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"What're you up to, Wolverine?" Remy asked after a minute of hovering in Logan's peripheral vision.
Would have been easy to ignore him and continue flipping through the channels, but Logan's beer was almost empty and the mansion was just a little too quiet for his liking. He'd gotten used to the noise of living with other people, even when it was just Cyke barking orders he had no intention of listening to.
"Nothing much," Logan admitted. He glanced over at Remy. "Didn't go out with the others?"
Not that the question needed to be asked. Remy was dressed in well-worn, skin-tight jeans and a sweatshirt that cut off above the belly button. It wasn't the sort of gear Remy usually wore in public, not on a Saturday night anyway, but Remy's sense of fashion had always been a bit eyebrow-raising.
Logan was more of a flannel shirt and bootcut Levi's kind of guy, every day of the week.
Practical. Predictable. Just like Logan liked it.
"Team-building exercises ain't exactly what Gambit had in mind tonight," Remy replied with a smirk.
Logan snorted. "And just what exactly did you have in mind?" He took a deep swig of beer.
"Thought maybe we could play a lil' pool, make it interesting. Ain't worth playing without stakes, non?"
Logan grinned around the mouth of his beer bottle. "You that eager to lose your money, Cajun?"
"Wasn't planning on losing anything. Not unless you ask me nicely," Remy added, voice like syrup.
"I ain't in the mood to be hustled," Logan warned, turning off the TV before pressing up off the couch. Remy gave him a who me look that didn't have a drop of innocence in it, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips. He stepped back as Logan brushed past then followed him down the hall and into the rec room.
"So these stakes I was mentioning… you got any ideas you wanna share with the class?"
"How about if you win, I give you skating lessons?"
Remy made a faint sound of protest. He shook his head slightly. "Gambit ain't really made for winter sports, mon ami. Thought I made that plenty clear already."
Logan picked up his favourite pool cue and started chalking it. "You got any better ideas?"
"Of course. Loser treats winner to a date," Remy said decisively, his red-black eyes fixed on Logan's hands in a way that didn't quite feel as polite as it looked. "Unless Gambit ain't pretty enough for you?"
Logan snorted as he set his cue to the side. "Got a real high opinion of yourself there, Gumbo."
"I'm prettier than Jean, you know."
Logan resisted the urge to snort again. "That ain't true but nice try." He started setting the balls in the rack, leaning down close to the green surface to meticulously ensure each was in its perfect place.
"You wound me, Wolverine," Remy replied. "Maybe Gambit is handsome enough for you instead?"
Logan finally looked up from the pool table, taking a glance at Remy's face in an attempt to gauge how much the Cajun was bullshitting him right then, but either Remy had learned to lie to him in the last five minutes or he wasn't actually spouting crap. As far as Logan could tell, Remy was dead serious.
"Fine," Logan said gruffly. "You still ain't hustling me. If I even get a sniff of you trying something…"
"Wouldn't dream of it," Remy assured him. He crossed a finger over his heart. "Scout's honour."
"As if they'd ever be fool enough to let you in."
"Heh. That's true. Not everyone has as low standards as the X-Men," Remy agreed, grinning.
Logan snorted again and changed the subject. "You wanna break, Cajun?" he asked then couldn't stop himself from adding, "or are you just gonna sit there looking pretty all night?"
"Age before beauty," Remy murmured demurely, tipping his head in Logan's direction, a lock of errant hair falling into his face. This is a bad fucking idea, Logan thought to himself, not for the first time.
Aware of Remy's eyes fixed on him, Logan grabbed his favourite pool cue again and got set up, leaning over the table. Remy whistled, low and aggravating. When Logan looked over to glare at him, Remy already had his hands up in surrender. Such a bad fucking idea, Logan thought again.
"Just admiring the view," Remy said. "Can't blame a man for enjoying what's right in front of him."
"You may have missed a few etiquette lessons there, Gumbo." Logan took his shot and broke, the balls spreading out in a satisfying pattern. He already had his eyes on stripes, determined to win.
"Probably," Remy admitted with a sharp laugh.
Logan smiled faintly before he could catch it, and Remy's eyes lit up at the first sign he'd caught his prey. Thankfully, after all these years, Logan knew every dirty little trick Remy had in his book, and nothing, so far, had come as a surprise. Remy usually saved his surprises for special occasions.
That Logan knew all too well.
"You gonna let me take my shot without commentary?"
"If you insist," Remy replied faintly. "Gambit will keep his naughty thoughts to himself."
Mid-shot, Logan snorted, and the cue tipped to the side, just a millimetre off. The ball circled the pocket but stayed out. Logan resisted the urge to pop his claws and tear the entire pool table to shreds. Instead, he stepped away from the edge, ignoring the look of delight on Remy's face.
"You used to be harder to rattle, mon ami."
Logan grumbled. "Yeah, well, things have changed, ain't they?" He sighed. He'd been hoping to avoid having this talk, but Remy clearly hadn't gotten the memo. "Listen, just 'cause we hooked up once…"
"Twice," Remy said.
"Once and a half," Logan conceded, earning an agreeable one-shoulder shrug from Remy. He'd been equally agreeable in bed, Logan remembered, which had come as a surprise, but with his clothes on, Logan could still predict Remy's every move. "Doesn't mean there's gonna be a repeat performance."
"Oui, oui, I remember. We gotta work together, blah blah blah, Rogue's feelings gonna be hurt, blah blah blah."
"Something like that," Logan agreed with a tight smile, "so drop it. You gonna take your shot or not?"
"Thought that's what I was doing," Remy replied sharply. "'Sides, Rogue's fine with all this. I asked her."
Logan groaned. "Why would you do a bone-headed thing like that?"
"Gambit's willing to do a lot of things when he's motivated. She's also happy to provide a reference on just how good I am at working with my exes. Realize I got proof in the other direction too but that's just a whole bunch of family crap you know you'd be marrying into. It's all right, Logan," Remy said gently.
"I ain't some blushing virgin, Cajun. I don't need any platitudes from the likes of you."
Remy, who was closer than Logan remembered him getting, leaned forward. When Logan didn't say anything else, Remy placed his arms over Logan's shoulders. Instinctively, Logan felt his hands slip around Remy's waist, snug over those slim hips. He was a bit pretty, Logan thought, a little too much.
"We can finish this if you really want," Remy said, moving his hip in just such a way that Logan couldn't resist squeezing it a bit, tips of his fingers dipping under the edge of Remy's jeans and touching bare skin. "But I didn't spend a week begging Jean to get the team out of the mansion for a game of pool."
"Jesus, Gumbo. Just how many people have you been flapping your lips at about this?"
"You think us hooking up was ever a secret?" Remy countered, eyebrows raised, and Logan just grumbled slightly, more for the principal of the thing than anything else. Remy's expression softened, and he added, clearly as a peace offering, "eh, maybe Petite doesn't know?"
"Based on the shit she'd been saying to me all week, I'm pretty damn sure she does."
"Then the hard part's done," Remy said with an easy grin. "Now we can move onto the fun stuff."
Remy jumped up on the pool table, drawing Logan closer with his legs. Those jeans were tight, Logan noticed, sliding his hands over Remy's denim-clad thighs. Left nothing to the imagination. Not that Logan needed to imagine anything. He'd seen every last centimetre of that lithe body for himself.
"Ah," Remy said fondly. "There it is."
Logan didn't know what the fuck that meant and didn't much care. Cyke would murder them both if he knew just what was likely to happen on this pool table, but there were still hours between now and then. The thought of spreading Remy out over the green billiard's cloth was worth any other bullshit.
Against his better judgement, Logan gave into the urge and kissed that smirking mouth. Remy met him eagerly, legs pulling Logan in even closer, hips doing that thing Logan had liked so much. Those skin-tight jeans did nothing to hide anything. It'd be so easy to pop a claw and get him out of them.
But if he did, he'd never be able to see Remy in them again and that would be a crying shame.
"How long did you pay Jeannie and the others to be gone for?" Logan asked, between kisses.
"'We got plenty of time," Remy assured him. "And I didn't pay her. 'Least not with my own money." Logan lifted an eyebrow, and Remy shook his head, laughing. "Relax, mon ami. Not yours either. I know better. Consider this a gift from Cyclops, even if he hasn't realized it yet. Team building, non?"
"Oh, yeah, Cyke's gonna be real understanding about that."
"I'm sure the man's got a romantic bone in his body. Somewhere. Probably. Way deep down."
Logan snorted. "Keep telling yourself that. You're gonna need an alibi, Cajun."
"That's where you come in," Remy agreed. He did that thing with his hips again, a slinky little shimmy that went straight to Logan's groin. Not that he needed any help getting it up with Remy painting such a pretty picture. But Logan didn't want to make this too easy. Remy had enough bad ideas already.
"There's still the matter of this game. Gotta finish what you started, Cajun. Maybe I want that date."
Remy's cheek lifted with a smile. "The way I remember it, you're the one who started it, cher."
"I ain't known for my stellar memory," Logan conceded, earning a throaty bark of laughter from Remy. That wasn't easy, and Logan felt proud of himself for managing it at all. But enough with the flirting, he decided, tugging Remy by the belt loops off the table. "For the record, I was still gonna win, Gumbo."
"Pssh. I was gonna let you. Have grand plans for our date. You might even get lucky at the end of it."
"You're gonna get lucky now if you get that ass in gear. Your room this time. I ain't doing the laundry again."
Remy grinned, gave Logan one last filthy kiss – the type that made Logan think beds were for other people – then tugged Logan out of the rec room by the shirt hem. If anyone asked about the unfinished game, Logan didn't know what he would tell them. Like Remy, Logan had taken his shot and he was pretty damn sure he'd already won.