Disclaimer: I'll make this short. All characters used in this story belong to Marvel, natch. And that being the case, I'm not making dime one off of it, natch. This story contains Adult Content--and lot's! If you are uncomfortable with same sex pairings (m/m) threesomes, or anything along those lines, read no further! You've been warned. GLAM Somebody said I love you He wasn't sure how long he'd flown through the blinding swirl of white, held aloft on a wave of magnetic energy, mindless of the cold around him trying to steal his body's warmth. It was dark when he was struck down, waves of pain and queasy disorientation destroying his concentration, dumping him in a boneless heap in the snow. *He* had been here not too long ago, leaving a greasy wave of disruption in his wake. It had never been this bad before, he had to have known....been expecting him. Of all the stupid....careless....He knew! Slowly, feeling wave after wave of dizziness wash over him, Joseph raised his head, trailing a sad fall of white hair slicked flat, now matted with ice, and saw the looming spires and turrets of the citadel rising forlornly in the near distance. He slipped into darkness for a brief terrifying moment, and when he struggled to raise himself again, he saw...or thought he perceived a cloaked figure approach him, floating over the ground (snow? it had been snowing) casting no shadow, drifting closer and closer with tortured slowness. "Can you walk?" A warm shadowy voice rasped his ear, a hand lightly rested on his shoulder. He'd blacked out again, and now the stranger was kneeling over him, hovering weightless, formless beneath layers of some heavy material. The feel and taste of it seemed familiar, a sharp coppery tang, the cool texture of ions bobbing together like tiny bubbles. Numbly, distantly, he felt hands on him.....he didn't like being touched, or, not as he recalled. He dashed the hand away, cursing his feebleness. The touch was persistent, as if he had no more shift than a reluctant child refusing to go to bed. A raging voice in the back of his mind was nagging him about dignity and pride, but it was the part he usually ignored, and did so now. He felt he knew this person somehow, or should....why did that voice sound so familiar? That dry insistent touch, so maddeningly gentle and solicitous, hands on his face, lifting his chin, thumbing back his eyelids. He felt small stabs of pain that mercifully were quick to fade, ice and wind had swollen his membranes, irritated sensitive corneas, and the realization grew that he was all but blind. In reality he saw nothing of the shapeless figure that had approached, it was only the reflex of his magnetic awareness that reached out in order to compensate his other dimmed senses. Blind. Helpless. Dependent on another....a warm body offering haven in the cold emptiness. He tried to snarl, and then scream, but the sounds just froze in his throat. A dry sob of frustration shook his weak frame. "Come on, don't be stupid....you'll die out here." In plain ignorance of his pleas, a pair of slender muscular arms wrapped around him. Grudgingly grateful, he let himself be helped to his feet. The next thing he remembered, he was coming to propped up against a hard metal surface, what felt like a warm damp cloth draped across his eyes. His senses were not long in awakening, bringing to him the low thrum of magnetic energy, warmth flooding him all over, tingling, he felt a surge of renewal ripple through his bones. The disorientation had gone, and with it, the realization of why, or how he came to be here. He was inside the citadel. And he was not alone. "Joseph?" The form had been close to him, almost embracing (?) him....he was no longer sure, now that the figure had moved around in front of him, and was crouched, an ambiguous cloth draped shadow on his brain. All he was sure of was that voice....that rough purr that could inflame him at once with twin spikes of hatred and desire. "I can't see...." he said, cautiously testing his voice, finding it no more than a little rusty. "How does the damage look?" He made as if to reach for the compress, only to have his hands pushed back to his sides. Why didn't he feel the anger? The rage, the betrayal? Could it be that he'd been sedated? He wouldn't put it past the man. "Some minor swelling, a scratch or two. Nothin' serious." and with that pronouncement, long gentle fingers removed the cloth. Behind eyelids puffed and swollen shut, raw skinned wind-burned, Joseph sensed the room dim around him. And as if in answer to his unspoken question, "I didn't wanna risk any light sensitivity, I left de room dark." Painfully Joseph was able to force his eyes open a crack, grateful for the dimness of the room. Once his sight adjusted, he found himself gazing into another pair of eyes, familiar red on black almond shaped, a spark of fear now dancing in their depths. "Had me worried f' a moment." He dropped back the hood of his cloak. And something seized Joseph's heart. What was that again? No certainly not fear.....guilt? Hatred? Upon seeing that face again, lips once insouciantly curled, now pale and set in a tired half frown. His hair was longer, matted with wet tangles, and with a crackle that must have cost him dearly, he ran stiff fingers through it, miraculously drying and untangling. All for the sake of vanity, eh Remy? You always were most in love with your own appearance. What was he wearing now? When Joseph had last seen Remy, it had been through a blurry haze, vision fogged with pain and blood, and he'd been shirtless, smudged with dirt and bruises. But now, draped about him, a cape way too large, covered everything from the neck down, except for a high black collar. The color seemed vaguely familiar, and then with a sudden slap of awareness it hit him. Purple. His pupils went pin-point, and with an inarticulate screech of rage, he lunged at Remy. "Sie Bastard! Ich kahn nicht ihm glauben!" Joseph bunched the heavy fabric in his fists pulling that face towards him....oh that handsome face, how he wished to smash it. "Solcher treachery....Durch alle rechte solten sie tot sein. Ich sollte sie hier und jetzt beenden."** he growled, noting with satisfaction how Remy flinched. "I don't sprechen sie deusche, Joe. En anglais....in...English." "You....how dare you....after everything else....how dare you....." He pulled harder at the material, staring through it, caressing its ions with his mind's cruel hand. "This." "What, Joseph. How dare I 'what'?" He demanded. "The enemy who tried to destroy me....you wear his colors." Joseph whispered roughly, tears running silently and unnoticed down his cheeks. His hands relaxed their grip somewhat, but only to move them up, with almost a lover's caress to take a hold of Remy's slender, corded neck. So delicate, if he put just that much more pressure on it....His thumbs massaged the base of his throat, felt him begin to struggle for air, pulse fluttering with unbridled panic. "This cape....was his....Are.....are you now.....my enemy?" "No Joseph, I'm not....now let me go." Remy said softly, his voice so gentle and trembling with fright it almost made Joseph forget his anger. With a shudder, he complied, and Remy sagged limply into a heap of purple cape, sleek hair hiding his face. For the first time ever, Joseph felt a flash of concern for him, but never did, never could show it. "Does this mean nothing to you?" Joseph grabbed the edge of the purple cape, and turned it aside to reveal (slight relief) a sheer black bodysuit. "These are the clothes of an evil evil man....by wearing these....you have damned yourself." Remy, lifted his head, and his face was without expression, a cold haunted mask, skin deathly pale. His eyes were slitted, blankly, studiously looked on nothing. He was much too tired to even glare if he wanted to. "It's just a cape, Joseph, it can't hurt you. I only needed it to keep me....us....warm." "Us? Is there somebody else here with you?" Joseph hissed, anger turning to suspicion. His fingers curled menacingly in the deep purple fold of cape. "Yeah, fathead....you!" Remy slapped his hand away irritably. "You saved me? That was not....necessary." "Attempt ta be macho duly noted." Remy said wryly. He closed his eyes for a moment, giving in to exhaustion, and sank deeper into the folds of the cape. "An' completely wasted on me. Ya know, comin' here was stupid. You don' know what he coulda had waitin' out dere....coulda been somethin' a whole lot worse. Coulda been killed." "It was a risk I had to take." "You don't believe dat." Joseph slid to the floor in a mopey puddle, legs curled up with unconscious cat-like grace. Face lowered, and hidden behind a curtain of wet tangled hair. "Stop telling me what I believe....stop trying to tell me who I am.....what I want.....what I'm feeling. Just stop." "Joe?" Joseph picked up the trailing edge of the purple cape, held it in his hands like a newborn child, or the sad remains of some dearly departed. And even as Remy sat huddled near him, still and respectfully silent, the young mutant--at one time thought to be man-kind's greatest threat, but now little more than a confused shy and awkward boy--was reverently stroking the dark material. "Dieu. For somt'in ya hate so damn much, y'seem ta be admirin' it an awful lot." "It brings back so many memories.....painful ones." . "What you're seein' is just a memory of a memory....somebody else's. You gotta let it go." Stepping out of character, dramatically, Remy rested his hand on Joseph's arm. "Dese memries aint you." Joseph shook his head slowly, face still down-turned, eyes lowered. "But the pain is so real.....how can they be anything other?" "Dis self-pity aint like you, mop-head...." Gambit said gently, absently stroking Joseph's arm. Then turning suddenly serious again. "Why'd you come here? Why couldn't you leave well enough alone?" There was no answer, Joseph had brought the edge of the cape to his lips, his eyes fallen shut. Unfazed, Remy questioned him again. "Why did you come here?" Joseph came back to himself with a start. "I.....I don't....I'm not really sure." "Don't try'n pull dat amnesia spiel on me again." "It's not a spiel!" Joseph snapped angrily, hands clenching reflexively, wringing the cape's stiff material. "You've never taken me seriously, not you, not anybody!" "I'm sorry, calm down...." "I will not--" Joseph made the mistake of looking him in the eyes, glaring hard, thinking his blue-gray was a match for Remy's burning coal embers....those deep deep liquid eyes, unblinking hypnotic, yielding, pulling him in. "cal......m...." "Down." Remy said softly fixing Joseph in the calm locus of his gaze. "Okay? You calm? Just nod...." Joseph did so slowly, his face rapt, almost worshipful. "You're drooling." Remy said solicitously, reaching up and swiping at Joseph's mouth with two fingers. "tch tch....look at you. What am I gonna do wit' you?" Suddenly, Joseph blinked, once then twice, then shook his head furiously. He gave an unintelligible snarl and lunged once again, this time missing by a good foot or two and landing on his face. He was up in an instant though, panting, red-faced. "Don't you....ever...EVER do that to me.....Do you understand?" "I was helping you calm down." Remy said calmly, resettling himself by Joseph's elbow, part of the cape draping him in a cool ferrous whisper. He put his hand on Joseph's forearm again, lightly stroking it. "I won't do it again.....I promise." With a petulant glower, Joseph sat up and jerked his arm back, turning to face away from Remy. "Get off of me." "Tell me again....why did you come here? I'm just askin' dis time....but I need you ta answer....I need ta hear it." "I came here for you." "Bullshit!" Remy erupted furiously, voice incredibly loud in the large empty space. "You wanted to hear it, so I'm telling you." "Why? Ta finish me off? Ta save me? Din' it occur to you I might be dead? An' even knowin' I'm not, din' it occur, dat t'ings might be better off everyone believin' I'm dead?" Joseph reacted as if slapped, face naked with shock. "Why?" "It's what everyone wants....it's no more'n I deserved." "You only think that in your *own* mind! Whatever happened to second chances, redemption? I cannot forgive you....it's not my place. Only you can forgive yourself....not by dying. There's been too much of death in this life....we both know it solves nothing." "You have no idea, so don't talk! Ya want me ta come out n say it? Fine, I'll say it....." "Don't--" "You insisted....but you nevah really believed....You are Joseph! Not Magneto....not Magnus...not Erik *fucking* Magnus Lehnsherr.....just stupid, whiny, long-haired l'il no 'count Joseph!" "Then so be it." Joseph whispered, without warning lashing out a hand, striking Remy open-palmed full in the face. "But don't ever call me stupid." Remy's eyes crossed and he rolled over onto his side, fingering the blood trickling from his nose. "You hit me." He said with something akin to amazement. "It hurt." "Good." Was all Joseph could say, folding his arms across his knees and resting his chin on them. There was a sniffle. Pathetic, thought Joseph, but changed his mind when he glanced over Remy's face and saw the pale glazed look of shock, his eyes large and still hypnotic. "Why don't you just kill me?" "For all that you've done, I still don't believe you should die. Despite what you've bullied yourself into accepting, or believing all these years, you are not an evil man. You think you're a monster, Remy LeBeau....you want to believe that, because only a monster....or an evil person, could be responsible for these....crimes. You think that the only way to pay for the blood on your hands is by washing it clean with your own. To die like the fiend you think you are. But you're as much a victim of this as I am. I came to try and set things right. To heal the damage that's been caused...Or at least attempt to do so." Remy's eyes were squeezed shut, knuckles pressed to his lips. "Aren't you even listening to me? Remy?" Joseph scrambled over to him, checked his pulse with fingers nervous with guilt. Unconscious. But he couldn't have hit him that hard.... "Damn." Joseph bent forward over the fallen man, and with surprising gentleness, lifted him supporting his knees with one arm, cradling him close with the other. He whispered something in Remy's sleeping ear, voice dull and mechanical. "If it means anything at all, I'm sorry." and carried Remy's limp form down a dim corridor, leaving small puddles in his wake. Remy seemed small in the huge bed, lost amidst the drifts of stark starched white, so crisp it verged on silver. He was out like a light, asleep or unconscious and therefor Joseph had been able to wipe the blood from his nose, and then undress him without losing any teeth. He averted his eyes until he'd drawn the covers up to Remy's chin, but it had less to do with his own shyness, than it had to do with the other's modesty. Nude beneath the weight of blankets though, the sharpness of his contours still told through the drapes and folds he now wore. Here the jut of a knee, and here the plane of pelvis....Respectfully, Joseph looked away blushing. His own clothes still being thoroughly soaked, and near frozen, he saw no other option than to remove the wringing articles, and leave them in a careless pile in the corner. He'd found something dry to wear, but delayed the moment, standing nude in the middle of the floor, lost. Trying not to think about it--he held in his hands a white silk robe, trimmed in blue, and matching white silk pants that would just fit him--trying not to think about whose clothes they were, Joseph dressed himself. He disregarded the warm whisper of soft fabric across his skin, like some careless and inexperienced lover's caress. Carefully he slicked the excess water from his long silver hair, and smoothed it back over his shoulders. He hated the regalness he felt, and the calm self-possession in assuming this--guise. He was grateful for the absence of a mirror, for he would have smashed it and used the broken shards to blot out those hatefully familiar features, shear away that silver hair, silence the voice of insanity now constantly fluttering at the back of his skull. No....Mustn't go there. Mustn't dwell on it. You're vulnerable here, and you're not alone. With the slow heavy grace of a snow leopard, Joseph turned and crept back to the bed, this.....somebody else's bed, and not his own. He had to keep reminding himself of this, though the familiar yield was so welcome beneath his testing knee. And he found himself wondering about the old man who usually occupied these sheets, if he slept alone, if not then whom he slept with. Was it a woman or a man? Feeling suddenly exhausted, heedless of Remy's presence, Joseph sank into the deep down comforter. Letting go of consciousness, without knowing, his hand came to rest on Remy's calf, just below the knee. Rested like it belonged there, sure possessive, warm. In his sleep, Remy let out a raspy breath, a ragged sigh of acceptance. He woke sometime during the night to find himself draped over some strangers--no, not some stranger, but Remy's--legs, arms wrapped around them just so, head rested against the sharpness of his hip, the hardness of bone, muscle, or....something else hot, firm beneath his hand. He knew that shape with guilty clarity. He felt his breath quicken, desire stirring in his loins. Remy moved beneath him, waking gently, and calling over to him in a deep velvet whisper. "Whatta ya doin' curled up down dere?" "I apologize, I must've fallen asleep." With slow caution, Joseph sat up, rocking back with legs folded beneath him. "Come up here...." Remy said with total insistance, pulling the covers aside to make room. "Oh god....." Joseph whispered to himself, as his member stood erect. "It's okay, c'mere." He sat up and reached for Joseph. "No one's gonna know. It's safe." Warily, Joseph crept over to Remy, hands fidgeting nervously, not knowing where to be. Remy took the initiative, pulling Joseph to him, lying down beneath him and opening his embrace. He sank between Remy's spraddled legs, shuddering, draping himself carefully atop the slender form, trying to take most of the weight in his arms, and knees. Could Remy tell the look on his face? Was that why his own expression read fear, wanting, guilt? His hands whispered burning caresses up and down Joseph's body, his sides, back.....fingers burning cool lashes of electricity under the draw-string waist of Joseph's pajama bottoms, and down the supple curve of his ass. How many times had he secretly nurtured this desire, this notion? How many times had he nursed an erection in the privacy of his room, afraid to touch himself lest his mind conjure the forbidden source of this affliction? It was bad enough that Rogue was tearing herself to pieces between him and Remy, so many interwoven threads of jealousy, desire and betrayal, now become tangled. No party was untouched by it. Bad enough having that, no one could ever be allowed to know the full extent of it. The ramifications were far too great. Remy's hand continued its movement almost of its own volition, the gentle caress turning deliberate, purposeful, a question, an invitation. Joseph pushed against him, feeling that naked hardness and heat through his silk. Remy's mouth fell open, and he moaned softly, eyes closed. So they made love like this, slowly, tentatively at first, rocking together, kissing with quick, wet, guilty pecks. A brush of wet lips across feverish skin. Hands groping with nervous desperation. At some point it began building, and there was no bothering to hold back. Remy slid Joseph's pants down around his hips, that burning whisper of a caress finding his hard swollen sex, and guiding it to him. In the complicitous silence Joseph gasped, then cried out. He was inside of Remy, pushing in and out, then too soon he bucked hard and came screaming. It took only a brush against sweat slicked flesh, before Remy followed writhing, hot seed spurting across Joseph's belly. There were no regrets, and sleep came quickly. Joseph spooned against Remy, lips open wetly against his throat in a still quiet kiss. So they slept through the night, tangled inseparably. <> Joseph's face was a well of confusion, his cat-gray eyes wide and dark, mouth working silently. He'd awakened suddenly with the dawn, and felt a great pulling, as if something were being torn from his being. He could not explain it, nor could he escape it. A part of him was running loose somewhere, outside of his control. Remy slept on, oblivious, and shivering faintly. The covers had slipped from him part-way, leaving him bared almost to the groin. Swallowing, and making up his resolve, Joseph crept over him, and pulled the covers back up, cursing softly again when he felt the unmistakable wet spot (no, after minutes of staring it still had not gone). Their faces were a breath apart, and had it been anyone else, he would have allowed himself to close the gap, to press his kiss to the sleeping mouth. As it was, he closed his eyes, breath shuddering past his lips. He could feel him, that close, feel the currents feeding off his flesh. --What have I done? What have we done?-- "No. Not again." He reminded himself, beginning to draw back, and seeing for the first time that Remy's dark eyes were open slightly--enough to show that he was awake, had been for some time--and filled with knowing. With absolute unquestioning his mouth closed over Joseph's lips, drawing on him, kissing with firm but gentle insistence. Joseph pulled away gasping for air, lips wet and engorged with blood. Remy was breathing hard as well, but still unsurprised. Joseph continued to pull away, retreating to the very edge of the bed as Remy's eyes held him. "All dis time....." Remy said in a weak but steady voice. That was all that need be said. "How did it all get so complicated?" "Dese t'ings happen." Remy said all too calmly. "No. They don't happen to me....." but he trailed off then, realizing he wasn't sure just which 'me' he was referring to. Tears welled unbidden and tracked slowly down his cheeks. "Don't be afraid. We'll work dis out....Joseph?" At this point Joseph broke down, hugging his knees to his chest and weeping brokenly, helplessly, once again reminding Remy that he was far from the man most people thought he was. "It's okay." Remy moved forward across the bed, movements elaborately careful, pained. Every joint now ached from the cold, every breath strained through tired lungs, chest tight. But ignoring that for the moment, sheet wrapped around him, Remy pressed cautiously against Joseph's hunched back, folding himself around the quaking form when it became clear he wouldn't be summarily annihilated. There was a misery stricken moan, Joseph tried to pull away. "It was a mistake. A terrible mistake." "Hush, now....don't say dat. It's gonna be okay...." "We'll work it out shugah..." said a new voice from the door-way. "It's what we're best at. Isn't that right, Remy?" She approached the bed, surrounded by a soft corona of blue-white energy, slowly divesting her clothes, stripping away crimson and violet. Joseph flinched when her cool emerald gaze rested on him. Remy just held him closer, touch turned from soothing to something else, something closer to last night. Joseph closed his eyes, and let out a soft gasp. Remy nodded slowly, brushing wet strands of hair from Joseph's tear streaked face, mouth touching his neck softly. "Oui, chere. It's gonna work out fine." His lips found Joseph's lips drawing a slow kiss from him. Rogue trailed a hand down her own body, and met Remy's eyes. "It's gonna be perfect." She whispered. The lights dimmed, and in the darkness somebody said "I love you." End(?)