Title: Kisses of Summer

Author: A_Valon ([email protected])

Website: no site

Rating: R

Pairing/main characters: Gambit/Julian Boudreaux

Series/Sequel: complete

Summary: Slash. Why Remy really had to leave New Orleans.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Marvel Comics, but the idea belongs to me. I'm not receiving any form of payment for this story. Please don't sue me. It would only be a waste of time, effort, and financial resources since I have no money.

Warning: Now for a word on content. This story contains some explicit descriptions of sexual contact between two males over the age of consent. If this subject offends you, or you are under the legal age in your area to view adult-oriented material, don't read any further. Then again, you wouldn't be here unless you were over the legal age.

Notes: This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction. I hope you enjoy it!

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Kisses of Summer

By A_Valon

 

Grey clouds hung overhead. The humidity was like a solid wall. A tall man walked along the riverbank. He paid no attention to the beautiful scenery around him. He didn't see the willows with their branches bent toward the ground, as if they prayed to the Earth. The young man didn't stop to look. He didn't have to. This bayou had been his home since he was 10 - the only real home he'd ever known. Despite the oppressive conditions, the man wore a brown leather duster that swayed to the rhythm of his steps. He was afraid of the cold, and the coat protected him from the growing chill in his heart.

He came to a pair of cast-iron gates crowned with fleur-de-lis finials, a homage to the French heritage of this part of Louisiana. A brass sign hung on the left-hand side. Etched into the metal, in a flowing script, were the words:

La Famille Boudreaux

He stopped and raised his head. Long auburn hair tumbled down his back. His eyes, obscured by a pair of expensive sunglasses, scanned the area. He waited for sounds of pursuit. He didn't want to be found here. This was the private cemetery of the ruling clan of the Assassin's Guild. He had been a member of the Thieves' Guild, their sworn enemies and bitter rivals for the favor of the External, Candra the Benefactress. They'd kill him on sight, and he knew it.

When he was satisfied that he was alone, he reached into one of the many pockets in his coat and took out a lock pick. He had another way to open the gate, but using his mutant power to charge the lock with kinetic energy and blow it off would destroy the gate, leaving evidence of his visit. He picked the lock and eased the left gate open. Within a fraction of a second, the gates were closed, the lock replaced, and the mutant thief was inside.

He walked past the burial plots, wrinkling his nose at the smell of rotted vegetation. "Assassin got no respect for de living," the man muttered. "Why should dey have any for de dead?" Grass and weeds had overgrown the graves, and made it difficult to decipher the names on the headstones. But he knew exactly where to go. He strode on until he came to a grave marked by a plain black stone. No flowers adorned the plot.

He stood in front of the grave and felt tears flood his eyes. He fought them back. "No poin' in cryin'," he whispered, and wiped them away. He reached under his jacket and brought out a single red rose. He laid it against the stone and knelt. Tears threatened again as he looked at the headstone. His first love was buried here, dead because of him. Tears spilled down his cheeks. The thief took a deep breath. "Oh, Julien," he sobbed.

***

It was a fine summer day. Remy LeBeau swam in his favorite swimming hole. He was 18, emerging from adolescence into young manhood. He stood a little more than 6 feet. He had a slender build. Long muscles flowed under his perfect skin like water. He was built for stealth rather than brute strength. Logical, since he was a thief.

Bored, he left the water and lay down on the bath sheet he'd placed on the shore. He put on his sunglasses and clasped his hands behind his head. He loved days like this, but his eyes did not. They were black with red irises and pupils - Great for night vision, and very photosensitive. He hated them most of the time. They were proof of his 'difference' and being different could be bad for your health. He'd been taught that lesson often enough.

"Well, look what crawled out of the muck!"

Remy started at the sound and jumped to his feet as a young man stepped from the foliage.

"Bon apres-midi to you, too, Julien Boudreaux," Remy replied as Julien walked up to him. Julien was shorter and heavier set with thick muscles that showed under his clothes. The older youth was blond and his blue eyes sparked with cruelty.

"What you doin' here, LeBeau?"

"It called swimmin', Remy t'ink. Ever hear of it?"

Julien snatched the glasses from Remy's face. The pain made Remy's knees buckle. "You apologize, boy, or you ain't gonna get you glasses back," Julien threatened, slowly squeezing the frames in one large fist.

"Okay, Okay! Remy sorry, Julien. Merde! You so touchy, Boudreaux," Remy said. He got back on his feet as the fog cleared from his brain.

"You ain't got no idea how touchy I can be," Julien replied. He put the glasses on Remy's face, and trailed his hand down Remy's hard-muscled chest. He continued over the washboard stomach, and stuck his finger in Remy's navel. Blood rushed into Remy's face as he realized he wasn't wearing anything. Here he was, buck naked in front of the son of his family's sworn enemy.

"Oh! So you embarrassed now, eh?" Julien teased, smirking. His voice dripped acid. "Y'ain't wearing no clothes, LeBeau. Guess this just prove you be gutter trash, no matter who take you in." He took his hand off Remy and stepped back, ogling the young thief. He whistled. "You certainly ain't lacking for equipment," he said.

Remy's hands flew instinctively to his crotch. "Stop dat!" he said.

"Why? Ain't no one here but us. 'Sides," Julien continued, "you ain't run away, so I guessin' you like my 'ttention." He walked up to Remy again, their faces almost touching. He crushed his mouth on Remy's.

Remy's breath caught in his throat. He felt himself harden as the kiss deepened. Julien explored Remy's mouth with his tongue, caressing his teeth. Remy returned the kiss and pulled Julien closer to him. He slid his hand into Julien's hair and caressed the back of his head.

They embraced for several seconds before Remy stepped back. He looked at Julien and drew one side of his mouth up into his characteristic half-smile. He could see Julien's erection through his blue jeans.

"Seems Remy ain't the only one enjoyin' the kiss, mon ami," he said.

To Remy's surprise, Julien wasn't embarrassed by his arousal. He sat down on the bath sheet and pulled the thief down next to him.

"Boy, when you gonna learn to stop running you mouth?" Julien asked. He kissed him again, strangling off Remy's answer. This time, Remy wasn't as passive. As they kissed, he pulled Julien's shirt out of his jeans. With one hand, he unbuttoned Julien's shirt. With the other, he undid the denims. He reached inside to touch Julien. "One advantage to bein' a thief," he said to himself, "Remy can do two things at once."

Julien raised his hips and pulled his jeans and briefs down to his knees. Remy stroked him expertly with long elegant fingers. Julien moaned into his mouth and broke the kiss. "Where you learn to do dat?" he asked, voice hoarse with desire.

Remy smiled. "Know how to do a lot of things, cher," he said. His red eyes blazed with passion. He pushed Julien down onto the towel. He kissed Boudreaux's forehead, eyes, and mouth. He traced his tongue down Julien's throat and gently sucked and nibbled on his Adam's apple. Remy suckled his nipples, making Julien squeal with pleasure. His tongue lapped at the well-developed muscles of his abdomen, and slid over to his right hip. He nipped and kissed the joint.

Julien was powerless to resist. He was rigid by now. His erection screamed for release. Remy stopped and sat back on his knees. Julien looked up at him, a question on his face. Remy smiled and turned around. He removed Julien's boots and socks, then took off the jeans and underwear in one fluid motion. Julien sat up and shrugged his shirt off. Now as naked as Remy, he caressed the thief's back and squeezed one cheek of his ass.

Remy returned to his ministrations. He glided his tongue down Julien's left inner thigh, then up the right side until he tasted golden pubic hair. Julien grunted.

"Tell Remy what you want, Julien," LeBeau said.

Julien whined. He was so aroused he could hardly think.

"I waitin'," Remy chimed.

Julien reached out and grabbed auburn hair with both hands. He pulled the other youth down to his erection. "Suck it, Remy," he said. It was a command. Remy extricated himself from Julien's grasp and sat up again. His eyes glinted with mischief. "Not unless you ask nice, cher," he said.

It pleased him to have Julien in such a state. Boudreaux had always bullied him. He constantly harped on the younger man's strange eyes and low birth. Occasionally, he backed up his words with his fists. Now that Julien was vulnerable, Remy wasn't going to let him off easily. He might never get the upper hand with Julien again.

Julien gulped and struggled to find his voice. "I ain't gonna ask you for nothin', LeBeau," he said, his voice childishly sullen despite his arousal.

Remy shrugged. "Dat fine den," he said and stood up. He walked over to his pile of clothes and got dressed. He looked back and saw Julien glowering at him.

"Dat it? You ain't gonna finish what you started?"

"Remy ain't gonna do anything 'less he shown proper respect, cher," the thief said. He turned and disappeared into the forest.

Julien was dumbfounded, his penis bobbed with need. He couldn't go home in that condition. His sister, Belladonna, would never let him live it down. He had to take care of it himself. He reached down and started stroking. He concentrated on the rhythmic movements, remembering the feel of Remy's hands on him, the sensations his talented tongue created on his sensitive flesh. Orgasm built inside him. He stiffened as he climaxed and shivered as he ejaculated over his hand.

He lay still for a little while then went to the pond and cleaned himself off. He dressed and went after LeBeau. He wasn't satisfied in spite of the release of his sexual tension. He had to talk to Remy. He traveled in the same direction he saw Remy take. He needed to find him before he reached home. Julien seriously doubted that Jean-Luc or any of the other thieves would appreciate his presence on their land.

"Took you long 'nough, Julien!" that oh-so-familiar voice called down from above. Julien looked up and saw Remy balanced on a thick branch, his legs stretched out in front of him.

"Jesu!" Julien yelped. "How you know I come after you?"

"Didn' know. Jus' had a hunch," Remy answered. His wicked smile made Julien wonder if he really was the >Le diable blanc<, the white devil, as some people claimed. "You want talk to Remy 'bout somethin'?" he asked, when Julien didn't say anything.

"Oui, but come down first. Can' keep lookin' up like dis."

Remy seemed to float down to the ground. He stood with his back against the tree and bent one leg so that the sole of his foot rested on the trunk. He lit a cigarette and looked at Julien. "What you want, boy?" he asked.

"We got to talk about what happened by de pond."

"What about it?" Remy asked. He inhaled deeply off the cigarette. Julien looked away. The sight of Remy's lips sucking hard on the butt made his penis stir again. He looked down at the ground. "I don' know how to say dis..."

"Spit it out," Remy prompted. Julien looked up. The other youth was smiling.

"I... I... uh..."

"Oui?"

" I... liked what you did back dere," he said, running the words together.

Remy was silent. The smile fell from his face. Julien felt his chest tighten. His heart surged into his throat. He was a fool! What if Remy laughed at him, or worse, what if he told anyone? His father, Marius, would be royally pissed if he found out Julien had fooled around with another boy, let alone a thief. He silently cursed himself.

"You did?" Remy finally asked.

"Yes," Julien said. He looked away again.

Remy reached out both arms to the young assassin. "Cher, viens ici."

Julien walked into Remy's embrace. He reached up and pushed the sunglasses back onto Remy's head. Red eyes met blue, searching their depths for sincerity. When he found it, Remy slipped a hand up to Julien's chin. He cupped it and tilted his head back. He covered Julien's mouth with his own. When the kiss was over, they looked at each other.

"Remy, he liked it too, Julien," he said. The words cascaded over Boudreaux like a summer shower. "Remy wanted to be along wit' you for long time."

It was Julien's turn to be silent. He had dreamed of this moment. He had always liked the thief and, as they grew older, those feelings turned to sexual desires. But he couldn't handle emotions. They were for the weak and assassins had to be strong. So, he lashed out at Remy. He wanted Remy to hate him, leave the bayou, and take those feelings with him. It didn't work. Whenever he wounded Remy, with words or blows, the pained look on the foundling's face broke his heart.

Now, he was finally in Remy's arms and there was only one thing Julien could say. "Je t'aime, Remy LeBeau."

Remy's mouth drew up at the corners and his eyes softened into a pale red color.

"Moi aussi, je t'aime, cher Julien," he replied, kissing him again.

Suddenly, Julien pushed back, separating them. Confusion clouded Remy's face. "What wrong?" he asked.

"You can' love me! You gonna marry Belladonna!" Julien shouted.

Remy looked down. His shoulders slumped. He bit his lower lip, released it, and spoke. "I greatly care for her," he said, looking up at Julien, "but she don' love Remy."

"What you mean?" Julien screamed.

"Keep you voice down, Julien!" Remy chastised him, then continued, "Me an' Belladonna, we gotta marry so dere be peace 'tween de Guilds. Comprends-tu?"

Julien looked unconvinced and suspicious. "So you don' love her?"

"Non, ain't dat," Remy answered. "Remy marry her and be a good husband, but," he hesitated, "it you dat Remy want."

"What we gonna do?" Julien asked.

"Don' rightly know. But Remy reckon he know what he wanna do," Remy said, the naughty glint returning to his eyes.

Julien smiled. Even though he knew he couldn't have Remy forever, he desperately wanted to be with him. He pulled LeBeau close and kissed that sensuous mouth. He ran his hands up Remy's back and tousled the mass of red hair. "You ain't gotta get married 'til de Fall, Remy," he said.

"Oui. So?"

Julien stroked the thief's jaw. "We got de rest of de summer," he said.

"Yeah, cher, but we gotta be discreet 'bout it," Remy said.

"Don' worry you pretty head 'bout it, LeBeau. You don' know ALL de secret place on dis bayou," he teased.

Remy laughed, a sound as rich as molasses. "Now DAT Remy believe," he laughed, "an' he can' wait for de grand tour."

And Julien was as good as his word.

****

It was dark when the warm rain brought Remy back to reality. He had stopped crying, but the grief remained. That summer was the best of his life. For the first time, Remy felt truly loved and treasured. Their love was a precious secret that gave the two young men a sense of purpose beyond the rules and mandates of the Guilds.

He stood up and stretched his legs. He flexed his knees to ease their stiffness. He took his sunglasses off and put them in his pocket. He started to walk, using his night vision to guide him through the mazelike cemetery. His thoughts drifted back to what had happened once that autumn came.

He had married Belladonna. Julien challenged him to a duel, claiming it was for the honor of the clans. When they met on the field that fateful morning, however, Remy knew the difference. Betrayal and hatred twisted Julien's face into a dark caricature. He wanted to kill Remy for leaving him and choosing honor over love. But it was Remy who dealt the mortal blow, for which he was excommunicated from the Thieves' Guild and exiled from his home.

He turned up his collar in a feeble and belated attempt to keep the rain from soaking his skin. He reached the gates and scaled them effortlessly, landing on the other side without a sound. Remy had done what he needed to do. He'd had to see Julien again, even if only in death, to show him that his feelings were true. He turned and looked back into the graveyard.

"Au revoir, Julien," he whispered. "J'ai t'aimé, mon amour."

Remy LeBeau walked away. He would never return to this place. Life was for living, not wasting on regrets. Julien, like that summer, belonged to the past. It was time for him to focus on the future.

 

END