Apply as Required

by Mercedes

Remy picks up the lubricant and reads the sparse instructions once again while he's waiting for Bobby to stop laughing. "Apply as required." Very useful. Not that he's expecting diagrams or anything, but he needs *something* more than that to go on.

Bobby stops laughing, sighs and leans back against the door. Remy looks up at him. Their eyes meet. Bobby starts laughing again.

This isn't helping to put Remy at ease.

Okay then. Time to turn on the LeBeau Charm™ and put an end to this silliness. He stands up and walks towards Bobby, slowly and purposefully and only cursing quietly when his knee hits the corner of the bed. At the sight of this, Bobby sinks to the ground helplessly in a fit of giggles, so Remy abandons the "smooth" thing and dives forward, taking Bobby's head in his hands and plunging his tongue into his mouth. Not an easy task, trying to subdue a man who's giggling like a hippie on his first trip, but the Cajun somehow manages it.

Their tongues brush against each other and Remy sinks further into it, shifting closer and moving his hands around to the back of Bobby's head, running his fingers through that ruffled brown hair. Bobby's hands are on his hips drawing him closer still and suddenly those pesky nerves kick in again. Remy pulls away quickly.

Bobby seems alarmed at that so Remy covers with banter. "Gon' tell me what's so damn funny now?" he asks, feeling the familiar smirk spread across his face again. Sometimes he's a lot more comfortable with this flirting business than he is with acting on it.

He gets a warm smile for his troubles. "You're really not joking? You haven't…with a guy before?"

Remy just nods, feeling the charming façade slip away again.

"Alright," says Bobby quietly. There's a moment of silence whilst Bobby gives his best "It's okay" smile.

Then he starts laughing again.

Remy moves away and stands up. "Look, I'm not in de mood for dis right now-"

"No no no no no." Bobby lunges at those long, slender legs to stop him from backing off any further, causing the thief to narrowly avoid hitting his head against the door. "Don't go, okay?"

He moves his hands up to Remy's hips and pulls him down slowly, until he's kneeling on the floor straddling Bobby once again. "I'm not laughing at you. I swear."

"Coulda fooled me," Remy mutters, resolutely looking down at the floor with a petulant expression on his face.

"Rem." The Cajun looks up and is met by a kiss on the lips. "I. Am. Not. Laughing. At. You." More smooching follows.

"Got it," Remy murmurs between kisses. "So what *are* ya laughing at, den?"

"Me." Bobby doesn't stop kissing, working his way down to the neck. Remy tilts his head back up to talk.

"You?"

Bobby nods. "Yeah. Thinking you were gonna be all suave and expert gay-sex guy and 'this is how it's done'. Getting drunk 'cause I knew we were gonna do this. Being nervous. Etcetera."

"Oh."

"Mmm." All of that nervousness has apparently evaporated by now, though. Bobby goes to work on Remy's neck, sucking determinedly until he gets a groan out of the Cajun. The skin is red when he stops. Bobby smirks at how high school it is. He's given Gambit a hickey.

"So…you haven't…" What's being said here is slowly sinking in for Remy.

Bobby shakes his head. "Never."

"Oh," Remy says again, appearing considerably relieved. He smiles. Chuckles a little. Then he frowns. "It still ain't *dat* funny."

"I'm drunk," Bobby reminds him.

"Ah." That explains it. "But not *too* drunk ta-"

"Hell no!" Bobby exclaims. "Just drunk enough not to worry too much about fucking this up."

"Lucky you," Remy murmurs, going in for another kiss.

"Would you be more comfortable if we went up to the roof?" The kiss quickly degenerates into another gigglefest and Remy decides to wait it out this time.

"So…neither of us 'as done dis before, den," he says eventually.

Bobby looks thoughtful. "We'll figure it out," he says confidently.

Remy shrugs. "Dere can't be dat much to it."

"Right."

Both of them look at the floor for a moment.

"So…more kissing?" Bobby suggests.

"Sounds good."

Bobby leans forward and presses his lips against Remy's. The idea is to take his time and draw the kiss out as long as possible so he can figure out what the hell he's going to do when it ends, but somehow once they're kissing Bobby isn't able to hold onto that plan. His tongue slips between Remy's lips and quickly slips out again. This form of teasing continues until Remy takes the bait and pushes his own tongue into Bobby's mouth.

Their tongues spiral around each other and Bobby closes his lips around the thief's and sucks hard. His hands find his way to Remy's hips again and this time no one pulls away. His thumbs rub at the bottom of Remy's shirt, but Remy doesn't take the hint. It seems like he's finally realised that this part isn't all that different from what he's used to and he's far too busy exploring Bobby's back underneath his tee-shirt to notice the unspoken request.

Bobby breaks off the kiss. "Rem."

"Mmm?" The thief is busying his mouth with other matters, considering revenge for the hickey he knows he'll have to hide tomorrow.

"Can I take this off?"

"Mmm."

Bobby starts to unbutton the shirt, but forgets what he's supposed to be doing when all the blood rushes to his neck. He tilts his head to let Remy get closer whilst his hands slip inside the shirt. In other circumstances, the hair and the relative flatness might have jolted him back to reality, so he thanks his lucky stars that the alcohol and the bloodrush prevent this from happening and continues peeling the shirt off.

Seconds later, the shirt's a non-issue and Bobby's main concern is taking advantage of this without detaching Remy's mouth from his neck. As he moves his hands up the well developed torso, tracing the lines of muscle with his fingers, he tilts his neck as much as possible and stretches his tongue until it makes contact with Remy's left nipple. The Cajun curses softly and moves his mouth around to the top of Bobby's shoulder, allowing his partner better access to his chest.

Remy's own fingers are lingering at the bottom of Bobby's spine and beginning to think about travelling southwards when Bobby's tongue suddenly turns ice cold, sending a shudder of pleasure through Remy's body. Cold lips press against his chest, then disappear for a moment whilst Bobby takes his own shirt off.

At around this point, it suddenly occurs to Remy to wonder who's running the show here. Sweet, naïve Bobby who's drunk on cheap whiskey and supposedly hasn't done this before. Getting kinky with the ice powers. Remy's not so much bothered by it, but definitely not used to it. Decides to do something about it. The hand on Bobby's spine moves down, under his jeans and onto his ass. Moving the whole thing up a gear.

Bobby quivers a little, exhilarated beyond belief and a little shocked for a moment before he remembers that this is Gambit he's dealing with. World-class slut and international man of suavery. But if he lets the Cajun take charge now, the whole thing's finished. Bobby's scared that if he starts being passive about this then he'll never stop.

That hand does feel *really* good there, though.

So compromise. He shifts closer, lets the hand stay where it is but pulls Remy's other hand around to the waistband on his jeans. Showing him what happens next. It's not democratic and it's probably not considerate but that's the way it has to be right now. And Rem's not really resisting, just letting him know he's there and willing to do his part in this.

Bobby's hands move to the top of Remy's jeans. Just to let him know they're coming off soon. Then gets back to Rem's chest. Starts on the other nipple whilst the Cajun dips his head to suck on an earlobe. Bobby moans against his chest and starts sucking, biting and nibbling, gradually introducing the cold into it this time. He half expects Remy to flinch away and stomp off to go and sulk about Antarctica on the roof, but figures that's not gonna happen. As if the globe trotting thief and hero would be too traumatised by a walk in the snow to handle being teased with cold. What would happen every time he went to get ice cream?

But if you'd asked Bobby a week ago, that would have been what he expected. It's like all the preconceptions and stereotypes of Gambit are gone now. Starting over with a blank slate and no ideas about Antarctica or Rogue or anything else clouding his judgement. Just some warm, gorgeous guy near enough sitting on his lap, touching him and reacting to his touch. This is all Bobby needs right now.

He frowns slightly at his own internal philosophising. Christ, he's drunk.

But so long as Remy's going for the whole ice thing…and the bulge in his jeans tells Bobby he really is going for it…

His right hand moves up a little, rests against the ribcage. Remy stops licking the earlobe once again to yelp as something extremely cold and wet forms between Bobby's fingers and his flesh. A cold icecube moves across and down his torso, followed by Bobby's tongue licking up all that soothing coolness. Remy begins to realise how fucking warm he is. His skin feels like it's burning wherever Bobby hasn't touched him yet and his throat is making these little choking noises.

He wants to get back to Bobby's earlobe because he feels like he should be doing *something* but it's kinda hopeless at the moment with his muscles turning to slush in Bobby's arms.

His lips must be twitching because Bobby stops and comes up for another kiss, bypassing formalities and going straight for the tongue this time. Remy gets distracted and only wonders where the ice cube has gone seconds before he feels it at the top of his back. It's more or less melted now, and Bobby lets it slip down his spine and down his jeans. Rem shudders, half enjoying the sensation and half wondering what else he's going to feel down there tonight.

Speaking of which…

"We headin' t'wards de bed anytime soon, snowman?"

Oh yeah. Good idea. "Mmm," Bobby manages, reinitiating the broken kiss and slowly reaching for the door handle to help pull them both up. Once they're upright, it seems as good a time as any to get those jeans off. Remy just smiles as the denim drops down his legs. No underwear. Bobby curses. He should have thought of that. He unfastens his own jeans. Damn. He would have to be wearing his faded Wacky Races boxers. Today of all fucking days.

If Remy notices, he's generous enough not to say anything. The Cajun pulls him forward by the hips, still kissing whilst manoeuvring them closer to the bed, giving Bobby a chance to subtly slip out of the hated undergarment.

Just before they sit, Remy stops kissing and gives Bobby his serious we-need-to-discuss-something look. Doesn't say anything, just glances at the lubricant on the nightstand and raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

Bobby clears his throat. "Umm…did you want me to…?"

"No, I was just…I mean, one of de two of us has to…"

"Right. And…um…I don't mind…really." Bobby wonders if he's got any coins in his pockets. "Wanna toss for it?"

Remy considers the options. Obviously, *someone* has to. And if he's going to do this whole other men thing…

He kisses Bobby on the forehead, hands him the lubricant and sits back on the bed. Bobby figures this must be the famous LeBeau chivalry he's heard so much about. He straddles the toned but slender figure before him, leans forward and says quietly "You sure?" Gets a nod in response. Trying to hide his relief, Bobby lays them both down and picks up where he left off, kissing below the thief's pecs whilst grabbing onto the tube of lubricant like it's about to be snatched away from him.

Feels his own erection harden as Remy's fingers move down and start pinching his nipples. Then something akin to a full body erection as the Cajun releases a tiny surge of energy through his body. Hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he suddenly feels super charged, sucking hard at Remy's navel and holding onto his upper arm with the free hand. Remy writhes and groans beneath him, arching off the bed when Bobby's tongue slides a few inches lower.

Rem's cock is in sight now. Bobby isn't really able to take in any of the details like how big it is or anything else of relevance. His mind is having a hard enough time getting past the fact it's a cock. But his tongue has spent longer that necessary on the thief's stomach already and it would be obscene *not* to lick it with it being so close and all.

The second he does, all of his apprehension dissolves immediately. That's it. He's licked someone's cock and there is no way he's ever going back. That's it. It's all going to be easy from here on. Remy's muttering something in French and Bobby hasn't got a clue what it means but it *sounds* dirty as hell, and that's enough to urge him on and lick some more. All around the head and shaft and up to those tight balls, which remind Bobby how tight his own are just now. Time to move on. Blowjobs tomorrow morning. Fucking now.

He only glances briefly at the tube before he snaps it open. "Apply as required." What the fuck is that? Good job Bobby's watched enough porn to know what he's doing with it.

Tap on his side and Remy takes the hint to sit up, letting Bobby position him on his hands and knees and spreading his legs when a hand runs up his inner thigh. Remy might be unsure about what's coming, but at least he knows it's up to Bobby now. The thought that there isn't really any way for him to fuck this up anymore is strangely reassuring.

Same goes for the cold sensation of the lube around his hole. Relaxing and soothing, but still kind of awkward when Bobby's finger pushes in. Bobby's a little worried. He keeps applying lubricant on both of them until he's used about half a tube and he realises Rem really isn't going to get any looser, but surely there's no way his cock is supposed to fit in there.

He pushes a second finger in, tries to stretch the opening a little, then figures there's only one way to find out. But first he has to get that condom on.

Shit. Bobby wipes his hands on the bed and realises he should have done this *before* he started playing with lubricant. Fumbles around and curses when he realises he's putting it on the wrong way round. "Uh…Rem?"

"What's up cher?"

"Could I get a hand here?"

Hesitation for a moment before the thief realises what he's talking about and dashes over. Bobby figures Gambit can't be far from being the world champion for pulling on condoms in record time, so it all goes smoothly enough until Remy's hand is nearly all the way up that shaft and Bobby's groaning and half certain he's going to come there and then and ruin the whole thing.

He doesn't, thanks to the visual memory of the time he walked in on the Professor in the bathroom he has stored for such occasions. But it does take all of his willpower to remove Remy's hand from him and help him back into position, whilst he reaches for the lube once again. He's a little more economical with it this time, figuring he's probably not supposed to use one whole tube per fuck. Sure enough, the opening seems a little looser now and his fingers go in more easily.

Time to do it. Bobby moves over the taller man, tries to position himself as comfortably as possible over him and pushes in. There's a moment where the air leaves the room and Bobby feels like he's choking to breathe whilst Rem feels his legs go limp beneath him and only manages to stay in position because of the hands now gripping his hips like they're the only safe thing on a sinking ship. And okay, it hurts like hell, but at the same time it's a pretty fucking amazing kind of pain, with the promise of relief seconds away and the knowledge of the kind of pleasure it's bringing someone else.

Bobby takes a second to regain control. And begins to move. Slowly at first, but speeding up when Remy begins to really get into it and starts moaning softly underneath him. By then, he's not really in charge anymore and he's going as fast as his body tells him to. Fast.

Remy's still hurting a little, but not enough to really notice it. He's moving against Bobby now, again not really so much out of choice but necessity. His mind shifts a few inches further away from reality when Bobby's hand reaches down and grabs his cock, sending him into spasms and triggering his climax. Above him, Bobby feels an explosion of fire in his stomach and for a second he thinks something's seriously wrong before he realises it's just the best orgasm of his life.

They sink down onto the bed, gasping for air. It's a few minutes before it even occurs to them to say anything. Bobby notices he's in the wet patch and things begin to revert to normal from that point on.

"Next time you can…uh….drive," he tells Rem eventually.

"Next time I won't be lettin' you anywhere near de lube."

There's a moment of silence whilst the acknowledged 'next time' sinks in. Then Bobby realises it was supposed to be a joke and laughs obligingly.

All things considered, it could have been worse.

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