Inspired by BPAL's Sugar Skull 2005.
Title: Drink It In
Pairing: Gambit & Jubilee
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: No one's serious at seventeen.
Notes: Pick whatever permutation of X-Men you like
It's three in the morning, and Remy's just getting back from the city. Even at this hour, there's usually someone awake in the mansion.
Still, he's a little startled when Jubilee's head pops up from behind the sofa, and a Tootsie Roll hits him on the shoulder a second later.
"Do you mind, Gambit?" She pops a neon-colored candy into her mouth. "Some of us are trying to relish the spoils of victory."
"And my creeping quietly through the hallway distracts you, petit?" He ambles over, shedding his coat. "And what victory have you claimed?"
He peers over the sofa, and there's candy heaped in piles all around her.
"How old are you again?"
Jaw working taffy, Jubilee gives him the finger instead of an answer.
He laughs, and heads off to the kitchen.
Her footsteps are confident and arrhythmic behind him, and he can hear candy smacking between her teeth.
He ignores her, grabs a beer from the refrigerator. Before he closes the door, he pauses.
"Want one?" he asks. It's half courtesy, half curiosity, and Jubilee laughs at him.
She holds up a handful of chocolate and tart. "This is my anti-drug," she declares in a solemn voice.
He pops the cap off his beer and keeps walking. She keeps apace.
"Besides," she chirrups. "How much trouble would that get your ass into? Beer to a minor. Pssh."
There's a window open in the hallway, and he slips through the frame to the lawn outside. Leans against the wall and looks into the sky. His shoulder aches, and his fingers thrum.
There's a soft oof, and Jubilee lands softly on the ground behind him.
"Ever heard of doors?" she asks.
He takes a long draught from his beer. "Oui."
Jubilee eats another piece of candy, crackling the wrapper in her palm.
"Should I, uh," she says. "Should I leave you alone?"
She sounds almost like she cares, and he looks at her finally, and grins.
"Don't matter to me, petit," he responds. "But isn't it past your bedtime?"
She makes a face, sticks her tongue out at him.
"Screw you," she says, but with a laugh, and she hops back through the window gracefully.
He chuckles to himself, and finishes his beer.
A/N: Title and summary adapted from Arthur Rimbaud's Novel.