Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/629572.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      X-Men_(Comicverse)
  Relationship:
      Belladonna_Boudreaux/Remy_LeBeau
  Character:
      Remy_LeBeau, Belladonna_Boudreaux
  Series:
      Part 2 of Les_Liaisons_Dangereuses
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-01-08 Words: 2871
****** Les Liaisons Dangereuses: Con Man ******
by DeadlyGambit
Summary
     Gambit’s life as a thief has its ups and downs. A down being he has
     to seduce a target he does not desire and make it as believable as
     possible! Told from Gambit’s point of view.
Les Liaisons Dangereuses: Con Man
By: Nicole Wagner: The Deadly Gambit
 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
I do not want to be here, but I have to be here. This guy knows where I can
find a painting stolen by Nazis during World War 2, and he’s the only one I can
exploit to get the information I need to retrieve it. If this was a woman, it
would be so much easier.
 
When it comes to targets, I prefer women. Easy on the eyes, easy to woo into
bed for a quick romp, and much easier to get information from. When it comes to
men, it is a bit harder. Some men prefer more butch guys, someone who looks and
acts like Wolverine of all people. Others like a more feminine, delicate kind
of man. And then there are some who enjoy just a regular day to day guy. There
really is no balance between the three, so I am really forced to put on a show.
Tonight, the guy I am trying to get information from likes the second choice
rather than the first and third.
 
I look in the mirror and think of how different I have to look for this job. I
cannot go in looking all scruffy, that would turn this guy off faster than me
flipping a light switch. I’m clean shaven for once, my hair brushed and neat
looking. Hell, I look like a regular old choir boy. I even look like I’m not
old enough to walk into a whore house! If Rogue or Joelle saw me like this, no
doubt they would be laughing their pretty little asses off.
 
Taking the utmost care, I adjust my tie and make sure my cufflinks are in
place. I have to look “innocent”, “naïve”, and all around “pretty”. Like all of
my heists where information is required, I put on a theater mask and play a
role for a night. Tonight, I play the role of a young art collector from
Louisiana. I’m new in town, don’t know anyone, and have “daddy issues”. All the
traits my target likes and would be attracted to. His eyes will be on me
tonight, while my mind will be elsewhere.
 
Some people may see what I do as a cruel con, a hoax to play men and women for
information or treasures like you have never seen before. I personally think I
am giving them what they deserve. They are just as much as the thief and
scoundrel as I am. The only difference is my talents are often in the dark and
in highly secure areas. Theirs lie in Ponzi schemes, investment fraud, gold
digging, and black markets. This is where I am a Robin Hood, and my targets are
all the Sheriff of Nottingham.
 
Once I believe I am looking every bit the fantasy man my target wants, I leave
the bathroom. I have a nervous smile on my face as I go back to the posh party
I was “invited” to attend. I am not really nervous, just playing the role I am
meant to play. I have to keep this up all night to keep everyone else off
guard. “
 
“I’m here for a lost painting, to bring it back to its rightful owners” I tell
myself over and over again in my mind. I have to stay focused on the prize. If
I don’t, then everything could all fall apart. I cannot slip up, I’m too good
of a thief to slip up. Plus I like a good challenge! Gives me a thrill like no
other.
 
It does not take my target long to notice me from across the room. Out of the
corner of my eye I can see him starting to walk up to me, just as I take a wine
flute off a waiter’s tray. He’s in his mid-forty’s, short salt and pepper hair,
blue grey eyes, and average build. Not very good-looking, but this is not going
to be something long term. I get what I need and I get out.
 
“Well, you barely look old enough to even be drinking that, handsome.”
 
If that’s his pick-up line, it sucks. I just give off that boyish, nervous
smile as his hand moves up my arm and his body pushes closer to mine. Not as
refined as I am when I flirt, but this is a job for me. I can’t really ask for
much.
 
“You really t’ink so, Sir?” I ask coyly, making sure that when I smile I show
my teeth. “I don’ get told dat very often by gentlemen as powerful as
yourself.”
 
“Well you should be told that you are handsome more often, then.” His hand
starts to trail up and down my arm. Forcing that smile and the blush on my face
is somewhat harder to do, now. I take a small sip of my wine. His lips move
close to my ear to whisper into it. “Would you like to join me in my study? I
think a man such as yourself could appreciate the fine art I have in there.”
 
“Really? Dat sounds quite nice, Sir. I would be honored to!” I come off as
eager, but not overly eager. I know he does not want me to just view the art.
He wants more. He wants this pretty boy I am playing as a notch in his belt. As
long as I get what I am after in the end, I can live with what needs to be
done. “So, what artists do you collect? Monet is a favorite of mine. I love his
use of colors and the whole impressionism movement.”
 
“Ah, so you are a collector. I had you pegged for one the minute you walked
into my mansion.” He smiles, his hand resting on my back as we walk towards his
study. “I noticed you were admiring those Picasso sketches on the wall before
you went to go freshen up.”
 
Good to know my act was up to par, that he had his eyes on me the whole time. I
would have been disappointed otherwise. I continue to look as nervous and coy
as possible as he leads me into his study. As soon as I walk in and the door is
shut behind me, I feel a pair of lips upon me.
 
His kissing was rough, hungry. My mind instantly goes to thinking about the
many women I have kissed in my life, to help me make this more believable. I
think of the first time I kissed Belladonna. My heart was racing and I was a
nervous wreck. I doubt anyone could believe that, but a first kiss is possibly
one of the most nerve wracking things a guy can go through in life. I then
start to change gears, thinking of how I kissed Joelle back in Guatemala. It
was passionate, but frantic.
 
I can feel his hands roaming over the front of my dress shirt, then going for
my pants. I give out a moan, giving him a somewhat embarrassed look as he
started to unbuckle my belt. It’s so hard to keep such a charade going. On one
hand, this guy is slim, on the other, I am getting excited from the danger of
it all. Of being found out, or wondering if I can pull this heist without a
hitch. That painting I am after is hanging over his desk, just a few feet away.
I am so close to getting my prize.
 
He whispers in my ear how much of a southern pretty boy I am, how I should be
honored he’s even giving me the light of day. This guy doesn’t want to fuck me,
he wants to shame me by getting me off and then leave the room knowing he did
so to such an innocent southern boy. I let my mind wander to a memory that
would arouse me most to give him what he wants. I start thinking about my first
time with Belladonna.
 
It’s true what they say. You never forget your first time. Belladonna and I
were at our make-out spot in the bayou. We often went there to make out, since
no one from the guilds knew where it was or could catch us. Our own secret
place, our special place. We were kissing somewhat passionately, when her hand
brushed against my thigh. It began to travel farther, curious about the male
body I suppose. Just as how I was curious about what she was hiding under her
shirt.
 
We were still quite young. Neither one of us having seen a naked man or woman
in the flesh before. Maybe in text books for her, and skin mags for me.
Everything was so fresh and new, like that brand new toy you got as a surprise
for Christmas under the tree. How you relish tearing it open, discovering what
it was, and then playing with it until you tired yourself out.
 
Like that wrapping paper, we nearly tore our clothes off of our bodies, taking
in the sights of one and other naked for the first time. Her hands moved down
my chest, down to my hips. Taking in every inch of my skin before she started
to touch my dick. It was unlike anything she had seen in any books, I imagine.
Since I only remember living on the streets, I doubt I was even born in any
hospital. Because of that, I’m uncircumcised.
 
I remember feeling a little embarrassed about it, especially since I did not
know at the time it was different from other men. But I just smiled and showed
her how to pull my foreskin back, showing the sensitive head of my dick. The
second her fingers ran over that exposed flesh, I remember twitching in
pleasure. It was as through lightning bolt of pleasure had gone through me.
 
Her hand then went to start stroking me, making me groan and pant with complete
lust and desire. It was to the point I felt light headed and dizzy. Not even my
own hand felt as good as hers, so soft, so delicate. I hand to reach my hand
down to stop hers from continuing. I did not want to come, not yet. I wanted to
save that for later.
 
I pushed Belle on her back, crawling on top of her and kissing her with a
hunger I had never felt before. Our hormones were raging, my dick was throbbing
with a need for her unlike any I had felt before that, and she was growing
quite wet between her legs. One of my hands moved over her slit, feeling how
hot she felt there, feeling the wetness developing just from our juvenile
kissing and touching of one and other. When you were as innocent as we were
back then, it was easy to get turned on without any real foreplay.
 
“Remy, please…” She whimpered as I began pushing my finger inside of her. She
felt so tight against my finger, so hot inside. I was entranced by it, thinking
of how my dick would feel inside of her. I began to thrust my finger in and out
of her, listening to her whimper and moan. Trying to see what would hurt and
what was okay to do before we actually had sex. “Please Remy… I want’cha so
bad, now…”
 
I could not deny her or myself any longer. I pulled my finger out of her and
started to position myself at her entrance. I actually missed my target the
first few times I tried to thrust within her, but then I finally figured it
out. I almost came right there and then as the head of my dick pushed within
her. I realized that how her hand felt better than mine when I jerked myself
off, her pussy felt even better than all of that!
 
“I-it hurts!”
 
I did not know that sex for virgin girls was so painful. But I found myself
unable to stop. I kept pushing myself inside of her, stopping once I felt a
barrier blocking my way. I was not even inside of her all the way and something
was blocking me. From what I remember from sex ed, it was her hymen. Virgin
girls had a hymen and it had to be broken. If I didn’t break it, we wouldn’t be
having real sex… and I would be leaving Belle in pain, right?
 
It bit down on my bottom lip and just forced the rest of my dick inside of her
with a loud groan escaping my throat, and tears escaping her eyes. She was
crying, and I was panicked, apologizing for hurting her. I was really concerned
I had hurt her bad. I forced myself to remain still, despite my body telling me
to start moving. I cupped the side of her face with my hand, trying to calm her
down.
 
“I’m sorry… I didn’ know it would hurt like dat!”
 
“Remy, it’s… its okay.” I was shocked by her response. She actually forced a
tearful smile, holding my hand up against her face. “It ain’… hurtin’ as much
now.”
 
The minute she spoke those words, I started thrusting. I was a bit sloppy when
I moved my hips, but it was my first time, after-all. You have to learn
somewhere, right? I remember never feeling so good before, and feeling guilty
that Belle did not share the same feelings. She had this look of pain,
pleasure, and even some confusion as we made love. She looked so beautiful that
day.
 
As with most first times, it was not meant to last very long. I had not
mastered the ability to hold myself back, to keep myself calm to prolong the
experience. I just came when I felt the need to. And within ten minutes of
actual sex, I felt like I had to. I actually gave out a somewhat strangled cry
as I released inside of Belle.
 
Because everything was done in the heat of the moment, I had forgotten to bring
a condom with me. But we were young and in love at the time, so it did not
matter. Nothing mattered at that moment. We were now a man and a woman, no
longer children.
 
Just as that memory faded from my mind, I was back to reality. I was panting,
my dick was throbbing and completely erect now. I was nearing my climax as my
target gave off a somewhat wicked smile. I grasped his biceps, giving out a
loud groan as I came in his hand. My whole body tingled, and my knees felt a
bit wobbly as I started to come down from it.
 
“Good boy.” He had such a wicked grin on his face. If only he knew he did not
make me come… that grin would be wiped off his face faster than me getting a
woman to drop her panties. I watched him lick his hand clean, then take out a
handkerchief and hand it over to me. “Be a good boy and get yourself cleaned up
and then return to the party. I doubt you wish to be seen as such a mess, now,
would you?”
 
“N-no, Sir.” I stammered, still acting like a nervous wreck. I watched as he
patted my head with his clean hand, then walk out the door for the bathroom. I
was alone, alone with my prize. I clean myself off with that handkerchief he
gave me, and then put myself back in my pants. After fixing my clothes and
making sure I looked prime and proper, I headed towards the desk and the
painting that hung behind it.
 
The things I do for the thrill. I shake my head with a smile not even Rogue
could punch off my face. I work quickly, yet carefully to remove the picture
from its gaudy looking frame. I take the utmost care with something as precious
as this work of art. I’ve stolen art before, I know how to handle and care for
it without any true damage (aside from cutting it out of a frame, of course).
I’m getting hard just knowing someone could walk in on me working like this.
I’m a danger junkie and a con man with a heart, what can I say?
 
Once I got the picture out and safely stored in a tube I had hidden in my pants
leg (thankfully my target did not push my pants all the way down, or else he
would have found it), I casually walk out of the room, as if nothing ever
happened. I rush out of the party, not making eye contact with anyone. I look
flustered, embarrassed, giving the impression something happened between me and
my target. Something for his guests to talk about and rumors to start about to
damage his reputation.
 
And like that I am gone, I have my prize, got some vindication for the family
of the stolen art, and I got my thrills. In all, it was a good night. Now I
have to hope tomorrow night will be just as good, if not better.
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