Title: Chase for the Past
Author:
wook77
Fandom: X-Men Moviesverse (Origins:Wolverine compliant)
Pairing: Wolverine/Gambit
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1000 words even!
Summary: Gambit's gotten better at evading Wolverine through the years until curiosity gets the better of him. Wolverine just wants to know his past.
A/N: Written for
picfor1000's challenge, specifically, this prompt. Artwork referenced is Les Demoiselles d'Avignon. Beta'd by
djin7 and, of course, all mistakes are my own.
It's been years, long enough for Gambit to disappear.
Logan isn't happy to have to dig the sneaky bastard out; doesn't have the patience. Time seems to move differently in the States than it ever did in Japan. Gambit's got too much of a head start on him - but Gambit's the only connection he's got with his past. A past with a blank void that Gambit can help him fill.
What little he hears about Gambit (only that the man's a brilliant thief, it's damnably little) sends him running across the States, coast to coast.
It seems that Logan always barely misses him; catches a brief glimpse when he's lucky; barely a rumor when he's not.
It's fucking frustrating, but Logan's going to catch him - he's got plenty of time, after all.
After six months of chasing Logan catches a break. Gambit's going to hit MoMA to add to a private collector's Picasso collection. As he stakes out the building, going over every crevice and egress route, including the sewers and subway, he has a feeling that this is it.
Logan's gut is twitching on Tuesday night, several days after beginning his surveillance.
Since all he's got is his instinct (which hasn't steered him wrong yet despite his memory loss) he enters the museum, melting into the crowds the best he can. He's not there to appreciate the other paintings. It's the newly restored Les Demoiselles d'Avignon that he's most interested in. It's in a place of honor, ringed with stanchions and motion detectors along with video equipment trained on it and the surrounding crowd.
The crowds the thickest here but Logan doesn't care. Gambit's tall, taller than most, he will still stand out, despite his intentions.
"Beautiful painting, non?" Gambit's voice purrs behind him. "Pivotal to the Modern Art movement and any Picasso collection anywhere."
"We need to talk," Logan says, keeping his hands from fisting and his claws from popping.
"You been following me, homme. Why?"
"Like I said, homme, we need to talk." He's growling, now.
"We have nuttin' to talk about."
"I think we do." Logan turns, but Gambit's gone, like a ghost. He turns back, and Gambit's voice comes back. "Eyes on the painting and this conversation go a lot better for de bot' of us."
"I need to know what you know."
"Gambit know a lot about a lot. What you want, specific?"
"You left me on the island. You tell me what you know of me before then." It's taking most of his willpower not to respond to the breath on the back of his neck and the spicy scent that he's come to associate with Gambit. If he turns fast enough, he could catch the slick bastard with his claws but then where would he be with a dead Cajun hanging off his claws and the answers stuck behind his unseeing eyes?
"Oh dat. You wanna know about yo' past? Dat be why you chasin' me cross de country? T'ought maybe you want something else to do with Gambit." Logan feels Gambit stepping closer, can feel just how close when Gambit lines their bodies up chest to back. "You wanna hear 'bout how you press ole Remy against the wall and hold him there? Want to hear 'bout what we did after?"
"I want to know who I am."
"I don't know that part, Logan. I only know who you was 'round me." Gambit's hand slides around the front of his neck, brushing lightly down his throat. Then he pushes Logan's head slightly left so he can whisper against Logan's ear, "I only know what you wanted from me."
Logan's instantly hard as those lips tease his earlobe. Gambit's chuckle is all the answer he needs to know that he's obvious about it. Dammit! He's going to gut the bastard and find out about his past another way.
Before he can move, Gambit's tongue darts out and traces the shell of his ear. He shudders, eliciting another taunting chuckle. This man knows his body, of that Logan is certain.
"Fuck's sake, we're in the middle of a museum," he snarls as Gambit's mouth continues to play with him. "Get some damned manners."
"Everyone looking at the art, homme. 'Sides, no one cares 'bout two men here. Interesting that you don't have a problem with me touching you - just that others see."
Logan snarls again, and the people nearest them take a step away, some shooting him a startled look. Logan reaches behind him, but his hand is captured before he can grab anything.
"It's a beautiful painting, isn't it?" Gambit releases his hand after giving it a good squeeze.
"It's ridiculous looking," Logan mutters, trying to think of a way to end this torture other than using his claws.
"No appreciation for beauty. Too rough and hard, aren't you?"
"I like beauty just fine. When it's real. That doesn't look real."
"You like real? I'll give you real- if you catch me," Gambit says, lips still teasing at Logan's ear with every word.
Abruptly, every bit of Gambit – the press of lips and body - disappears from Logan's senses except for the spicy scent that lingers. Snarling, Logan turns and follows the scent as he rushes out of the museum and towards Sixth Avenue. He briefly loses the scent outside of a tobacco shop - then he hears Gambit's laugh – much like his taunting chuckle earlier, but more forceful. Peering in the direction it came from, he sees a tall figure with bright red hair meandering down the street far ahead of him.
Giving chase, Logan barrels through the crowd, trying to catch the bastard. He's so fucking close by the time that Gambit, hearing the outraged cries of the people Logan is barreling past, turns, winks and then takes off towards Central Park.
By the time Wolverine reaches the park, there's only an apple on a table sitting on top of a carved heart.
The scent is gone.
As always, I'd love to hear what you thought.
Author:
Fandom: X-Men Moviesverse (Origins:Wolverine compliant)
Pairing: Wolverine/Gambit
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1000 words even!
Summary: Gambit's gotten better at evading Wolverine through the years until curiosity gets the better of him. Wolverine just wants to know his past.
A/N: Written for
It's been years, long enough for Gambit to disappear.
Logan isn't happy to have to dig the sneaky bastard out; doesn't have the patience. Time seems to move differently in the States than it ever did in Japan. Gambit's got too much of a head start on him - but Gambit's the only connection he's got with his past. A past with a blank void that Gambit can help him fill.
What little he hears about Gambit (only that the man's a brilliant thief, it's damnably little) sends him running across the States, coast to coast.
It seems that Logan always barely misses him; catches a brief glimpse when he's lucky; barely a rumor when he's not.
It's fucking frustrating, but Logan's going to catch him - he's got plenty of time, after all.
After six months of chasing Logan catches a break. Gambit's going to hit MoMA to add to a private collector's Picasso collection. As he stakes out the building, going over every crevice and egress route, including the sewers and subway, he has a feeling that this is it.
Logan's gut is twitching on Tuesday night, several days after beginning his surveillance.
Since all he's got is his instinct (which hasn't steered him wrong yet despite his memory loss) he enters the museum, melting into the crowds the best he can. He's not there to appreciate the other paintings. It's the newly restored Les Demoiselles d'Avignon that he's most interested in. It's in a place of honor, ringed with stanchions and motion detectors along with video equipment trained on it and the surrounding crowd.
The crowds the thickest here but Logan doesn't care. Gambit's tall, taller than most, he will still stand out, despite his intentions.
"Beautiful painting, non?" Gambit's voice purrs behind him. "Pivotal to the Modern Art movement and any Picasso collection anywhere."
"We need to talk," Logan says, keeping his hands from fisting and his claws from popping.
"You been following me, homme. Why?"
"Like I said, homme, we need to talk." He's growling, now.
"We have nuttin' to talk about."
"I think we do." Logan turns, but Gambit's gone, like a ghost. He turns back, and Gambit's voice comes back. "Eyes on the painting and this conversation go a lot better for de bot' of us."
"I need to know what you know."
"Gambit know a lot about a lot. What you want, specific?"
"You left me on the island. You tell me what you know of me before then." It's taking most of his willpower not to respond to the breath on the back of his neck and the spicy scent that he's come to associate with Gambit. If he turns fast enough, he could catch the slick bastard with his claws but then where would he be with a dead Cajun hanging off his claws and the answers stuck behind his unseeing eyes?
"Oh dat. You wanna know about yo' past? Dat be why you chasin' me cross de country? T'ought maybe you want something else to do with Gambit." Logan feels Gambit stepping closer, can feel just how close when Gambit lines their bodies up chest to back. "You wanna hear 'bout how you press ole Remy against the wall and hold him there? Want to hear 'bout what we did after?"
"I want to know who I am."
"I don't know that part, Logan. I only know who you was 'round me." Gambit's hand slides around the front of his neck, brushing lightly down his throat. Then he pushes Logan's head slightly left so he can whisper against Logan's ear, "I only know what you wanted from me."
Logan's instantly hard as those lips tease his earlobe. Gambit's chuckle is all the answer he needs to know that he's obvious about it. Dammit! He's going to gut the bastard and find out about his past another way.
Before he can move, Gambit's tongue darts out and traces the shell of his ear. He shudders, eliciting another taunting chuckle. This man knows his body, of that Logan is certain.
"Fuck's sake, we're in the middle of a museum," he snarls as Gambit's mouth continues to play with him. "Get some damned manners."
"Everyone looking at the art, homme. 'Sides, no one cares 'bout two men here. Interesting that you don't have a problem with me touching you - just that others see."
Logan snarls again, and the people nearest them take a step away, some shooting him a startled look. Logan reaches behind him, but his hand is captured before he can grab anything.
"It's a beautiful painting, isn't it?" Gambit releases his hand after giving it a good squeeze.
"It's ridiculous looking," Logan mutters, trying to think of a way to end this torture other than using his claws.
"No appreciation for beauty. Too rough and hard, aren't you?"
"I like beauty just fine. When it's real. That doesn't look real."
"You like real? I'll give you real- if you catch me," Gambit says, lips still teasing at Logan's ear with every word.
Abruptly, every bit of Gambit – the press of lips and body - disappears from Logan's senses except for the spicy scent that lingers. Snarling, Logan turns and follows the scent as he rushes out of the museum and towards Sixth Avenue. He briefly loses the scent outside of a tobacco shop - then he hears Gambit's laugh – much like his taunting chuckle earlier, but more forceful. Peering in the direction it came from, he sees a tall figure with bright red hair meandering down the street far ahead of him.
Giving chase, Logan barrels through the crowd, trying to catch the bastard. He's so fucking close by the time that Gambit, hearing the outraged cries of the people Logan is barreling past, turns, winks and then takes off towards Central Park.
By the time Wolverine reaches the park, there's only an apple on a table sitting on top of a carved heart.
The scent is gone.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-19 05:12 am (UTC)yummy boys.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-20 03:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-19 05:41 am (UTC)Loved this
no subject
Date: 2010-01-20 03:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-19 03:25 pm (UTC)I love your Remy - he's such a tease XD
Also:
"Get some damned manners."
Wolverine saying this made me laugh. XDD
no subject
Date: 2010-01-20 03:43 am (UTC)Hee, that line really had me lolling as I wrote it so I'm glad that brought you laughter, too!
no subject
Date: 2010-01-19 04:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-20 03:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-19 05:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-20 03:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-19 07:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-20 03:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-19 08:10 pm (UTC)What a lovely idea to set their meeting at this unusual place. I have a special crush on finding "real" pieces of art or literature in a fic and this was great. Thank you for sharing!
And, umm, "Professor Logan" in the Museum of Modern Art... weeeeeeell, maybe he should try some impressionists first... XD
no subject
Date: 2010-01-20 03:46 am (UTC)I'm very glad that you enjoyed this, especially the artwork. That piece, coupled with the original assignment, inspired this work completely. I was trolling through the internets looking for something awesome when I came across that painting and the restoration process. I couldn't resist the image of Gambit stealing it.
I can just see his reaction to the Impressionists.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-20 04:09 am (UTC)Absolutely delicious, teasing and just perfect Remy.
One of the best written ones I've seen for a long time.
That's not to discount your Wolverine by any means as he was also utterly brilliant.
This whole piece was.
Mem'ing. :)
no subject
Date: 2010-01-21 12:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-21 12:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-23 11:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-12 02:21 am (UTC)