#justarogue

Rogue didn’t share his feelings often, not without a good reason, so when he did share, when he did open up, Remy was sure to listen. Of the two of them, Remy would never understand how people rejected Rogue. The man was hard working, he cared–possibly too much–for his friends, he was loyal, and if given the choice, at least in Remy’s opinion, he always made the right one. It had been easy to fall, to lose his heart, and even easier to stay married once they made that promise, drunk or not at the time. 

Remy reached out to run his hand down the length of Rogue’s arm until he laced their hands together across the table. “You–Cher,” he shook his head, the words sticking in his throat. “All dis cajun’s life, everybody he ever met told him he was no good, or too good. Tried lockin’ him up, or used him to get what dey want so he can take de blame and leave dem innocent. Dey said he was de devil, and after so long, Remy believed it…” Looking up at the ceiling, Remy filled his lungs and let the breath out slowly before fixing a soft, sad smile on Rogue’s face. “Got blood on my hands, mon coeur, blood and broken hearts, and thievery by my own choosin’. You de first person in Gambit’s whole life dat ever saw him underneath all dat shit, looked at him and saw dat maybe he could be capable of–” 

With a grimace, Remy dropped his gaze to their joined hands and let out a shaky breath. “–of good.” 

It took a moment, several moments to find the strength to raise his eyes again and when he did, he could feel the wetness gathering there. 

“You ain’t just somebody to accept, Marcus,” he said. “You somebody t’love, and as long as dis cajun’s breathin’, you gon’ have it.” 

1.

The first time Remy kissed Tony Stark, he still went by Gambit more often than not. The gala was formal, a fundraiser of some sort or other, and he was there dressed to the nines and scouting the place for a job. He needed security access that wouldn’t trip any alarms, and it was just a matter of finding the right face in the crowd. Tony had caught his eye from across the room, and, champagne in hand, he crossed the room, weaving in and out of the milling crowd to stand before him. 

“Bonjour Monsieur Stark,” he smiled, his teeth a perfectly straight white line, shining with confidence. “I must say it is an honor to meet you,” and without giving him a chance to speak, Remy had leaned in and gripped his shoulders, pressing a kiss to each of his cheeks in greeting. 

Of course, as his lips stole those kisses, his hand was stealing Stark’s wallet.

2. 

The second time Remy kissed Tony Stark, it was the same night, long after everyone had gone home. Not even the wait staff remained. Remy was dressed in his dark bodysuit, skin tight and draped in his long brown duster. His eyes glowed, magenta on black in the dark, catching the soft evening lights of the city coming through the windows like a cat. 

Tony was strolling through the place, double checking everything was the way it should be. He found Remy leaning against the doorframe, a cheshire smile curling over his lips and the computer chip he’d stolen safely in his breast pocket. 

“Who the hell are you?” 

Remy shoved off the wall and sauntered close, “Don’t you recognize me?” His left hand brushed down Tony’s arm as he brought their faces close and touched a kiss to each cheek again, slowly. “It ain’t often Gambit meet a fella with fashion sense as nice as him. Had to return something, hein?” 

He slipped Tony’s wallet back into his pocket and grinned, “Gambit left his callin’ card. Call him. We get a drink sometime.” 

And with that, he backed away and vanished out of a balcony and over the side of the railing. 

3. 

Mid battle. It was a close call. Gambit had been a little too confident, a little too cocky, but he was having fun, and who could say they survived a full on attack from Iron Man? One blast from Tony’s gauntlet singed Gambit’s duster, and the cajun laughed. Nothing got his adrenaline pumping so much as a close call. 

He took out his staff, snapped it out to full length and used it to propel himself up and over a charging Iron Man, pressing his lips to the top of the red helmet on his way over. 

“If you miss dis cajun, all you had to do was say so, cher!” 

4. 

Gambit had targeted him for long than a year, and amidst thefts, the times Remy had thwarted the heroics of the Avengers, he’d noticed something. Tony Stark was drunk, and he was almost always depressed. Gambit took to watching him even on days he wasn’t on a job. Just studying him like he would any mark until one day Remy couldn’t take it anymore. A man who had everything, a man who had the opportunity to be so widely accepted shouldn’t seem so...

...Lonely.

He waited until after dark, waited to see Tony on his balcony with glass in hand before he moved. Remy scaled the building and dropped down on the balcony near Tony and without a word, he walked right up to him, cradled his face in his hand and wrapped his arm around his waist as he kissed him deeply. 

5. 

The fifth and final time Remy kissed Tony Stark was out of nothing more than a sheer love of trouble. He was awful, and he was the first to admit it. Now, knowing Tony was married, and being married himself, Remy only kissed him to stir up a jealous hornet’s nest and watch as it all hit the fan. 

I could see you playing a very kickass Poison Ivy, ngel. Also, hey, poison kisses, trap them men. :D

-steals thongs and tosses them over the power line outside-