Hand Me Down Heart



There was a gentle hand on Hank's shoulder. He snapped awake. He lifted his massive head from where it lay amongst his papers. He blinked at the young man who was connected to the hand. "Remy? Are you alright?"

"Oui, Henri." Affection colored the words. "You the one who ain't all right, mon ami. And don' bother lyin' to Remy, y' know he's speakin' true."

A rueful smile spread across Hank's face. Trust Gambit to be the one to reach out across all the troubles in order to cheer him up. "All right, my friend, I admit that I am not performing at my optimal levels recently."

"Y' in mournin', Henri. But y' feelin' mighty guilty and that ain't right. We got to get y' out of this place before y' get sick. Come on, cher. Time t' watch the moon shining on the lake. It'll settle y'r soul some." Remy tugged on the doctor's arm, knowing that he'd never be able to shift Hank if the doctor didn't want to move. Hank let himself be led out to the backyard by his insistent Cajun guide.

What he saw as they neared their destination made his jaw drop. "This is a veritable feast!"

"Yup," Logan said lighting the last of the thick, white, pillar candles. "Me and the kid worked all day on it, so sit yer big, blue butt on a pillow and enjoy it."

Hank settled down on the soft grass.

"There are pillows f' a reason," Remy chided.

"I like the grass. Did you prepare all of this?"

"Oui. And Logan helped me get it just right."

Hank nibbled at a large petite-four and moaned in pleasure. The treats were just the right size for his fingers. The mug filled with sweet, spiced wine to accompany the main dish of roast beef was Hank's favorite -- the one that fit his finger. Potatoes and green beans nestled cozily with sweet treats and meat.

The conversation was free-ranging from philosophy to movies and Hank found his shoulders relaxing. "Why don't y' take off y'r jacket, Henri?" Remy asked during a lull in the discussion. Hank pulled off the lab coat and Remy folded it away with the basket that the dinner leftovers had been packed away in. They sipped beer, the spiced wine long since finished off.

Remy stroked through the long, blue fur of Hank's leg as they talked. "Merde, y're soft, Henri. Knew y' had soft hands. Didn't know about it bein' soft all over."

"Kitty once called me a teddy bear." Hank sighed. It had been a long time since anyone had looked beyond his fur to the man inside. He'd been nothing but a cuddly stuffed animal for years. Even Trish had only seen his mind. She'd rarely if ever kissed him. He enjoyed the petting he was receiving, but he wished it would lead to something more. He knew, however, that Remy had committed to Logan and pushed the fantasy away.

"Never had a teddy bear," Remy commented. "Less'n y' count the one Rogue gave me f' Christmas last year."

"Nope. That was a bad taste bear. Don't count."

"How come y' know that, cher?"

"Kid, it came with a ball gag and handcuffs. It ain't fer kids. That's why it ain't in yer room no more."

"T'ief." They all shared a laugh at that. "Y' let Remy brush out y'r fur, M. Bete?"

Hank stared for a moment at the brush in the Cajun's hand. It was the well-used wooden brush hank had had for years. He rarely used it anymore. He shrugged. That isn't necessary."

Remy pouted and Logan snorted. "Let the brat have his way or he'll drive us nuts," the Canadian counseled.

Hand found a smile on his lips. "As you wish, my dear Cajun."

"Merci," Remy said sweetly. He knelt behind the larger man and slowly, methodically combed out Hank's fur. The doctor found himself being distracted from the conversation by the feel of the brush and the gentle stroking of Remy's fingers down his spine. The long, dangerous fingers seemed to unerringly find his most sensitive spots. He saw Logan smirking at him.

"What is it, Logan?" Hank said in what he considered a surprisingly even voice.

"Brat's getting' to ya ain't he, Hank?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Logan snickered. "No shame in it, bub. Yer one of the few friends the boy's got, that we both got actually. I don't mind sharing."

Hank blinked, certain that the alcohol was affecting his mind. "I'm sure I misheard you. What did you just say?"

"I don't mind sharin'."

"Come on, Henri," Remy whispered into the doctor's ear, wrapping his arms around the thick shoulders. "Don't y' want me? T'ought you liked this po' boy."

Hank patted Remy's wrist. "I do like you, Remy," he soothed. "But I don't think. . ."

"Come on, Blue, live a little." Logan squeezed Hank's knee. "Think how nice it'd be to feel him wrapped around yer cock. Know it's been a while. Ya need this, boy."

Hank felt his cheeks darken as he flushed. "Logan I. . . I never considered. . ."

"You wanna feel him in y', cher?" Remy purred. "Or Remy mebbe? Fillin' y', makin' y' remember what it's like t' feel?"

Hank licked his lips. "This isn't the time or place for this."

"This is the perfect time and place. The rest of the crew is off relaxin'. Hell, even Chuck went to visit Moira. Just the three of us."

Hank's reserve faltered and a glimmer of the adventurer in him, the part that loved the fight and thrived on adrenaline, began to shine behind his eyes.

"Ain't no one here to tell us it ain't right. Ain't no one who's gonna be disturbed if ya need to howl to the moon when ya finally find some release."

Remy nuzzled at Hank's throat. "Sil t' plait?"

Hearing the intimate version of "please" was what finally undid the last of Hank's reluctance. "Yes," he said softly.

Remy's arms tightened. "Tell m', cher. Tell m' all y'r fantasies."

"That, my dear Cajun, will take far too long," Hank stated. "I'd rather show you. But inside. I may go by Beast, but I prefer a bed."

Remy grinned. He winked at Logan over Hank's shoulder. "Which bed?"

"Any bed. Mine, however, is the largest. And the sturdiest." Hank felt his spirits rising along with the shadow of fear that this was all a big joke. "Shall we?"

"Lemme grab this shit and we'll move the party indoors." Remy moved to help Logan and got his hand smacked. "Save yer strength, kiddo. Yer gonna need it." Logan grinned at Hank who caught the Cajun around his waist and swung him up to carry him inside. Remy laughed, lips parting in a sunny smile that Hank hadn't seen in quite awhile. Logan dumped the things on the porch and held open the back door. Remy squirmed in Hanks' arms as they entered the house. He rubbed his cheek against the doctor's shoulder as his fingers sought the fur-hidden nipples.

Hank did his level best to ignore the treatment, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. His body was starved for contact and his control wasn't good enough to prevent him from responding. Logan locked the door and followed the doctor to his bedroom. He looked around curiously and found it a surprisingly sterile place. Hank's real room was the study in his lab, a mess of controlled chaos with a leather recliner.

Hank dropped Remy onto the bed. Remy squeaked in outrage. Then, he was kicking off his boots and reaching for Logan's belt buckle with one hand and Hank's Bermuda shorts with the other. "Don't get greedy. Yer gonna get whatever Hank decides. Got it?"

"You don't got to stay if'n y're gonna give me lip, cher," Remy snapped back. "Me and Henri'll be just fine."

Hank shook his head in wonder. Then, Remy's hand was pulling on his shorts. "You first." The thief pouted, but Hank held firm. Remy pulled his tee-shirt up and over his head, then tossed it in the direction of the door. Then, he shimmied out of his jeans. Hank's mouth began to water as he looked over the young man. Logan's shirt joined the Cajun's and his jeans followed in short order. Logan tugged Hank's shorts down and off as the doctor gently tasted Remy's lips.

Logan found himself receiving the same treatment a moment later. Hank disengaged gently from the kiss. "Share him with me?"

Logan grinned. "How you want to play this?"

Remy watched the two of them with a little frown. Hank considered. Remy leaned back on his elbows.

"I want in."

"Go fer it." Remy's eyes were half-closed. His cock hardened with the gentle touch of Hank's fingers on his cheek. He tipped his face into the gesture.

"I want to fuck you." Remy's eyes snapped open, dilating in surprise as Hank leaned closer. "I want to watch you stretch to accommodate me while I push into the deepest, tenderest piece of your body. And I want to watch you suck me while Logan prepares you for me."

Logan found the tube of slick in the nightstand. Some things were universal. By the time he turned back to the bed, Remy was nuzzling Hank's balls. He watched his lover licking along the thick purple shaft. He settled on the bed next to the tableau. Hank's eyes were only on the Cajun as Logan slicked up his fingers and prodded the small entrance to Remy's rear.

Remy took as much of Hank as he could in once mouthful just as Logan's fingers entered him in one sharp motion and started stretching him. For one suspended heartbeat Remy panicked as old memories tried to swim up. But then, Hank was stroking his cheek and down his throat, coaxing him into taking more of the large cock.

Hank was bigger than Logan in both length and width and Remy had to concentrate in order to relax enough to deep throat him. Logan had added another finger. Hank's eyes took in the surprise and pleasure in the red eyes. His fingers stroked Remy's throat, wanting to fill that deep wet space. A moment of defiance in the thief's eyes made him think it was too much. Then he felt the quick breaths across his skin and understood.

Remy pulled back a few inches, then took Hank in, swallowing convulsively around the thickness. The gasp was worth the effort. Hank's fingers spasmed in Remy's hair. He let out a low moan as he came. There was no question of pulling out until the clench of muscles relaxed. The slow burn of stretching caught Remy's attention as Logan's fingers twisted and trust, then was lost in the rise of panic from having his airway completely cut off. Just before the black began to creep in, making Remy's erection strain, Hank's fingers eased and his cock softened. Remy pulled back, dragging in air and lapping at the tip, cleaning it. Hank stiffened soon enough and Logan offered him a condom and lube. Logan's own cock was hard, the veins beginning to show on it.

Hank put on the condom carefully, then caught Logan by the back of the neck and kissed him. Logan fell into the kiss, for the first time feeling fangs on the other side of the kiss and wondering at the danger of it.

Remy watched the two older men kissing. He stroked his cock, letting their emotions blend with his own. Logan caught hold of Remy's wrists. "Soon, babe. Soon." Then, still pinning the slender wrists in one large hand, he returned to the kiss with Hank. Remy's knees were spread and his lips were parted as he panted in breaths. He wanted to stroke himself. The living picture in front of him was too much. He licked his lips as the two men parted. Then, Hank was behind him and Logan was in front. Logan caught Remy in a fierce kiss, tasting Hank on his lover's tongue.

Hank pressed forward and up. He moved slowly, letting Remy adjust as the tight passage stretched to accommodate his width, wrapping it in heat. Then, Remy shifted and Hank found the way eased for a moment. Up, in, deeper and deeper he moved.

Remy whimpered into the kiss that muzzled him. Logan knew how to keep his Cajun distracted to ease the way. Remy's hips moved in concert with the firm grip that worked his cock, driving him back onto Hank's cock and forward into Logan's palm. Then, he was fully, deeply split and Hank's hands clamped down on Remy's hips. Before Remy could think, his mouth was filled with cock and his own cock was left alone.

Hank and Logan's eyes met in a silent, electric accord. They started to move in unison, leaving Remy oh so empty for a torturous moment before refilling him to the bursting point. Remy did his best to relax and let his lovers support him. The sensation of being so fully used from both ends was overwhelming. Hank and Logan were engaged in a circuit of their own, neither wanting to come first.

Then, Remy came, milking Hank's cock and invading both men's minds with his own pleasure. They both came, plunging deep into him. Time hung suspended for a moment until their brains reconnected with their bodies. Logan withdrew first, catching his nearly boneless lover and leaning him back into Hank. Hank gathered Remy close and laid there, holding him. He slid free of the young man's body with a profound sense of loss, warring with completion. Logan joined them a moment later, armed with a washcloth.

He cleaned up his lovers, carefully discarding the used condom. Remy snuggled into Hank's shoulder, one hand reaching blindly for Logan. Logan wove their fingers together and laid down on the opposite side of Hank.

"How long did you plan for this?" Hank asked.

"Nearly a month." Logan smiled. "I wasn't sure you'd go fer it, but ya needed it bad."

"Remy?"

A soft snore answered him.

Logan shook hi head. "You know the kid's an empath right? Yer pleasure's his pleasure. He loves ya. Maybe more as a brother some days, than others, but he'd do anything fer ya, Blue. I know he don't show affection real easy, but it's there."

"Thank you."

"Anytime, Hank. Any time."

FINIS

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