  I guess I jus’ wasn’ ready for Rogue to know.  I told her dat I was datin’ somebody else, but I didn’ say who.”

“Are you afraid of her reaction?”  Remy nodded as he thought that he didn’t want to hurt Rogue.  “I would be too.”  They paused comfortably.  “Can I take your mind off it?”

This offer intrigued Remy and one eyebrow rose.  He leaned in close to Warren and offered a kiss.  After it was accepted, Warren pulled away.  “I take that as a ‘yes.’”

Remy’s smile was tentative.  Then Warren grabbed Remy and jumped up unfolding his wings.  Hugging Warren tightly Remy held his breath for a few seconds as they caught an updraft that took them high above the grounds.

“What did you do today… if it’s okay to ask?” he said in a normal voice, but with his mouth right next to Remy’s ear so he could hear.  Remy was quiet for a minute, watching the scenery below them.

“I went to Penney’s.”

Warren’s smile was a little crooked.  “Pick up your last paycheck?”

Remy shook his head.  “Talk to Wendy.”

“Why?”

“Wanted to remember more about when I first started workin’ dere.  We talked an’ I remembered why I started hidin’.”

“Why?”

“Fear.  I wanted to disappear.”  He had been surprised how much insight Wendy had to his feelings when he first came to her.  She had picked up on his fear and he wondered to himself whether the woman might not be a low level telepath herself.

“From me.”  Remy nodded.

“De last time I saw you… de last time I remember, at de beginnin’ o’ summer last year—you threatened to kill me if y’ saw me.”

“I remember.  Remy, I’m so sorry about that.  Please, forgive me.”

“No need, Ange.”  He turned from the ground to Angel’s face and his wings behind him.  “We more dan all right now.”  Warren nodded his concurrence.

 

 

The Professor watched as Warren flew around the grounds with Remy, happy to see them getting along but worried that things could go very badly depending on Remy’s memory.

He made a note to ask Remy for a small meeting to check how things were going with Warren.  He hoped the young man would agree to it seeing as he was more irritable than usual.

 

 

 

Chapter V

 

 

Remy took a deep breath as he tapped on the Professor’s study door.  His goal was to eventually make a tap so soft that it went unnoticed so he could tell the Professor he went to his office and knocked but no one was there to see if he could get out of an appointment that way.  It hadn’t worked so far.

“Come in, Remy.”  Sighing, Remy stepped in.  The Professor couldn’t read Remy’s mind, but he could tell if he was there.  Apparently he just felt kind of staticy to telepaths.  The door didn’t creak open—no door in the house did thanks to Gambit’s tender oiling of hinges, but Remy still entered the room with a ginger attitude.

“Y’ wanted to see me?”

“Yes.  Please, sit down.”  That meant it was going to take a while.  Remy exhaled as he sat, but not loudly.  The Professor waited until Remy was seated and they could look at each other.  “How have things been going with Warren?”

“Things?” Remy asked, afraid of what the Professor could mean.

“You seem to be getting along with him.  Or was the flight yesterday another threat to drop you from a fatal height?”

“Non, Prof., he ain’t been threatenin’ me.”

“A romantic rendezvous, then?”

“What?” Remy balked at the Professor’s accuracy.

“Then you must be getting along.”

“Sure,” he said a bit miffed and looked away from the Professor so he wouldn’t have to be read like that.  He still wasn’t ready to—well come out of the closet, so to speak, not that he could remember being in a closet in the first place.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been particularly irritable lately and that has to put a strain on your relationship with Warren.”  Remy’s gaze snapped to Xavier.  “Whatever that may be,” Charles covered.  He knew that Remy at least had a relationship with Warren several months ago and that it turned out badly, but now that they were getting along, he was certain that there would be some romantic, if not more primitive, attraction between them no matter if Remy remembered the relationship or not.  Warren was the type to press an issue. 

Remy didn’t relax and his gaze was fixed on Charles.  When Chuck’s gaze wavered was when Remy knew something was up.  “Okay, Prof.  Let’s cut to de chase, non?”

“Certainly,” he said, clearing his throat.

Remy waited.  “Well?” he asked impatiently.

“Remy, I have gathered from Warren that you are looking for something… something elusive.”

 “As a matter o’ fact,” he said in confirmation.

“What if I told you I had what you’re searching for?”

“I’d either call y’ a liar, or jump across y’ desk an’ throttle y’,” Gambit said darkly.

“You asked me to take away the memory of the night in question, Remy, so I hid it from your conscious mind.  If you would like, I can restore those memories for you with little complication, but I urge you to talk with Warren about it before you do; there were quite a few cans of worms opened that night and those problems will not disappear just because you have a relationship with Warren now.”

“So I told you ‘bout all o’ dis?”

“Yes.”

“An’ den I asked y’ t’ invade my mind and wipe a day clean?  Start over ‘gain?”

“Yes, you did.  Remy, you were very hurt.”

“What coulda’ hurt so much?”

“I would say a combination of things.  Remy, you have to decide if you want these memories to be given back to you.  That’s why you should talk to Warren about why you left him the last time.  Please get back to me as soon as you can.  I will be waiting.”  Charles was certain that there were other things at work in Remy’s mind when he jaunted in to fulfill the young man’s request, but was unable to identify them and unwilling to breach his privacy like that.  The gift of this much trust was too valuable to risk like that.

The waiting assurance was Remy’s cue to get the heck out of his office and find Warren.

Warren was in his room on his computer doing something or other.  Remy didn’t pay attention to the screen.  “Warren, we gotta talk, homme.”

“Sure, Remy.  What about?” he asked turning away from the computer on a rotating stool.

“What did we talk about de morning after we… first slept togeder?  You said it made me mad.  I think dose tings need addressin’.”

“Now?”

“Would five o’clock be better on y’ schedule?” he asked sarcastically.

“No, fine.  Now’s good.”  Warren wasn’t anxious to address these issues.  They made him uncomfortable.  He took a deep breath.  “When I woke up that morning, you weren’t on the bed.  You were on the floor next to me, kneeling there.  When I asked you about it, you said you didn’t deserve to sleep in a bed.  I was so mad that I could have—I was mad.  I didn’t understand what had gotten into you.  It scared me.

“Then you started calling me… Maître.  That scared me even more.”

“Maître?  Master?”  Warren nodded.  “Why would I—“ Remy nearly choked where he stood.  A fragment of a memory came rushing back to him—

 

He knew that he’d better stay where he was, even though his legs had started to go numb as he knelt on them.  All he could do was look at the floor.  Fear filled his mind then pain as the leather snapped across his back feeling more like a burn than anything else.  “Say it, boy!” an unfamiliar voice cried out.

“Maître!”

“Good boy,” the voice said and he felt a hand grope his bare ass.

 

Remy was breathing hard on the floor, grabbing his head and feeling the memory of pain and touch.  He straightened on his knees as if straightening now would get him away from the touch in his memory.  What was that?  Did that actually happen?  He remembered no situation in which he would have been like that… but those were his cries he heard in his ears as the whip cracked down on him and he howled to please whoever held the whip.

“Remy!  Remy, please, speak to me!”  Warren was down on the floor with him—how did he get here?  Warren’s hands were on his shoulders, trying to get him to respond.

“Get away,” he said shortly, but firmly.  Warren let up.

“Remy, what happened?”

“I dunno, but I’m guessin’ de Prof has a good idea.”

“The Professor?  Remy, what’s going on?”

“He took my memories, Warren.”  Warren straightened and looked at Remy doubtfully.   “’Perantly I asked him to, but he said I needed to talk to you before I got dem back.”

“And that little episode?  Was that a memory of when we were together?”

“Not ‘less y’ used a whip on me.”

Warren leaned back, feeling a clench of shock around his heart.  “No, I didn’t.”

“What else did I do dat night, Warren?  Please, be very specific.”

“Remy, after what just happened, I’m not sure I want to tell you.”

“Does it get worse?”

“A little.”

“Go ‘head.  I’m little more prepared for it now.”  Remy braced himself and listened closely to Warrens words.

“I tried to get you to stand up, but you couldn’t—you must’ve been kneeling half the night.  I had to rub the blood back into your legs.  That was kind of hard because whenever I touched you, you wanted to touch me back.  You ended up crawling over me to… well, to suck me off.”

 

“Your job is to constantly give others pleasure, is that clear, boy?”

“Oui, Maître,” he mumbled.

“And speak up!” the crack of the whip again, across his ass this time.  He could hear the cry of pain after the snapping hiss.

“Oui, Maître!”

“You know how to do your job, boy?”

“Oui, Maître.”

“No matter your pain.”

“Oui, Maître.”

“Go to it, boy,” the man said and feet came into view.  He reached up tentatively to grasp a zipper and pull open slacks trying to ignore the pain from his back as he moved.  Looking up for clues about what he should do, he was smacked hard across the face with the hand holding the whip.  “Never look at your Maître, boy!  You take orders from me, you are not my equal.”

 

Remy was trembling still on the floor.  This was getting scary.  That carpet he kept seeing was beginning to look familiar and he was afraid of recognizing it.  “Do you want me to stop?”

“Non.  I jus’ wondered… when I did dat… did I look at y’?”

Warren looked back in his memory.  “Come to think of it, you didn’t.  Your eyes were always downcast.”

“Did y’ enjoy it?” Remy asked suddenly and looked up at Warren with anger hardening his eyes and the set of his mouth.

Warren’s mouth was open, trying to say something.  He didn’t know what to say—didn’t know what Remy wanted to hear.  Of course he had enjoyed it; Remy was good.  He ended up coming in Remy’s mouth that morning, but if he said that, he really might offend him.  It sounded like he was indignant.  “Remy… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“De truth.”

Nodding, Warren said, “Yes, Remy, I enjoyed it.  How could I not?  You seemed to like everything so much.  Even when I was scared for you it felt good.”  Warren paused trying to study Remy’s stone face.  “What are you remembering?”

“Being trained.”

“What?  Your thief’s training?”  That didn’t sound traumatic.

“Non.  Don’ know how old I was, but it was definitely after Jean-Luc found me.”

“What was it then?”

“What you saw dat night.  De makin’ of a slave.”  Remy couldn’t stop his trembling.  “Warren, I can’t place de carpet, but I know it.  Dat carpet is de answer.”

“Should we ask the Professor to put back your memories of the night we were together?”

“I don’ know,” he said feeling uncertain about everything.  What if he found that night to be nothing but an extension of the nightmare he was just unraveling?  What if the rest of the nightmare came to his conscious mind and he wanted nothing to do with Warren any more?  “Warren… if I remember all o’ dis… I might never want to see you again.  You okay wit’ dat?”

“I’ll have to be, Remy.  This is important.  If something happened to you, then you need to find out so you can move through it.  It’s more important that you be healthy than anything I could want.”  Remy nodded.

“Let’s go find out what de hell is up,” he said as Warren helped him to his feet.  They headed down stairs to the Professor’s office.  This time Remy made no attempt to hide his knock.

“Come in, Remy.”  When he saw Warren enter with him, he was a little surprised.  “Are you sure that you want Warren here for this?”

“For de moment,” he said.  “Prof. I been havin’… memory flashes.”

The Professor nodded.  “I did sense that there were some blocked memories buried deep within your consciousness.  I decided to leave them as they were because it is healthier for memories to come out on their own as opposed to being forced.  The mind’s defense mechanisms give the time necessary for the individual to heal before revealing the hurt.”

“Do we uncover everythin’?”

“No, only those memories that were artificially removed will I uncover.  The others will come in their own time.  That time may be right after the others are revealed, it may be years later.  Only time will tell.  It’s not like an erupting tooth where you can see its progress.”  Remy nodded in understanding.

Turning to Warren, Remy spoke softly.  “For what it’s wort’… y’ were good t’ me, Warren.  Merci.”  Warren nodded feeling like he was losing Remy all over again.  A lump developed in his throat and he tried to say a good-bye, but it didn’t come out.

“For what my feelings are going to be worth to you momentarily, Remy… I love you.”  Remy looked very pained at those words.  Warren knew that especially facing something like this that Remy could not repeat those words.  His stomach twisted and he reached for Remy one last time.

The kiss was intense, but pure… a kiss good-bye, not a kiss of passion.  After they parted, Warren chose to leave the room and Remy understood why.  He hoped that after all of this unearthing of memories cast aside he would still want to look at Warren the same way.  Facing the Professor, Remy went to the chair that was closest to him and pulled it so he was within arms reach when sitting. 

“I think I’m ready as I’m ever gon’ be, Prof.”

He nodded and asked Remy to relax and allow him access to his mind.  It was always difficult on the two to join their minds.  Remy was very tricky to handle, but the Professor felt the concerted effort to make it easier on him.

           

            The operation didn’t take but a few minutes.  Warren was waiting outside in the hallway, pacing back and forth.  He wasn’t anxious to see Remy’s angry face, but he did want to make sure he was all right.  Not sure if he should stay there and wait for him, or go back to his room to hide and let Remy seek him out if he wanted him, his pacing pattern grew in length.  He had made it half way to his room and was on his way back when he found it was too late.

            Remy was walking down the hall looking very confused.  He started shaking as he looked at the ground and out into space.  Warren ran up to him and took him by the shoulders.  “Remy?  Are you all right?  Remy?”

            Remy didn’t respond.  “Professor!” he called because his door was still open.

            “Warren?” came weakly from his office.  Warren guided Remy over to the Professor’s door and looked in at the Professor who was rubbing his head.  He looked up at them standing in the doorway, Remy with a vacant expression.  “Please, take Remy to his room.  Just as I was leaving his mind an explosion from the buried memories hit me.  I’m sorry.  He will be reliving many of them now.  I suggest you take him to get comfortable; all we can do is let these memories run their course.”

            “Yes, sir,” he said and gently guided Remy back the way he’d been headed.

            Half way up the stairs Remy cried out and collapsed onto the step in front of him like someone had just punched him.  He supposed that someone might have if he were reliving the horrible things that happened to him when he was a child.

            Warren finally made it up the stairs with Remy and was able to get him into bed.  Remembering that he got cold easily, he gathered an extra blanket for him and tucked him in.

            After thinking it through several times, Warren decided to go grab a stool so he could watch over Remy.  Not only did he need to know that Remy was okay, he thought Remy should wake up to someone he knew instead of waking up from cruel memories to an empty room.  He was expecting Remy to shy away from him after that, but as long as he was calm when he woke up, Warren would be able to live with it.

            It seemed like hours to Warren that he was sitting there, but who knew how long it had really been?  Warren was facing away from the clock on purpose.  Remy stirred occasionally and moaned out something or other a few times.  It was nothing really intelligible or pleasant, he guessed.

            Remy finally came around after his stirring got particularly violent.  “No more, please!” he cried as he shot up in bed covered in sweat.

            “It’s okay, Remy,” Warren said as he tried to reach out to Remy, but thought better of it.  After having a dream of being abused, you didn’t touch someone.  Remy was breathing heavily looking around, trying to locate the source of dangerous presence he felt.  “Remy?  Will you look at me?” he asked.

            Remy looked over at Warren and his eyes finally recognized him.  “Warren?”

            Warren smiled wanly.  “Yes, it’s me.  Are you going to be all right?  I could leave you alone now if you want?”  Remy looked away from Warren confused.

            “You don’t—“ he asked his eyes glassy.

            “Yes?” Warren prompted.

            “You don’t hate me?”

            “No,” Warren beamed a more relaxed and sincere smile.  “I don’t hate you at all.”

            Remy seemed to relax at that news and didn’t ask Warren to leave.  “You’re my Maître?”

            “No!”  Warren boomed.  It obviously scared Remy, but that question unnerved Warren.  “You have no master, Remy.”

            “But I—“ Remy looked like he was about to sob.  “I need a Maître.”

            “No, you don’t.  No one is going to order you around and when I get my hands on the creep who did this to you, Remy, he’ll never speak again.”

            Remy was obviously afraid by Warren’s attitude and curled up on the bed.  “Maître punish me now?”

            “Punish?  Remy, sit up, please.”  Remy seemed to know what to do with a command.  “Take deep breaths,” he coaxed.  Remy complied though his cadence for breathing was on the slow, sexy side.  “Good.  Now, do you remember who you are?”

            “I’m your boy,” Remy said seductively looking at Warren’s shoulder instead of his face.  Someone had programmed him good and this was getting out of control.  No wonder these memories and behaviors were suppressed.

            “No, you’re Remy Le Beau and you’re no one’s boy.”

            “Please take me, Maître.  I’m a good boy.”  He placed a hand on Warren’s chest and leaned toward him, closing his eyes before kissing him on the lips and letting his tongue slip out and caress Warren’s mouth.

            “No, Remy, please, don’t do this.”  It was torture to have to watch Remy like this.  “Look at me,” Warren asked.  Remy didn’t seem to know what to do with that one.  He raised his head slowly, but was very nervous about looking him in the eye.  “Look at me,” he said more firmly.  This time, Remy didn’t hesitate to look.  What Warren saw made him want to cry.  Remy’s eyes were looking at him like he was worshiping Warren.  “Stop that,” he said and looked away from Remy.  Remy went back to looking at the floor.  He decided that he needed to get the Professor to help with this.  He wasn’t going to be able to deal with Remy on his own.

            “Let me please you, Maître,” Remy plead.

            “God, Remy, if you ever wake up and found out that I—took advantage of you—again… how could you ever forgive me?”  He didn’t know how to deal with this.  “Remy, sit up,” he commanded.  Remy obeyed.  That was a start.  “Stay there until I call you again.  Don’t move.”  Remy didn’t move in acknowledgement, just looked at the covers on the bed.

            He hoped that was all right as he went to get the Professor.

 

            “Professor, it’s horrible.  I can’t believe he once acted like this.”

            “It’s likely that his memories still have a hold over him if he’s incorporating his mental state then into what he sees around him.  I will see what I can do.”  The Professor entered Gambit’s room to find the boy sitting just as Warren asked him to before he left.

            “Remy?”

            “Maître, is dis your friend?”

            “Yes, Remy, this is my friend, Charles.  He’s going to help you.”

            “Prèmier Maître says my job is to please oders.  Can I please you?” he asked the Professor.

            “Yes, Remy, you can please me very much.”  Remy waited for his orders.  “Lie down on your back and relax.”  Remy did as he was told and the Professor could feel the effort to relax from the man.  He tried gently to enter Remy’s mind and to separate the memories from his current conscious state.  As soon as the Professor was certain that he would be all right, he left as quietly as he entered.  “Remy?” he asked when he was back in his own body.

            “Professor?” he asked.

            “Yes, Remy.  How are you feeling?”

            “Kinda like m’ head’s been squished by a Mac truck.  You?”

            “I’m fine, Remy.  Do you remember what happened?  Do you remember… your training?”

            “Unfortunatement,” he moaned.  “Dieu, dat was weird.  It was like… bein’ trapped.”

            “Mmm.  It was very much like it.”

            “T’anks fer de help an’ all, Prof, but I’d like to be alone now.”

            “I understand.  Let me know if you would like to talk.”

            “I’ll let y’ know,” he said thinking that he probably wouldn’t want to talk any time soon.  He noticed Warren at the last second and felt his heart sink as he left the room.  Through his prisoner’s view of his actions he saw that Warren didn’t take advantage of his eager, if somewhat fucked up, state.  It relieved him.

            Turning to his other problem, namely his fucked-upedness, he saved figuring out the situation with Warren for another time.

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

 

            First there was pain and nothing else for a long time.  A voice kept telling him that he was to obey, but they wouldn’t tell him what.  For a while he had fought back, but then he got too tired to move and the pounding kept coming.  He was scared and then he simply knew that the many voices would beat him without reasoning.  There was no reason to beat him like this—he was doing nothing wrong.

            He counted on the beatings every day for he didn’t know how long.  They were the only thing he could set his clock by.  He had no watch, had no clothes at all when he thought about it, which wasn’t often.  After the whipping and beating there was always stinging.  That was almost worse than the cuts themselves, but not quite.

            Not knowing how long he was in there for didn’t make the time pass any more quickly.  He didn’t know when he finally broke, but somewhere, one of the voices was telling him to do what they told him to and he screamed out that they hadn’t told him to do anything and that he would do whatever they said if the pain would just stop.

           That was his desperation point and they had crossed it.  He was let down at that point and given instructions.  Instructions that he didn’t like at all.

 

********************

 

            The carpet was a pretty piece from Iran Remy noted when he looked at it as it appeared in his mind’s eye.  At the time he could remember concentrating on its detail for distraction purposes.  If he thought about how deep the red looked, he wouldn’t have to think how deep the red on his back was.

            “Get on your knees, boy,” he heard the again, unfamiliar voice command from behind him.  Remy was already on his knees, but he was huddled over, looking closely at the carpet.  He got up so that he was in a more erect posture, gaze still cast downward.  He saw the same shoes come stand in front of him.  They were patent leather.  “Do your job,” said the man above him.  Reaching out with fear, but fearing more what would happen if he didn’t do it, he unzipped the man’s gray slacks and dug out the hard cock buried beneath.  Leaning closer he licked at him, ignoring the salty taste. 

            Remy was aware that there were other people in the room, but he tried to ignore them.  He didn’t know what they were here for.  Their eyes made his exposed skin tingle.  The oddest sensation started to tug at him; it was as if he were being licked himself where he was licking his Maître.  He let up from licking the very hard cock in front of him to look down at himself to see if someone was there.  There was someone there—another boy, about his age, but he didn’t recognize him.

            “Never ignore your task!” there was a shout and the boy below him let up as the whip cracked down over Remy’s back again.  He cried out and hurried back to sucking with more vigor than before, trying to distract himself from the pain in his back.  When he returned to sucking his Maître, he was sucked again by the other boy.  His hips started to buck to him and his Maître bucked into his mouth.  He had to fight not to gag as the thick rod of flesh hit the back of his throat.  He didn’t want to think about what would happen should he throw up during his task.

            A feeling in between his legs started to build and rise and he was bucking hard and sucking furiously as he felt the other boy’s mouth fill with a liquid that he swallowed around.  That was incredible.  He felt the same bucking come from his Maître and found the same liquid unexpectedly come spurting into his mouth.  He wasn’t sure about what he should do with it, but decided he should brace himself and swallow like the young man who was working on him did.  It was thick when it went down, but Remy tried not to think about it.  He thought about the boy who was still below him instead.

            When Remy let up from his Maître, the boy below him let up as well. He looked into the brown eyes of the boy who had just given him pleasure and the boy stared back at Remy in awe.   A hand came down and pulled his face away from the boy below him and lifted his chin.  Out of fear, Remy averted his eyes from the man who wanted to see his face.  “What a natural.  You’ll actually get food tonight.”

            His Maître zipped himself back up and went to talk to the other men in suits that were in the room.  Remy watched their feet as they stood and talked.  The other boy was brown haired with brown eyes that looked directly into his.  Was he not afraid of being whipped?  Remy kept his eyes only for a few seconds, but decided he should look away.  The boy was just as naked as Remy, but he kept a different posture than Remy.  He was relaxed on his side while Remy knelt where he was.

            Remy couldn’t help but notice that the other boy was hard.  He moved a little toward him and when he was not scolded, he leaned over and took the other boy in his mouth.  A sharp intake of breath told him that the boy liked it.  He heard chuckling from the other men in the room and his Maître seemed to be pleased.  “There, you see?  He’ll be ready within a month or two.”   Relieved, Remy took more of him into his mouth.  Pleasing his Maître was the only thing that would keep him out of trouble.

           “Claude, I have other work for you.  Boy, release him,” Remy heard the command and reluctantly let him go; Claude’s dick was nice and manageable in his mouth and even tasted nice.  Claude looked Remy in the eyes again before standing up and leaving with the other men in suits.

            Remy was left alone again and knelt where he was and waited, looking at the carpet. 

            Being in that room for what he could only think was an hour gave him time to look at the rest of the things in the room.  There was a dark mahogany desk, that he was frequently beside, but the chair had been moved.  There was a plant in the office, but it was obviously fake. 

            Remy couldn’t feel his legs any more and his Maître finally came back in.  “Boy, you’ve been good today.  You get a day to rest.”  Remy was glad to hear that.  He didn’t really know what it meant, but rest was going to be good.

            Remy’s Maître rubbed Remy’s legs so he could stand on them.  Even as his legs were rubbed, though he didn’t look into his Maître’s eyes.  All he could discern from his peripheral vision was that the man had a beard.  His hair was dark, but the rest of his face Remy couldn’t see with any detail.

            Standing up, Remy was taken to a room with a bunk bed in it elsewhere in the house.  The house looked vaguely familiar like Remy could almost place it as he ran through the memories, but it just wasn’t quite reachable.  When Remy got into the room with the bunk bed, he jumped into it and rolled himself in the covers like a cocoon.  Only minutes later did the door open and in stepped the boy Remy remembered as Claude.  He was carrying a tray of food and was just as naked as before.

           Stepping in, Claude set the tray on the night stand next to Remy’s bed and went to close the door behind him.  Claude smiled at Remy.  “You know, you’re not supposed to do that.”

            Remy blinked at him.  “Do what?” he asked.

            “Roll up in the covers like that.  The Masters don’t like it.  They like to reach you when they want.”

            “Oh,” Remy whispered.  He feared the idea of someone coming up and touching him like that whenever they wanted to.  Mostly he was afraid of being beaten.

            Claude sat on the edge of Remy’s bed and pulled his covers down to expose Remy’s face.  “You have very interesting eyes.  I liked them from the moment I saw them.”

            “Merci?”  Claude smiled.

            “You should eat.  I brought enough for both of us.  Are you hungry?”  Judging by Claude’s accent, he wasn’t from the south and how he ended up in this place was beyond Remy.  Remy nodded to Claude’s question and began to untangle himself from the blankets.  The tray was set in the middle of the bed so they both could take a plate and eat.  The food was great and Remy gobbled it up.  He was curious about Claude.  The boy seemed very nice, but he exuded the air of experience as well.

            “Why are you here, Claude?”

            Claude looked up at Remy and one side of his mouth quirked up around a mouthful of food.  He waited until he had swallowed before answering.  “For the same reason you are.  My Master is lending me to your Maître.”

            “Why did you… do dat… in de oder room?”

            “To show you what it feels like.  If you do what you’re told, there is much pleasure with your Master.”

            “Maître just beat me.”

            “He’s your Master, you have to do what he says.  You won’t get hurt if you do.”  Remy nodded, but he still didn’t understand the answers to funhdamental questions like why he was here.  He turned to his food again and was long finished with the tray out of the way before he spoke again.

            “Did you like it… in de oder room?”

            “Yes.  I always like it.”

            “So… when de Maître says to give pleasure….”

            “You get to receive pleasure too.”  Claude leaned in to Remy and kissed him long, but lightly on the lips.  His hands glided over Remy’s shoulders and down to his nipples where he teased them.  Remy was breathing heavily and leaned into the kiss, trying to mimic Claude’s moves.  Claude broke the kiss and looked Remy in the eye, “But sometimes, the pleasure we have to get is from here,” he said pointing to his head.  “You have to give your own pleasure without touching yourself, otherwise your Master will get mad.”

            “I don’ understand….”

            “You will.  Soon.”  Claude drew back the covers and pushed Remy back onto the bed.  Claude’s soft lips enveloped him again and Remy was grabbing the sheets.

            “Claude… what about you?”

            “Do you want me?” he asked, coming up to speak.

            “Oui,” Remy said breathlessly.  He wanted to please Claude because he liked him and wanted to make him happy, not because he feared him like with his Maître.  Remy sucked on Claude when he moved and liked the way he fit inside his mouth and liked even more how much pleasure Claude gave him.  It wasn’t long until Remy was exploding into Claude’s mouth and Remy sucked hard through it, but Claude was still hard.  He knew it felt best when the squirting happened, so he decided he’d better keep on until Claude had finished.

            It surprised Remy how long Claude could be hard for and his mouth was aching before he quit, but he did manage to make Claude cum.  “I’m sorry that I took so long.  You were so good—I didn’t want it to end.  I’m sorry.  Are you sore?”  Remy nodded, not looking at Claude.  “It’s okay, you can look at me.  We are equals,” Claude smiled.

 

***********************

 

            “Your Maître thinks that I should show you something new,” Claude said and Remy wondered briefly why the boy never addressed him.  Remy waited for Claude to continue.  “It’s a little hard to do at first, but after that, you’ll like it.”  Remy looked warily at Claude.  The boy had never lied to him before and he had been very helpful in showing Remy the ropes; he had been beaten very few times since Claude started being his room mate.  Remy nodded.  Claude looked relieved at Remy and kissed him before rummaging through his drawer and pulling out a tube.  “You always need to find some of this before you do this for your Master,” he explained opening the tube.

            Claude motioned for Remy to hold out his hand and squeezed some clear gel out onto it.  The gel was cold.  “Close your hand,” he instructed and Remy did.  “Now, put your hand on my dick and stroke me,” he said.  Remy was a little clumsy when he was doing it, but Claude still seemed to like it, bucking into Remy’s hand a little.  “Good.  Turn around.”  Remy turned away from Claude on the bed and Claude knelt behind him.  Remy felt Claude’s fingers probing his crack like his Maître had done on several occasions.  It always made Remy feel tingly and nervous, like when people were watching him perform for his Maître. 

            When Claude’s fingers slipped inside him though Remy jumped and bucked.  It was such an intrusion and the tingling he felt grew in intensity and he started to tremble.  “Claude, what is dis?”

            “We’re not done yet.”  Remy nodded and prepared himself for more.  Looking down at the covers, he saw that he was hard and he started to concentrate on the remembered pleasure of Claude’s mouth on him.  That allowed the pleasure of being penetrated to be brought out.  “Relax,” Claude said.  Remy tried to relax, but didn’t think he was doing a very good job.  “You’re so hot,” Claude praised as he slid his fingers in and out of Remy’s body.  That sliding motion made Remy squirm.  “Does it feel good?”

            “Oui,” Remy actually moaned.

            “Good.  There’s going to be more.  Relax.”  Claude put his dick to Remy’s entrance and pushed gently in.  Remy sucked in his breath and held it.  It was like a pop when Claude’s head was all the way in and Remy let his breath out.  “You’re doing well,” Claude said reassuringly.

            “It hurts, Claude,” Remy complained.

            “I’m sorry,” Claude said and reach around Remy to put his slicked up hand on Remy and stroke him.  Then he gently started to move and Remy bucked wildly on the cock inside him when Claude hit that special spot deep within.  “You’re so hot.  You feel so good.  Yes, fuck me, please,” Claude was begging and it made Remy feel good; like he had power of a sort.  Remy worked all he could against Claude and before Remy knew it Claude was screaming and grabbing Remy’s hips to control his thrusts into the boy.

            His thrusts were smaller and harder at the end when he finished and after that, he leaned over Remy and kissed his shoulder.  “Oh, you’re ready.  Your Maître will be pleased.  He is bigger than me, so you have to be careful, but you’ll do just fine.”

 

************************

 

            “Boy, you had better do something to please me in ten seconds or you are going to get a beating.”  The other men in the room that Remy had never seen before were staring at him intently making him nervous.

            Remy racked his brain for what he could do and remembered what Claude had shown him.  He looked for a tube of the gel that Claude had used and saw one sitting on the desk nearby.  Stepping over to the desk, he picked it up.  He turned to his Maître and opened his pants like he always did and pulled out the monster cock.  Remy didn’t remember it being that big and wondered if he could do this or not.  He wondered if his seconds were up yet and so leaned down to suck his Maître so he wouldn’t get in trouble and handled the tube after his lips were securely around his Maître.  He squeezed more lube into his hand than he thought he would need and leaned up from sucking to coat his Maître’s cock in the stuff.  Remy turned and tried to back onto the cock, but he didn’t have the angle quite right.  The slicked cock ended up rubbing in between his cheeks and still feeling good.  Remy moaned a little and then he was pushed over the nearby desk and impaled harshly.  He cried out, but tried to suck it up and feel the pleasure Claude had shown him.  It was very tight because his Maître was very big, but once he started moving it became much better and Remy started moaning and bucking.

            “Oh, Maître,” Remy moaned to him, trying to please him.

            “You like this, boy?” his Maître asked as he pounded into Remy’s ass.

            “Oui, Maître.”

            “Then cum, boy.”  Remy had never been asked to do that before.  He didn’t know how to unless someone was sucking on him or he was playing with himself.  His hand found its way down to his crotch, but his hand was jerked away.  “No!”

            “May I?” a voice asked from the side.  Remy looked over at what had happened.  His Maître was pumping into him casually now as one of the men he didn’t recognize came up to them both and had spoken.

            “If you wish.”  His Maître sounded more gentle and inviting than he had ever sounded to Remy and the strange man that had spoken sounded even more kind than that.  Remy was pulled away from the desk so the man in a business suit could sit below him.  Remy braced his hands against the desk so he would be stable.  Remy’s Maître began bucking harder and the man in front of him began sucking on him.  Remy was flying in two seconds flat, bucking in between the two men.  He didn’t last long.

            Remy was vaguely aware of some of the things that were being said around him in his disorientation afterward.  “That was the first interactive demonstration I’ve held,” he heard his Maître comment.

            “I thoroughly enjoyed it,” commented the nice man who had come to suck on Remy.  He would always remember that voice.

            “It was certainly an interesting display, but I’m sorry to say that I don’t think any of us are going to outbid you, Samuel.”  They all laughed and Remy tried to not pay attention and look at the carpet.

            “You certainly won’t.  How much is the boy going for?”

            “Twenty thousand.”

            “One could purchase a new car for that,” commented one of the other businessmen.

            “This boy is a mutant.  Quite a rare prize if you ask me.”

            “I wouldn’t need to ask you to know that.  It’s done.  Please bring the boy in some fitting clothes to my home at seven o’clock.”

            “Certainy, Samuel.”

 

***********************

 

            The clothes Remy wore itched and made him feel trapped.  His Maître steered him by the shoulders down a hallway and into the living room of a very large home.  It was very clean and beautiful with rugs running the length of the hallways and hardwood floors underneath.  “Ah,” Remy remembered him addressing his Maître by name, but couldn’t even now remember what the name was.  “Thank you for being so punctual.  What is the boy’s name?” he asked kindly.

            “Remy,” Maître commented quietly.

            “As in Remy Le Beau?”

            Maître cleared his throat and Samuel obviously took it as an affirmative.

            “I do not relish the idea of purchasing something that I will have to return, if you catch my meaning.”

            “He is with me for the summer at the least.”

            “It is half over with.”

            “I’ll devise an excuse to his father by the end of it.  An accident.  The boy’s father will never suspect.”

            “Make sure you do,” he had said the name again menacingly.  “I become attached to things very quickly and do not want to have him taken from me.  Trouble with the Thieves Guild is notoriously detrimental financially and personally.”

            “I completely understand, Samuel.”

            “Very well.  Tell me when you’ve given your story and condolences to his family.”

            “Certainly.” Maître let go of Remy and left down the hallway they had come through and Remy stood there staring at the floor.  His carpets were of a solid color, but with a pattern in texture.

            “Remy?”  Remy looked up at the man out of instinct, but then looked down afraid of getting punished.  “Don’t worry, Remy.  I like your eyes.  Please look at me.”  Tentatively, Remy lifted his eyes.  “I won’t say that you have nothing to fear from me, but I will say that I only beat for major infractions and I will ask you not to do something before you get beaten for it.”

            “But… I’m not your equal….”

            “That is very true,” Samuel said as he rose from his seat in the parlor.  “But you are my possession, and I do like to look at my possessions.”  He held Remy’s chin in a hand gently and lifted his face.  “Your eyes should be displayed,” he said in near awe.  “No wonder they call you Le Diable Blanc.”  It wasn’t the first time Remy had heard that name, but he was surprised that the man knew it.

            For the first time, Remy was able to get a good look at an adult.  The man who held his face was handsome looking with long golden brown hair that was loose around his shoulders.  Golden eyes stared back at him, much the color of his hair, analyzing him.  His long fingered hands slid over Remy’s cheeks and Remy recalled thinking that his hands might envelope his entire face if they wanted to.  “I don’t suppose they fed you much.  Are you hungry, Remy?”

            Remy nodded.  Samuel nodded and took Remy by the shoulder to guide him like Gaston had done.  They came into a large kitchen and Remy stared in awe at all of the contraptions.  “Feel free to get comfortable, Remy.  This is your home now.”

            Wondering exactly what he meant, but not trusting the man yet, he decided that comfortable meant like he was at the other place where he didn’t feel restricted by clothing, so he stripped.  When Samuel turned around and saw Remy naked he was surprised, putting a loosely curled hand over his mouth, then it turned into a chuckle.  “Remy, you don’t have to be undressed if you don’t want to.”  Remy’s brow crinkled in confusion.  “Did you want to take off your clothes?”  Remy nodded.  “Then that’s fine.  Just make sure that if you do that again that the blinds are drawn,” he said and referred to the blinds that were already drawn closed in the kitchen.  Remy nodded.

            Samuel turned to finish getting together whatever it was and said, “Please fold your clothes and put them on a chair for me, Remy.”  He folded the suit and tie up and stuck them on a chair at the table.

            “I hope you like turkey.”

            “Oui.”

 

***********************

 

            “Do you like it?” Samuel asked and held out a small gold ring.  It had small rubies and onyx set into the band and Remy’s eyes lit up.

            “It’s pretty.”

            “I had it made just for you.”  Remy looked surprised up at Samuel who was smiling that sweet smile of his that he reserved exclusively for Remy.

            “Why?”

            “To let everyone know that you belong to me.”  Remy looked at the side of the ring and it read, ‘Samuel Cunningham.’  That must be his new Maître’s name.  The ring fit Remy’s ring finger and he slipped it on.  “Please don’t ever take it off.”  Remy nodded at the request.

 

***********************

 

            “Remy, I’m home!”  Remy came down the stairs and flew into Samuel’s arms.  The blinds were always closed and Remy was nearly always naked.  It was generally hot enough that clothing made Remy uncomfortable and Samuel didn’t object.  Samuel would greet him at the parlor entrance every day with an intense kiss that made Remy feel worth something.  This time, Samuel’s hands ran down Remy’s back and down to his ass cheeks, sliding fingers into him.  “Remy, I want you now.”

            “I’m ready for you, Samuel.”  Samuel had needed to ask Remy seven times before he would call him Samuel on a consistent basis. 

            “I can see that,” he said as his fingers slid inside Remy’s hot body.  Remy was unfastening Samuel’s slacks before he leaned away from the boy.  Pulling out the most gorgeous penis Remy had ever seen he knelt to suck it.  Samuel was good to Remy; he hadn’t beaten him once and Remy couldn’t imagine a better master.  “Ah, Remy, you’re so good at that,” Samuel said as Remy bobbed his head up and down wanting to please Samuel.  “But I don’t want to cum in your mouth tonight,” he said breathlessly.

            Remy knew what that meant and he finished his sucking then leaned away from him.  He stood up and had to stand on his tip toes to get a kiss and even then, Samuel had to lean down to him.   Finessing the buttons of Samuel’s shirt open had been something Remy’s flexible little hands had gotten good at quickly.   Remy enticed Samuel over to the couch and drug him down to lay on top of Remy.  The way their skin felt when it rubbed together made Remy want constant contact from Samuel.  Samuel was kissing Remy on the couch, playing with him when suddenly he thrust into Remy’s body and Remy grabbed onto Samuel hard and shouted.  “Samuel!  Please, more—I—ah!”  Remy was always very verbal with Samuel and he seemed to like it.  After he found that he could make noise and not be punished for it, he started paying attention to what sounds Samuel liked.  He liked the desperate sounds most of all, Remy guessed; he got more desperate himself whenever Remy made them.

            Capturing Samuel’s mouth, Remy didn’t want to let it go—he wanted to suck on Samuel’s cock at the same time as making love to him and made due by sucking his tongue.  Swallowing the shout that came from Samuel, Remy smiled as he felt Samuel cum deep inside him.  Samuel looked at Remy after that and smirked.  “Where did you learn how to do that?”

            Remy looked embarrassed at Samuel.  “I wanted to suck on your cock some more, but it were busy, so…” he explained weakly.

            “You’re either a natural or you’re lying,” Samuel said as he rose from Remy’s body.

            “Samuel, I’d never lie to you!” Remy objected.  “You’re m’ Maître….  I don’ wanna lie t’ you.”  Samuel seemed to take that answer as satisfactory and buttoned back up.

            “Well, as a reward for being so honest with me, Remy, I’m going to do something special for you.”

            Remy’s eyes grew bright at the thought of something Samuel would do for him.  He started to get up, but Samuel put a hand on his chest to keep him seated.  Leaning over, he took Remy in his mouth and started making him wet, his tongue moving around inside his mouth.  Remy’s breath came out in a shudder and he bucked his hips up a little.  “Unh, Samuel...” he moaned.  “More….”  Samuel lifted up Remy’s hips and stuck two fingers into his writhing body and Remy cried out in response.  When the fingers reached far back enough to rub that spot he convulsed and came calling out his master’s name.

            Samuel kissed Remy gently on the lips and they smiled at each other.  Samuel came off of him and smiled at the boy who was looking nervously at him.

                 Remy’s nervousness evaporated at the smile he was given.

                 

                                                              *****************

                 

                             “Remy, I want to have a party.  Do you mind?” Samuel’s voice asked.

                             “Party?  Like a birthday party?”

                             “Like that, but for a different reason.  I want to celebrate you coming to live with me.  What do you think about that?” Samuel’s face came into view and his eyes were calculating Remy’s response even before he made it.

                             “It sounds like it would be fun.  Would we play games?”  Samuel smiled very brightly at this question.

                             “Yes.  But not games children would play.”

                             “Grown up games?  Like cards?”

                             “Better than even cards.”

                             “Den it sounds like lots of fun.  Who will come?”

                             “I have several friends who are very anxious to meet you, Remy.”  Remy blushed.

                             “Why do they want to meet me?”

                             Samuel’s smile became sly.  “You are my most prized possession.  I want to show you off, and you are worth seeing.  There are a few men that are going to have that privilege.  We will plan for it this weekend.”  Remy smiled excitedly. 

                 

                                                               ****************

                 

                             Remy couldn’t help but notice how he was the only one present who was not wearing any clothes as the men came into the living room.  They each stared at Remy and he wasn’t sure what to do, really.  Samuel trailed in after the men and stepped over to Remy so he wouldn’t have to worry about it any more.  “Gentlemen, this is Le Diable Blanc, Remy Le Beau.”  There were a few intakes of breath from the men, but the response was mostly quiet.

                             The men started complimenting Samuel on Remy and what a fine prize he was and Samuel practically beamed with pride.  Remy was happy that Samuel was looking pleased, but he wasn’t sure what he was expected to do.

                             “Won’t you give us a kiss?” asked a heavy, bearded gentleman that sounded foreign to Remy and he looked oddly at the man before trying to get Samuel’s attention.  He ended up putting a finger up to postpone the request from the stranger and went and tapped Samuel on the shoulder.

                             “Yes, Remy?”

                             “De man wants a kiss?  Is dat okay? ‘Cause I’m your boy,” he explained.

                             “Ah, yes, of course.  Excuse me for a moment,” he said to the men he was talking with.  “Tonight, gentlemen, Remy will be at your disposal—and tonight only, so have your fill of him this evening; after this I’ll not share.”  The men around the room laughed at Samuel’s delivery and resumed conversation. 

                             The gentleman in the beard came up to Remy again and said, “Now that it’s okay with your master, won’t you give us a kiss?”

                             Remy leaned in to offer the kiss and found the man’s whiskers to bristle against his skin rather uncomfortably, but he ignored that.  He didn’t want to offend any of Samuel’s guests; he got the impression that he was the entire reason they were here.  The man deepened the kiss and Remy found the man’s tongue coming out to play.  He sucked it in as Samuel seemed to like that and found                 himself grabbed by the burly man.  “You’ve got quite the mouth on you,” he said in his weird accent again.  “Let’s see how else you can use it.”  The man reached down to unfasten his pants and Remy helped him slide his pants down and pulled out the man’s member—which was pretty big; about the size of his Prèmier Maître’s cock. 

                             The other men seemed to take interest as he sank to his knees and started sucking on Samuel’s guest and the man muttered something about how good Remy was.  “You’ll not have all the fun with the boy,” a stronger, more familiar accent stated and he felt someone draw near to them both and unbutton his own pants.  He heard the squeeze of lube and wasn’t surprised that someone was                 fondling his ass.  He stuck it out for better access.

                             “The pretty boy has a pretty ass, but I really like that dick of his,” commented another accented voice.

                             He felt the intrusion into his ass first and wiggled on it.  It wasn’t so big of a cock to take that it was uncomfortable and felt good as it slid inside him and brushed up against that magic spot Remy loved so much.  The next thing he felt was something warm and wet and less giving than a mouth slide over his penis.  He moaned out loudly at all the stimulation and looked down to see what was              happening to his dick.

                             One of the guests had lubed himself up after removing his own pants and scooted back onto Remy’s cock.  He was on all fours in between the legs of the big foreign man and Remy couldn’t believe how incredible it felt to have such a tight sheath around his cock.

                             Remy felt like he could barely take all of this stimulation.  It was incredible, if a little uncoordinated.  He had taken to keeping his eyes open now that he had no fear of being beaten and he saw that another man came up behind the man he was sucking off.  The man whose ass he was in started sucking on him and Remy was nearly blown away at the thought of so many people being pleased all                at once.  He moaned out urgently and sucked in earnest on his one patron, while squeezing his ass muscles around the other and bucking uncontrollably into the third.  He was spent and figured that he nearly passed out.  He was just conscious enough to feel his first patron cumming in his mouth.

                 

                             That was far from the end of the evening, and Remy found that he was expected to please several people that evening.  At one point, he was kneeling in front of one man and being taken by another when the parlor doors opened rather loudly and in came a woman who was dressed nicely just like the men.

                             “I knew I’d find you here, Gerald,” she said in a rather tight tone.  Remy stopped what he was doing as Gerald pulled out of his mouth and covered himself up.  “Oh, don’t bother.  I’ve known about this…fascination of yours since before we were married.”  She looked at Remy, nearly accusingly and Remy swallowed at the woman’s face, which was contorted with anger, then smoothed over.

                        “This boy is going to need to learn how to please a woman eventually,” she said and unzipped her skirt.  “He should have a taste.”

                    She walked over to Remy and let her skirt fall in front of him.  She was wearing thigh highs with a garter belt, which looked very pretty,  however, she was not wearing underwear, nor did she have any pubic hair, like so many of the men he’d run into did. 

                   She moved over to beside the couch and put one foot up on it, then looked at Remy.  “Come here.”  Remy scooted over to her and knelt in front of her, then looked up at her.  Samuel had given him permission to look at everyone and he was thankful for that.  It allowed him to read everyone that he was trying to please.  “Do you know what to do with this?” she asked and spread her pussy lips                 apart to indicate her vagina.  Remy shook his head.  He had seen them before, but he didn’t know much else.

                    Looking at Samuel, she chided him, “Samuel, really.”  He smiled at her and shook his head as if to dodge all responsibility for his training.

“He came fully trained for my purposes,” he responded.

           The woman hmpfed and turned back to Remy.  “You use your tongue,” she said.  “Suck on this,” she indicated the little nub at the top, “you lick up through these,” she indicated her lips, “and you stick your tongue in here,” she said indicating the hole farther down.  It sounded straightforward to Remy and he nodded to her instructions.  “Let’s see how you do.”

                            Remy leaned into her and smelled her musk, licking experimentally at her lips.  She pushed her hips toward him and he licked deeper into her lips, sliding up and flicking the clit with his tongue.  She shivered at that and he sucked on the little nub next.  Gerald, her husband, came up behind her and slipped his penis into the hole she had pointed out.  They were having sex and he was sucking                 her.  That must give her a lot of pleasure, and he experimented with sucking her and licking them both, starting back at his cock, and rising all the way up to her clit.

                             The rest of the men had gathered around the display and some were stroking themselves, and the man who had been in his ass earlier resumed, having a front row seat to the activities of the spouses and the boy.  A man, having much the same idea as the one before, snuck in between the legs of the couple and impaled himself on Remy’s dick and Remy saw him eating at the ass of the man  fucking his wife.  Remy had never had that one done to him before and was curious about it.

                        When all of his current patrons had come, he went to the man who had been fucking himself on Remy and asked, “Monsieur, I’ve never… done what you were doing to de monsieur wit’ de wife.  Would you show me how to do dat?”

                       His face lit with a scheming smile and Remy was leaned back onto the couch and his legs spread wide, his ass hole exposed.  He grabbed a cloth from a nearby table and wiped Remy clean of all lubrication, swiping a little bit inside him.  Remy shuddered a little.

                 The man didn’t say anything, but leaned in licked gently at Remy’s ass cheeks, then slowly covered a wet trail toward the center of him. He was anxious for the feeling as this new sensation sent shivers through him just on his skin.  A wet tongue slipped into his relaxed hole and it clenched closed.  Remy squirmed and writhed around the tongue.  It felt so incredible, it was all pleasure and no pain,                 barely even intrusion… like a hint of intrusion and that had Remy panting.  “Monsieur…” Remy moaned, wanting more, yet wanting him to keep doing exactly what he was. 

                       The man stopped after a few minutes of Remy wiggling around on the couch and then smiled at Remy and kissed him deeply.  He winked as he departed, to converse with some of the other men in the room and Remy was instantly grabbed up by someone else.  The very young man who grabbed him next was looking at Remy’s eyes and marveling.  “Samuel did get quite a prize, didn’t he?”

                       The question was rhetorical, but Remy hadn’t heard of them before.  “Dat’s what he says,” he responded.  The young man smiled at him and leaned in to Remy to kiss him.  Remy kissed back and let his tongue enter the other man’s mouth.  He moaned into Remy’s mouth and then they parted.  “Can I…do for y’ what dat man was jus’ doin’ f’ me?” he asked, a little shy.

                       The young man smiled at Remy and said, “I would enjoy that very much.”  He undid his slacks and bent over the couch with his rear in the air so Remy could get at him.  Remy was nervous about doing this, but he had felt that way about almost everything that was new to him.  Leaning in with his tongue extended, he dipped straight in for the man’s ass hole.  Remy wasn’t expecting the man to buck at his ministrations, but he did, and was loud about it.  “More, please, don’t stop,” he said urgently.  Remy let his hands glide up his sides and placed them as measures of control so he wouldn’t buck up and make Remy bite off his own tongue.  The man was being quite wild and Remy wondered what would happen if he dipped his tongue even farther into him.  He found it difficult to get very far in, due to the limited length of his tongue, but it was enough that he could feel pressure on his tongue when the man squeezed his muscles in ecstasy.  He thought afterward that Samuel would probably have a mess to clean up on the couch, and around the floor too, now that Remy thought about it; the man came very hard into the couch and Remy smiled at him. 

                       “Tanks,” Remy smiled to the man before he left him to be picked up by another, older man.

                       Remy had pleased nearly all of the people that were at the party at least twice before the party ended, which was well into the night.  Samuel was the last to be pleased, but his session was in private after all the guests had left.  Samuel was particularly possessive of Remy that night when they were in bed together and Remy wondered whether or not Samuel really wanted all those people over.  He was rough in his penetration of Remy and came rather quickly, compared to most times they had been together.  Remy didn’t mind, he just thought it unusual.

                 

                                                                                                                                     

*********************

 

            Remy hadn’t been the type of kid to have nightmares; he was very practical about the things that could and couldn’t hurt him.  He’d never really had a reason to believe that anyone would hurt him, especially after he was taken in by Jean-Luc, but that night, he dreamed about the beating that seemed to never end.

            He woke screaming out, “Poppa!” and Samuel was up with him, holding him.

            “What is it, my pet?” he asked kindly from beside him.

            “I wan’ m’ poppa,” he cried feeling very homesick.  He really loved Jean-Luc and Mattie and even Henri, but mostly, he liked the security he had with them in their home.

            “You have me now, pet.  You don’t need your father any more,” his voice then seemed more like saccharine than sugar to Remy as he felt the undertone of anger in the man’s voice and that scared him.  He hadn’t seen Samuel angry before and he wasn’t eager to.  “Now then, let’s not hear any more talk about your family, hmm?  I’m your family, Remy.  I’ll take care of you.”  Remy nodded in his embrace, but couldn’t imagine never seeing Jean-Luc again. 

            “I can’t go visit dem?”

            “No!” Samuel shouted angrily and yanked Remy away to look him in the face.  At Remy’s scared expression he calmed down and hugged the teenager to him again.  “If anyone ever finds you here with me, they’ll take you away.  You won’t be able to see your family again either.  Everyone in this world wants you, Remy.  We won’t be able to have any fun together if they take you, will we?”  Remy shook his head.  He did like being with Samuel, but he really wanted to see his family.  Why couldn’t he have both?  “Go back to sleep, Remy.  I’ll protect you from whatever monsters are in your dreams,” he consoled as he drew Remy into his arms to sleep.

 

 

 

Chapter VII

 

 

 

Remy came out of his deep reverie with cold tear tracks along his cheeks.  Once he realized that he was crying, a fresh, hot wave swept down his face, quickly cooling and jarring his heart.  He felt so confused by these memories because he looked on his master, Samuel, as his savior from the slavers who beat him and trained him, but he was really no better than they were, and ultimately violated the trust that the young man gave him so long ago.  When Samuel heard him talking of his family a second time was when he became enraged and beat Remy senseless.  Feeling betrayed and desperate enough to move through the pain he was in, he gathered the clothes that he had come in with and ran from Samuel’s house while he was at work. 

He didn’t know where he was, but he was able to ask for directions to New Orleans and hitchhike there without too much trouble.  He was in his father’s embrace and crying into Tante Mattie’s lap as soon as he got home.

Remy didn’t want to explain about the things that had happened with Samuel, but his father had insisted that he tell both he and Mattie about it.  He remembered telling them about Samuel and the strangers who beat him before Samuel.  Jean-Luc noted the ring on Remy’s finger and took it from him.  Remy had been reluctant to part with it because of the memory associated with Samuel; it had been one of the good ones.  Insisting that the young man part with the ring, Remy gave it to Jean-Luc and he clearly examined it.

When he found Samuel’s name on the ring he became furious and stormed out of the kitchen that they were talking in and slammed doors all over the house.  Jean-Luc never did that and it worried Remy.  “Don’ y’ fret none, chile.  Y poppa gonna make sure what need to be done, be done.”

Remy didn’t understand what Tante Mattie meant at the time, but looking back on it, Jan-Luc would never have allowed Samuel to live after learning what he had done. 

Then Remy stumbled upon the moment that he felt better and remembered Tante Mattie incanting something softly in his ear and the smell of strong incense in the air.  Once he leaned away from her embrace he knew he couldn’t remember anything.  That had been the moment all of his nightmarish summer nights had been swept away.

He remembered Jean-Luc being very angry for the next few days and not being able to figure out why.  With the missing pieces of the puzzle in place, it made so much more sense, but it was odd to remember being unaware of something that monumental.

The only thing Remy really wanted to do at that moment was call Tante Mattie and ask her about this—partially to make sure he wasn’t just going crazy and that these things had happened to him, and partially to find out why she did that for him.  The phone was answered by a familiar masculine voice.  “Aloh?”

“Poppa?”  Remy’s voice cracked on accident and he cursed the tears that started to fall down his face again.

“Remy, what’s a matter, boy?”

“Poppa, do you remember de name… Samuel Cunningham?”

“Remy… he was a member o’ de Thieves Guild,” he tried to explain away.

“What?!” Remy shouted enraged.  “How could he have been?”  He was so mad that he was afraid he would crush the phone in his hands.  “Poppa, he—do you remember me comin’ home one day, after I’d gone missin’?”

“Remy, are you rememberin’ dat?”

“Oui, Poppa.  I was hopin’ t’ be able to talk to Tante Mattie about it.”

“She won’ be happy to hear dat you rememberin’.”

“I can see why.”

“I’ll have her come over an’ give y’ a call back.  Remy… how much you remember?”

“Everythin’, Poppa.”

“Better yet, why don’ Mattie an’ I come up an’ see you dere in New York, hunh?”

“I don’ know, Poppa… I’d like t’ see you, but—“ I don’ wan’y’ t’ see me like dis.  I’m such a wreck an’ I know it’ll only get worse as I tink about all dis.  “I wish Henri were here,” he confessed.  He and his brother had gotten a lot closer for some reason after that day and Remy was only now putting the pieces together.  He never got a chance to thank his older brother for the kindness and protectiveness he showed Remy after that point in his life.  “I’d like to see you an’ Tante Mattie, Poppa.”

“I’ll let y’ know what time we be dere.”

“I jus’ got a question b’for y’ go, Poppa.”

“Oui, fils?”

Remy hesitated in asking this question.  “Did y’ kill ‘im?”

Jean-Luc was silent for a long moment over the phone.  “I answer dat one when I get dere to New York, fils.”  More tears leaked from his eyes as he felt the answer.  Yes, his father had killed him.  As Patriarch of the Thieves Guild, he would have had the power to do that, although not necessarily the authority since Thieves only killed Assassins, not their own members.

“D’accord, Poppa,” he mumbled and hung up the phone.  He hoped that they would get there soon.  He didn’t want to be alone right now.

He sat there on his bed for what seemed like hours, unable to stop reliving the nightmares in all the detail that he could recall, which was a surprising amount.  He didn’t know what to do with these new memories.  How was he supposed to react to them?  Was he supposed to cry and make a big deal of the things that happened to him in the past, or was he supposed to not think about this ever again?  He was leaning toward the latter, but even then, he figured that he wasn’t going to get out of it that easily.  The Professor and Angel would make sure of that.  He could just see the pity in their eyes.

            With that image firmly in his head, he felt determined to make them understand his feelings and the need to not be pitied for things he didn’t want to remember.  If he ignored the memories enough, maybe it wouldn’t be an issue… and he could go back to being the man he used to be.

           

            Remy finally emerged from his room after what could have been days of seclusion given the way his stomach was feeling.  He was very hungry.  Wandering down into the mansion kitchen, he raided the refrigerator and tried to stay out of peoples’ way.  He only saw Logan while he was down there and the man gave him a wide birth, not speaking to him, and Remy was pleased with that.  After getting something in his stomach, Remy felt more human and decided that he had better let the Professor know that his family was coming up to see him given recent events.

            Knocking on the Professor’s study door, he was welcomed in and offered a seat.  “Ain’ gon’ take dat long, Prof.  I just wanted to let y’ know dat my Tante Mattie an’ m’ père are on deir way up for a visit.  I hope dat’s okay.”

            “Of course it is, Remy.  I’m sure you have much to discuss with them.”  He was frowning as he gave permission, but he didn’t know the details of Remy’s new memories, so he was trying not to put the blame of what happened to Remy on his caretakers.  Having experienced physical abuse as a teenager himself, he was unable to divorce himself from the reproach so easily.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes for future

Samuel eventually betrays Remy’s trust, which he works up over the summer and Remy eventually runs back to his family across the state.  Jean-Luc is very mad and Tant Mattie is the one to block Remy’s memories for him, but was only able to do so for ten years.

 

“Sir Pimp-a-lot with the instant feather-bed!”  (ie. Warren J)