Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Marvel comics, and have been used without the permission of the rights holders for non-profit entertainment purposes only. The lyrics are to the song "Almost Goodbye," by Mark Chesnutt, and are reproduced without permission for the same purposes.

Almost Goodbye

Mac O'Roni

There was rain on the street last night.
We stood beneath the front door light,
And everything we said,
We made sure the neighbors heard.

     Lights went on in the mansion—that’s how loud they were. Curtains moved as sleepy mutants looked out their windows to see what the problem was. No one was particularly surprised to see that Gambit and Wolverine were at it again. For all the time the two men spent fighting each other, it was a wonder they were still together.

You called me this, I called you that,
Standing on the welcome mat.
And everything we felt,
It all came down to just one word.

     Gambit stood on the lawns, half-crouched like an angry cat. His trenchcoat collar was half up and half down, and even in the steady rain his hair was wild and unruly. He was shouting, almost screaming, and he was so angry that he had given up on English altogether and his words came in a steady stream of doubtless profane Cajun French. Not being able to understand the insults his lover was spewing at him only served to make Wolverine even angrier. He stood on the boathouse’s front step, popping his claws in and out and roaring at the young man to stop talkin’ that damn Frog an’ speak English.

But you couldn’t say it,
And I couldn’t say it.

     At some point the argument escalated into physical violence. Wolverine leaped off the stoop to grapple with the young man, but Gambit wasn’t there when he landed—jumped aside and pulled his bo, whacking the Canadian a good one before he got turned around.

You know I tried my best to go, and
I know you cried, ‘cause I hurt you so.

     Logan finally managed to wrestle the snarling, spitting young man to the ground, which succeeded in pissing the Cajun off further—he was getting mud in his hair. His eyes blazed pure red fire—it looked like his eyes were uniformly red, instead of crimson over black. He hissed fearful invectives through his gritted teeth as Logan pressed him hard to the ground in the rain.

It should have been easy But to walk away from love
Was more than we could do.

     The kid was steel underneath him, springy, coiled strength super-charged with anger. But Logan was adamantium, and he was stronger. He pushed him down into the wet, muddy grass and forced that blasted staff down until it was laid across the kid’s adam’s apple. So much anger in that flushed, gorgeous face. The kid’s secret weapon: so secret even he didn’t know about it. He was, corny as it sounded, beautiful when he was angry. Not that he wasn’t any other time. Logan wilted at the sight.
     “Get off’a me, dammit,” the kid growled, pushing back against the bo with a sudden surge of strength. It was almost enough to knock Logan sprawling.
     He leaned more of his weight into keeping the kid down, but he wasn’t interested in fighting anymore. He stroked that hot, rain-slicked cheek; stroked away the wet hair that clung to that golden skin. The Cajun wilted a little, still snarling, but no longer vicious. Logan leaned in and kissed those full, beautiful lips. When Remy kissed back, auguring that hot tongue into his mouth, he wondered why the hell they ever fought at all.

It was almost goodbye.
Almost goodbye.

     He stood, pulling Remy to his feet with him. “I’m sorry, kid,” he said. “I got carried away. Forgive me?”
     Remy pushed his hair out of his face and cast his eyes down. “Only if y’can f’give me, cher.”
     He pulled the kid into a strong hug and whispered in his ear. “Why don’t we go back inside and forgive each other, darlin’? All night long?”
     Remy grinned. “Sure, cher. Dat soun’ good t’ me.”

There was sun through the blinds this morning,
When I opened up my eyes.
Outside, I could hear
A mockingbird.

I could feel your heart beat
As you lay there by my side.
I thought of how the world could end
With just one word.

     He lay awake in the early hours of the morning, arms around the young man in the bed beside him. The Cajun was still asleep, snuggled close against his chest. Logan didn’t want to wake him—the kid was an angel when he slept. But He couldn’t resist that face; planted a soft kiss on that smooth brow. The kid woke up, blinking and smiling sleepily. “Mawnin’, cher,” he said, and yawned.
     “Mornin’, darlin’. Sleep good?”
     “Oui, eventu’ly,” Remy said, nuzzling Logan’s throat.
     “Ready for breakfast?”
     “What’s on d’menu?”
     “I don’know…I was kin’a in the mood for a little Cajun.”
     Remy grinned and sat up. “You had dat f’supper, cher. Don’ you never get tired a’eatin’ Cajun?”
     Logan grinned back at him, showing all those sharp, pointed teeth. “Can’ help it, darlin’. It tastes so good.” He pushed the kid back down onto the pillows and kissed his way down his body.

But you didn’t say it,
And I didn’t say it.

You know I tried my best to go, and
I know you cried, ‘cause I hurt you so.

     Remy panted, fingers twined in Logan’s hair, sweating and trembling. “Take it easy, cher. Remy don’ have dat healin’ factor, y’know.”
     A grunt, and a grin. “Gotta keep you tired out, Cajun, or we’ll just end up rollin’ around in the mud again.”
     “Which could be int’restin’, too, cher, in d’right circumstances…”

It should have been easy
To say that we were through,
But to walk away from love
Was more than we could do.

It was almost goodbye.
Almost goodbye.

     “You gonna have more than cigarettes for breakfast, ain’cha?” Logan asked.
     “Shoo, mon amour. Soon’s I got strength t’chew,” Remy said, grinning around the butt clenched in his teeth, eyebrows cocked at a sardonic angle. He sat at the kitchen table in that black satin smoking jacket Logan liked, looking exhausted but still gorgeous.
     “Get that thing outta yer mouth for a second, darlin’,” Logan said, taking the cigarette away from him and kissing him. “When you gonna start smokin’ cigars, eh? Make y’taste a helluva lot better.”
     Remy pouted. “So, now Remy tas’bad, neh? He see how it is now. Y’jus’ say pretty words t’me s’you c’n get in Remy’s pants.”
     Logan nibbled his earlobe. “Nah. Tried that. They don’ fit me.”
     Remy snorted and put his arms around Logan’s neck. “Why we always fightin’, cher?” he asked. “How c’n we love each ot’er so much an’ still spen’ half d’time tryin’ t’kill each ot’er?”
     “Well, let’s figure that out: We’re both stubborn.”
     “Remy not stubb’n!”
     “We’re both quick-tempered.”
     “I never lose m’temper; jus’ defen’ m’self ‘gainst yers.”
     “An’ we’re both of us alpha males. I figure we’re gonna haf’ta expect a little…friction.”
     Remy purred and rubbed himself against Logan’s body. “Well, Remy do like friction.”

Sometimes the most important words
Are the ones that you leave unspoken.

     “Knock knock! Anybody home?”
     “Jubilee,” Logan groaned. “Probably come to see if we finally murdered each other last night.”
     Remy frowned at him and opened the door. “Bon jour, Jubes,” he said. “Anyt’in’ we c’n do f’you?”
     The girl was clearly pleasantly surprised to see the Cajun with no major injuries. “Not really. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with you two. That was a…pretty nasty little brawl last night.”
     Remy laughed and put an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Aw, chère, we jus’ fight s’we c’n make up.”
     “Yeah. Cajun’s almost as good at forgivin’ as he is at fightin’.”
     “Well, you two just better try and spend more time forgiving than fighting, ‘kay? ‘Cause I don’t like to see my two best guys angry at each other.” She stretched up to plant kisses on their cheeks. “Well, I’m gonna hit the mall. You wouldn’t want to…help me out with that, would’ja, Cajun?” She batted her eyelashes coyly.
     He laughed. “A’right, a’right.” He dug in his wallet for a credit card. “Now, don’t go overboard, ma petit’…don’t wan’ Wings t’ get upset when he get his nex’ statement, neh?”
     She grinned in response to his conspiratorial wink and resolved to spend as much money as she could—Worthington could afford it.
     “All right, I’m outtie. You two stay gold—no fighting!”
     “Hakuna matata, Jubes. We got that all worked out, for today at least. You get goin’. Have fun and spend Warren broke.”
     Jubilee bounced away and Logan closed the door. “As for you, Cajun…”
     Remy rolled his eyes. “Mon Dieu, not again. Don’t you ever get tired?”

You know I tried my best to go, and
I know you cried, ‘cause I hurt you so.
It should have been easy
To say that we were through,
But to walk away from love that way;
It was more than we could do.
It was almost goodbye.
Almost goodbye.

Almost goodbye…
Almost goodbye…