Disclaimer: Both the Beast and Gambit are property of Marvel comics; I am just having a great deal of fun with them. This story is about a male/male relationship, and will wander into NC17 territory from time to time, so if this isn’t to your liking, please read no further. Note: A < > will indicate a foreign language. This little epic is dedicated to my dear Shala, lover of Henry J. McCoy. PhD. Also, bouquets of sweet peas to Raietta, Kerosene, Peggy, Lee and Makes Rain Woman. You guys, as always, are wonderful.
Lost
Boys
By Rebop
CHAPTER FIVE:
Hank gazed up at the sky, small patches of rich turquoise visible now
and then amid the ever-shifting green of the forest canopy. Here and there he
saw traces of white puffy cumulus clouds, arranging themselves in interesting
shapes. Hank smiled at the scene, smiled at himself. He felt like a glowing,
golden Bodhisattva, at one with the whole world. It was certainly a stark
contrast to the misery he had been experiencing only a short time ago. Hank
couldn’t help but think of that oft quoted line from “Forest Gump,” that life
was a box of chocolates, and you never knew what you were going to get. Right
now Hank thought he had scored a piece of the richest, sweetest candy, the one
with the caramel center.
They had made a cozy little camp at the river’s edge. A soft breeze
blew, and a fire burned low, slowly roasting some of the catfish that Remy had
expertly gutted and cleaned. They both had feasted royally on fresh fish,
having well, worked up quite an appetite.
Henry gave a sigh of utter satisfaction, which caused Remy to cuddle
closer. They had both curled up for a nap after eating. Hank looked at his
lover in happy amazement. He had really never expected this, and was truly
grateful.
Remy was fast asleep, head resting on Hank’s blue shoulder. He slept
like a trusting child, long legs wrapped around Henry’s heavily muscled ones, a
pale hand clutched in Hank’s pelt. Regrettably, Gambit was fully clothed again,
not wanting to expose that ivory skin to the rigors of the elements. Hank
grinned, looking forward to removing that clothing many more times.
Careful not to awaken his lover, Henry rubbed a small circle between
sharp shoulder blades, gazed some more at that beautiful, sleeping face. The
innocence he once saw in Remy was there, as well as peace and contentment. More
than anything, Hank wanted to keep that expression on his lover’s handsome
face.
Henry gazed skyward once more, and found himself murmuring a few lines
from one of his favorite poems. It fit his mood perfectly.
“ Smile O voluptuous cool-breath’d earth! Earth of the slumbering and
liquid trees! Earth of departed sunset-earth of the mountains misty-topt! Earth
of the vitreous pour of the full just tinged with blue! Earth of shine and dark
mottling the tide of the river! Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and
clearer for my sake! Far-swooping-”
“Elbowed Earth-” a sleepy, molasses drawl continued. “ Rich apple
blossomed Earth-”
Hank looked into garnet eyes, now crinkling and full of the devil.
“Smile, for your lover…. comes.” LeBeau put a very lascivious emphasis on the
last word, giving it a spin that the great poet surely never intended.
Hank, of course, broke up, although mildly scandalized. “Remy!” he
scolded. “While I love that you can also quote Whitman, how can you treat poor
Walt so shabbily?”
A naughty snicker. “Don’t t’ink Wally would have minded all dat much.
He had a sense of humor, and was kinda a randy old queen anyways. He did write
dat “limpid jets of love” line, cher.”
Henry returned Remy’s knowing smirk. “ Ah yes, I had forgotten about
that. Walter could be a bit dirty at
times, bless him.” Hank placed a soft kiss on Remy’s forehead. “So, my dear,
did you have a restful slumber?”
Remy smiled lazily. “ Yah.” A yawn. “ Could probably sleep some more.
Feelin’ like an old turtle, dozin’ in de sun. I notice we sorta abandoned de
whole raft idea.”
“Well, that certainly can wait until tomorrow. All of a sudden, I’m not
in that much of a hurry to get rescued.”
Gambit moved close and kissed a furry cheek. “ Hmm. Neither am I. What
a nice coincidence.”
The young Cajun sat up and stretched, arms thrown back. Henry quietly
admired his lover’s unconscious grace, so effortless and feline. Remy stood up
after a moment, rubbing the delicious dip in his lower back. Hank began to
wonder what it was going to be like witnessing little rituals like that every
day. Sheer bliss, most likely.
The kinks gone, LeBeau squatted bonelessly by the fire. He poked at the
fish with a twig.
“Y’ want some more to eat, Henri? Dese here catfish, dey look about
done.”
“Perhaps later. I am rather pleasantly sated at the moment, thanks to
your fine culinary skills.”
Remy snorted. “You easily impressed, cuz you been so hungry. Soon as we
get out of de jungle, I’m gonna really cook for y’, boy. Whip you up some of my
Tante Mattie’s special jambalaya and cornbread.”
Hank got up, bent over and lightly kissed the top of Remy’s auburn
head. “That sounds perfectly lovely. One of the many things I shall look forward
to sharing with you.”
Remy shyly glanced up at him through tangled hair, and they both shared
a very warm, affectionate glance. Hank experienced a surge of total happiness.
‘How on earth did you get so lucky, Henry McCoy?’, he privately mused.
Hank finally had to break the spell, as he had something rather urgent
to attend to. “My dear, if you will excuse me for a brief moment, I have to
answer a rather frantic call of Mother Nature.”
Remy nodded, stirring at the fire’s embers with his twig. That devil
look was back. “Which leads us to de question-does a PhD. shit in de woods?”
Hank cracked up. “Apparently so.” He ambled off into some heavy
underbrush, merrily chuckling all the while. Finding a fairly isolated area, he
pulled down his trunks. With a sigh, he rested a hand against a tree and began
a very long, soul satisfying piss.
As he did, he hummed a little Mozart and thought about Remy. He wanted
to hold his lover some more, talk some more, laugh with him some more, and kiss
him some more. Make love some more. With that thought, there was a hot surge in
his groin, despite the fact that his cock was currently preoccupied with other
matters.
Hank chuckled at himself, although secretly very pleased. It seemed
that he was going to finally, finally be allowed to express the wild and
sensual side of his nature. With his other lovers, Hank always felt the need to
hold back. His most serious relationship, with Trish Tilby, had been
frustrating at times, both mentally and physically. Remy was so different. The
thief was utterly shameless when it came to sex, as well as surprisingly
playful and gentle. Hank knew there wouldn’t be anything that he could do that
would shock Remy. Together, perhaps, they could satisfy each other’s secret
desires.
Some interesting and highly charged scenarios romping happily in his
mind, Hank finally finished his business and shook off. At that moment, a soft,
almost imperceptible sound reached his ears, and all thoughts of Remy suddenly
left his head.
Henry McCoy’s senses were not as acute as Wolverine’s, but they were
still far superior in comparison to average humans. And his hearing told him
that he and Remy were suddenly not the only people occupying this particular
corner of the rainforest.
Gambit was only a few feet away, and Henry calmly called out to him.
“Remy?”
“Yah Hank, I know.” The Cajun’s voice was tense and alert. “Birds
certainly got all quiet, didn’t dey?”
Hank blessed Remy’s Guild training and made a slight move to go join
his companion. He froze when another tiny noise sounded in his ears. Hank knew
then that he was surrounded.
Suddenly, a small group of people just melted out of the forest. They
circled Hank, bows drawn, arrows pointing directly at McCoy’s furry hide. They
were all men, short and muscular, completely naked. There was great fear in
their eyes, tremors in their limbs. They obviously had no idea what to make of
the big and furry Henry J. McCoy, PhD.
Hank took a deep silent breath. With his mutant ability and great
speed, he could easily defeat them. But a fight was the last thing he wanted.
These people were defending their home against a very alien looking trespasser.
“Hank,” Remy called out softly. “Y’ need me?”
“No Remy, I have it all under control.” The Indians started a bit,
pulling the bows even tauter. Hank gave a nervous swallow, hoping he could live
up to his claim. He began to address the people in the Ge dialect, infinitely
grateful that he had spent a little time studying native Brazilian languages.
<Hello, > he began quietly. < My friend and I mean you no
harm. If we have trespassed, forgive us. We are strangers in your land, and
have become lost. >
Hank was more than a little amused by their thunderstruck faces. They
had obviously assumed he wasn’t intelligent, his command of their language
proving otherwise. Unfortunately, not the first people to make this particular
error, nor the last.
The men all glanced at each other in confusion, and one stepped
tentatively forward. Like his companions, he was short, barely five feet, and
completely nude. His mahogany skin was decorated with stripes of black, and he
wore the bowl cut hairstyle popular among Amazon tribes. He had a blunt
featured face, like carved wood, and his narrow eyes shone with both bravado
and intelligence.
<Are you a spirit? > The man asked hesitantly.
Hank smiled in the friendliest fashion possible. < No. My friend and
I come from a far-off place. I am called Henry McCoy, and my friend is Remy
LeBeau. Who are you? >
<I am Chief Krekon, and we are the Quetzal People. > The man gave
Henry a long, measuring glance, and then he signaled to his men. They slowly
lowered their bows, and Hank sighed inwardly in relief, as no doubt those
arrows were tipped in poison. He also now knew that Krekon was obviously a man
of reason, having displayed far more trust than the people back home. There,
they generally shot at mutants first, asked questions later.
<I would be honored, Krekon, if you and your fellow warriors would
sit with us at our fire. > Krekon nodded slowly after a long moment. Hank
grinned wide, and began to lead the group back to camp.
“Remy, we have company.” Hank said as they all entered the clearing.
Gambit was seated on a log near the fire, trying to appear as non-threatening
as possible. The young Cajun took one look at Henry though and burst out in
loud laughter. His howls of merriment caused a bit consternation among the
Quetzal warriors.
“Remy!” Hank hissed. “What the hell are you doing? Don’t let these
people think you are insulting them!”
“Merde, Henry, je suis desole.” Remy wiped at his eyes, and pointed at
Hank’s trunks. “Its just dat you, umm, are at half mast dere, Dr. Livingston.”
Hank glanced downward, and was mortified to see that his trunks were
riding quite low. In all the excitement, he had forgotten to pull them up.
Henry gave them a quick yank, and with ruffled dignity, turned to the chief to
explain.
< I hope you don’t think that my friend was laughing at you or our
warriors. He was just amused by me. It is not our usual custom to be naked, and
he thought this was funny. Please do not be offended.>
<There is no insult, Henrymccoy,.” Krekon began in a respectful
tone. < It has been said that the ways of the spirit people are strange
ones. >
Hank wanted to dissuade the chief from this false notion, but he knew
it was going to be an uphill battle. And at the moment, It was much better to
play gracious host.
<I thank you for understanding our peculiar ways. > Hank shot
Remy a dirty look. < Would you and your brave warriors share some food with
us? >
Krekon nodded gravely, and the Indians all arranged themselves around
their small fire. Henry sat down next to Gambit, now thankfully straight faced
and sober as a judge. As the doctor handed round portions of roasted fish, the
Cajun gave him a wide smile.
“Well, trust you to know de local lingo, Henri. What’s de scoop?”
“This is Chief Krekon,” Hank indicated with a wave of his vast hand,
“and his warriors from the Quetzal tribe. For good or ill, they think we are
spirit people, due to our rather obvious mutations. I certainly hope I can
convince them otherwise.”
“I don’t t’ink dat’s really such a bad t’ing, cher,” Remy commented
quietly. “If it keeps dem from turning us into poison arrow pincushions, well,
so much de better.”
Hank frowned. “I really hate establishing a relationship based on a
falsehood.”
Remy shook his head, and acted if he was explaining something to a
slow, obstinate child. “ I understand where y’ comin’ from Henry, I really do.
But I don’t t’ink you will ever make dese folks understand de whys and
wherefores of mutant DNA.” Remy’s face was suddenly split by a truly wicked
grin. “ “Sides, Henry , what else could you be besides a god? One look at dat
big blue dick of yours, and dey all must have t’ought dat dey hit de spirit
world jackpot.”
Hank’s brows went up, and for a moment, he didn’t know whether to laugh
or turn the naughty Cajun over his knee. Since the latter conjured up some very
unwanted erotic imagery, all Hank ended up doing was fiercely blushing and
spluttering. In the meantime, Remy smiled at their guests in a very friendly
way, slowly standing up and moving towards his leather duster. All eyes were
suddenly glued to the young man.
“From de little I know about customs round here, I’m guessin’ dat a
gift to de head honcho would be a good t’ing.” Remy rummaged around in the
coat’s hidden pockets. “What do y’ t’ink-de compass or de flashlight? We can
still navigate by de stars and sun, and de flashlight, while mighty impressive,
will run out of juice real quick.”
“The compass is definitely a better choice.” Hank answered, impressed
with Remy’s wisdom. He turned to Krekon. <Great chief, both my friend and I
wish to give you a small gift. >
Remy presented the compass to Krekon with elaborate flourish, and the
chief took it from his hands with somber courtesy. His warriors crowded around,
peering at the peculiar object with enormous interest.
<I thank you, O Henrymccoy and Remylebeau. > Krekon said, turning
the object over and over in his brown fingers. Hank was beginning to like
Krekon very much. He was a born diplomat and unfailingly polite. It was also
quite obvious he didn’t have a clue as to what Remy had just handed him.
<It is called a compass, > Henry began in his best teacher’s
voice, < It will help you find your way. As you can see, no matter which way
you turn it, the small arrow in the middle will always point in the same
direction. >
Krekon fiddled with the compass a moment more, then understanding lit
his eyes. His wood carved face creased with a wide, rare smile. <Ah! A great
and wonderful gift, Henrymccoy. > He paused, struggling for a few seconds.
<But I must ask, O spirit, if you possess such magic, how did you and
Remylebeau become lost in the first place? >
A good question. A very, very good question. And Henry was rather
flummoxed as to how to answer.
<Errr...well, Krekon, it is a long story. Remy and I came to this
place to fight an enemy of ours. After the battle, we could not find the right
path home. >
<I see…> Krekon rubbed his lower lip thoughtfully. < Perhaps
your enemy put a curse on you? One that would cause you to be lost. You must
come to our village and speak to our wise one. I am sure Pila can help you lift
this curse and regain your power. >
Now Henry was really in a quandary. He didn’t want to mislead these
people any more; the spirit thing was bad enough. As he was debating on how to
proceed, Remy nudged him with a sharp elbow.
“What’s up, Henri? Y’ look all upset, cher.” Henry quickly explained
the situation, and the Cajun just chuckled, shaking his head.
“Henry, you are honest as de day is long. And I admire dat, I really
do. But in dis situation, let’s just go with the flow. Dere’s nothin’ wrong
with accepting’ a little hospitality. Plus, y’ don’t want to insult de chief,
who seems like a right nice fella. So, dey treat us like celebrities for a
little while? As long as we don’t take advantage of dem, where’s de harm?”
“Well…” Henry waffled.
“And Hank, I do recall a time when I heard a certain doctor say; “ Oh,
if only I had the opportunity to visit the Amazon rainforest! The things one
could discover, talking to the indigenous people, studying the medicinal
plants!” Well, Dr. McCoy, here’s y’ chance, all wrapped up in a pretty red
bow.”
Hank tried not to laugh at Remy’s imitation of him, which was dead on
accurate, flat Midwestern vowels and all. And he had to admit that his lover
was right. “Remy, you win. I have a feeling it won’t be the last argument I
lose, either.”
Remy grinned. “Yup.”
The doctor turned his attention to Krekon, who had been patiently
waiting for them to finish their exchange. <Chief, Remy and I have agreed to
accept your offer and speak to your wise one. We thank you for your kindness.
>
Krekon smiled again. <Very good, Henrymccoy! Our village is not very
far. We will go there now? >
<Yes, of course. > Hank concurred, rising to his feet.
As they were gathering up their few belongings and putting out the
fire, Remy kept grinning at Henry, red eyes twinkling with amusement. Hank
couldn’t resist smiling back, although he wasn’t sure what the joke was.
“Okay, I’ll be daring and bite. What’s so funny?”
“Oh, I wish I could have put money down on you going to de village. I
would have won big. You de Elephant’s Child, Henri.”
“The Elephant’s Child?” Hank was normally lightning fast on the uptake,
but this reference escaped him.
“Hank, I’m surprised-don’t y’ remember your Kipling?” Remy tsked. “In
his story about de Elephant’s Child, he was always asking questions, ‘cuz he
was full of-”
“ ‘Satiable curiosity.” Hank said, remembering the children’s tale. A
charming reference, although an odd one coming from Remy.
Gambit seemed to read his mind. “ Was my favorite story as a kid, had
Poppa read it to me over and over. Anyways cher, de Elephant’s Child is you to
a ‘t’.” Remy very lightly touched his shoulder. “One of de many t’ings dat
makes y’ so wonderful.”
Hank blushed and suddenly wanted to pull Remy in his arms and kiss him.
But Hank wasn’t too sure how the Quetzal people would react to this. Instead,
he brushed the Cajun’s face ever so lightly with his fingertips.
“I think there is a bit of Kipling in you as well, O My Best Beloved.”
Hank said tenderly. “ You are a Man of Infinite Resource and Sagacity.”
Remy winked. “Of course.”
The village turned out to be about two and half miles upstream. It
hugged a bend in the tributary, and was a loose circle of about fifteen huts.
Beyond the huts were some carefully maintained vegetable patches. However the
entire place seemed completely deserted, the only sound coming from a squawking
pet parrot, tied to a post.
While Hank and Remy exchanged quizzical glances, Krekon made his way to
the center of the village, near a smoldering cook fire. He loudly called out,
<My people, do not fear! These are
visiting spirits, and they honor us with their presence! They will do us no
harm! >
Very, very slowly the villagers shyly crept out of their hiding places,
wide-eyed at the sight of the two mutants. To appear less threatening, Hank
crouched down low, and Gambit quickly followed suit.
Small children immediately ringed them; the most curious and
apparently, the least intimidated. A tiny girl of about three couldn’t resist
the lure of Hank’s fur for long; she rushed up and petted him. Hank smiled at
her, and she, in turn, broke out in an enormous, happy grin. He tickled her
small, rounded tummy; she giggled and leapt into his arms for a hug.
<I am Ani! > She announced loudly, tickling Henry back.
<I am Hank! > The doctor chuckled.
After this exchange, all the tension left the villagers. Hank found
himself softly touched by wondering hands, murmurs of amazement reaching his
ears. He glanced at Remy, and saw that he was receiving similar treatment. The
Indians were especially interested in his auburn hair, black, smooth clothing,
and of course, his strange eyes. <They burn like fire! > Hank heard one
woman exclaim.
They both bore this with grace, as there was no hostility behind the
touching, only gentleness. And Gambit proved equally adept at tickling little children.
The examinations ceased when an old woman approached them. By the looks
she garnered from the other people, Hank knew this was a person who commanded
great respect. Tiny and wizened as an old walnut, her snow-white hair was
decorated with blue and green quetzal feathers. Bright eyes gazed out of a
thousand wrinkles, and she rewarded Hank with a wide, toothless grin. Then she
leaned forward, cupped Hank’s chin, and blew warm air into his face.
Knowing this to be a customary greeting among Amazon native people,
Hank returned the gesture. The old woman chuckled like a creaky hinge.
<Greetings, O spirits! Your coming was foretold to me, whispered in
a vision. I am Pila, shaman of this village. >
<I am so glad to meet you, Pila. I am called Henry McCoy, and this
is my friend, Remy LeBeau. > Still holding Ani, Hank rose to his feet.
The tiny shaman took Hank’s hand, her gnarled fingers dwarfed by his
enormous digits. <I have much to talk to you about, Henrymccoy, and much to
learn from you. >
<I am looking forward to it, Pila. > Hank answered happily. He
glanced at Remy, now holding an ecstatic young boy piggyback.
“Glad we came now, cher?” Remy asked with a smile.
“Indeed, my dear Acadian,” Hank said as Ani playfully pinched his nose.
“ It looks to be a most delightful and educational visit.” Hank sighed. “My
only regret is that I have nothing to take notes with.”
“Now Henri, didn’t y’ just call me a Man of Infinite Resource and
Sagacity?” Remy said, laughing his deep Cajun laugh. The young man dug into his
duster once more, tied around his waist. He then magically produced a small
waterproof note pad and a pen. “Ask, and you shall receive.”
“You incredible man!” Hank cried out. Not really thinking, Hank kissed
Gambit hard on the mouth. There was a slight gasp of surprise from the crowd,
then laughter. Face a bit hot, Hank looked around, and saw no anger or
hostility. Both Pila and Krekon were nodding sagely to one another.
<Yes, the ways of the spirit people are most mysterious. > Krekon
observed.
<So it is said. > Pila agreed.
“So, I guess we didn’t scandalize everyone.” Remy said with a crooked
grin. “Pays to be a spirit, I guess. Plus, dese people are more open-minded den
de usual crowd.”
“Too bad the rest of the world isn’t like this.” Hank commented.
<What do you think, Ani? > He playfully threw the little girl up in the
air, and after catching her, blew a loud raspberry on her stomach.
<Do it again! > The little girl squealed.
The Quetzal people turned out to be the most courteous of hosts. Both
hank and Remy were treated like visiting royalty. A large feast was hastily put
together, and the two mutants dined on breadfruit, roast turtle and armadillo.
(The latter tasting much better than Hank ever expected.) It was a friendly,
happy meal, and Hank did his best to be the life of the party. He amused
everyone with little jokes, songs and stories. And Gambit also was a hit. He
rapidly picked up a number of words in Ge, and also was very adept at sign
language. He demonstrated a few slight of hand tricks, pulling Brazil nuts out
of the ears of astonished children.
As the evening wore on, however, Hank found himself stifling a number
of yawns. Krekon took the matter into his hands, and directed his two very
exhausted guests to a small hut near the edge of the village. They were finally
left alone after much hugging and touching. Pila was the last to depart, with a
promise of a long talk in the morning.
Remy flopped down on a pile of woven grass mats. He pulled off a boot
with a groan, rubbed a foot.
“I gotta hand it to dese folks, dey sure know how to treat dere
company. And, y’know, armadillo would be really great with a little cayenne
pepper.”
“They have been utterly gracious. Thank you again for persuading me to
come.” Hank stretched his big blue length out next to his lover. “And I might
add, from my understanding of your native cuisine, a little cayenne pepper
improves just about everything.”
“You learnin’, cher, y’ learnin.” Remy finished with his boots, and
leaned over Hank, handsome face very close. “ Dere might be hope for y’ yet.”
“I’m a quick study.” Henry replied, and reached up to cup Remy’s chin
in both hands. He caught the young man’s mouth and kissed him slowly, deeply.
Remy sighed, and relaxed against Hank’s body, thief’s hands stroking Henry’s
hair. It was a sweet moment, quiet and intimate, and Henry cherished it with
all his heart.
He also wished he could respond with more passion, but he was frankly
exhausted. When they finally broke apart, Hank smiled up at his lover, drinking
in the sharp planes of his features, now rimmed in moonlight.
“It has been quite an amazing day, Remy LeBeau. Probably the best day
of my entire life. I thank you for that.”
Remy blinked rapidly, garnet eyes oddly bright in the shadowed hut. “Y’
welcome, Hank. De same goes for me. I just hope…” Hank could feel Remy’s body
tense up against his. “I just hope dat I don’t ever let y’ down. Or hurt you.”
“I believe in you Remy.” Hank answered simply. Remy swallowed, looked
away for a moment, and then lay down in the crook of Henry’s arm. Hank pulled
him close, rubbing his back, trying to ease the tremors out of Remy’s muscles.
After a long while it worked, and the Cajun’s breathing became peaceful and
even.
“ ‘Night, Henri. “ Remy said in a whisper. A pale hand reached out and
long fingers caressed Henry’s face.
“Good night my dear, “Hank said kissing Remy’s palm. “The sweetest of
dreams.”
After a few minutes, Remy was asleep, breath soft in Hank’s ear. And as
tired as he was, Hank lay awake for quite some time, thinking. He wondered
about what the future was going to hold for the both of them. What was the
reaction going to be to their relationship once they returned home? As
optimistic as he was, Henry knew in deep down it wasn’t going to be remotely
positive.
Hank drew Remy closer, and decided that it didn’t matter. A wild child
thief had stolen his heart, and he never wanted it back. He also knew that
despite all his insecurity and self-doubt, Remy LeBeau would indeed never let
him down. And perhaps someday soon, he would also hear the words, “I love you,
Hank.” from Remy’s lips. That would be the sweetest, most precious thing of
all.
Hank finally dozed off, smiling slightly, his lover in his arms.
End of Part 5