Again, the pair resumed their places at the edge of the crowd, despite sitting near the middle of the long dining room table. They watched and listened as though everyone else in the room were just part of their dinner and a show. On a few occasions one or the other tossed out a sarcastic or a witty comment, but for the most part they simply weren’t great social talkers, and there was a show of sorts to be had, as Remy tried to be subtle about flirting with Siryn by way of hopefully inspiring her to forgive him, when in fact this only seemed to ruffle her. Of course, Remy was a professional, and when Siryn seemed to approach outright viciousness in her replies, he said something full of meaning, and held her gaze just a bit too long as he said it so very lightly, so that it shook her up a little and made her blush.
“You’re smirking like you taught him or something,” Logan said to Rogue.
“Blame the narcissism of his ghost, and how amused Ah am that he needed me to point out what he’d been missin’ while moonin’ after me,” Rogue replied in what was almost a whisper, her smirk turning briefly into a grin that showed her teeth.
Logan chuckled.
And maybe he won’t eavesdrop, accidentally or otherwise, while we’re on the patio, Rogue added mentally, sipping at her glass of iced tea.
At one point, Scott asked Rogue if her technological expertise extended to cutting-edge aircraft, which caused her facial expression to abruptly mask.
“Mm. Ah may’ve had some experience with planes.”
Remy chuckled. “Ya did take a bit of a crash course.”
Rogue shot him a glare that only a few people at the table could see any kind of playfulness in. “Just the one time, and that was technically part of plan B anyway.”
“Luckily,” Remy shot back.
“In this case I’m just wondering if you might be able to look into the blackbird’s cloaking mode. From what I understand, it works similarly to the illusions in the Danger Room, since Hank designed both, but I’m not really a software guy.”
Logan, Rogue, Remy and Jubilee simultaneously bit their tongues to prevent themselves interrupting him with innuendo concerning ‘hardware’.
“The cloak has been acting up a bit, and I was hoping you could look into it for me?” Scott inquired.
“Ah could probably do that, sometime after the press conference,” Rogue agreed, briefly wondering what exactly had removed the Fearless Leader’s last traces of distrust. She glanced questioningly at Logan, but he only raised his eyebrows knowingly. Rogue made a mental note to ask him later.
Of course, Rogue had said the magic words and a more furtive sort of conversation started around the table. Worried looks, and flickers of hope crossed people’s faces. Rogue could see, with some bittersweet empathy, when the hope on someone’s face immediately turned into hesitance and worry. This was a table of mutants who had long ago become accustomed to their hopes never quite coming to fruition.
“The only difference between them and us, is that they still get that hope at all. It still lights up their eyes, like something sacred,” Rogue said very softly, into her drink, so only Logan could hear it.
He nodded very slightly, almost imperceptibly. “Kinda like faith.”
Rogue hesitated. “Do ya ever miss it?”
After a thoughtful pause, he answered honestly, “Not really. You?”
“Not in the slightest,” she replied, with a faintly surprised sincerity.
She left dinner before he did, but as she pushed her chair back her fingers brushed along Logan’s thigh. He watched her out of the corner of her eye as she went, waited five minutes as he finished his meal, and then followed her, the trail of her enticing scent leading him upstairs. He found her sitting on the large oak desk in what was laughingly referred to as Logan’s office, because he almost never actually occupied it, for all that he was supposed to, as the mansion’s official self-defense teacher.
Rogue was thoughtfully looking over a few papers that had been left out on the desk. “These are from last year,” she observed in a slightly amused tone, when Logan entered. The light silk scarf she’d had around her neck had been tugged off, and set aside on the corner of the desk. She looked up when she heard him lock the office door. She smirked a little. “Ooh, do Ah get my incentive, now?”
Logan rested his hands on either side of her hips, leaning close. He smirked wickedly, especially as Rogue’s heartbeat quickened. “If you think you can handle it.”
Rogue gave a low purr. “Ah can handle anything you can dish out, Sugah.”
He plucked the papers from her hands and tossed them aside, cupped the back of her neck and pulled her into a demanding kiss. Rogue returned it eagerly, wrapping a leg around him and sliding her calf up the inner side of his leg as her tongue teased him.
Giving a low growl, Logan pulled her closer, his free hand leaving the desk to slip under the back of her shirt, caressing and exploring along the lines of her back, listening as her breath quickened. She was so sensitive, so responsive. He broke the kiss and moved his mouth down to her neck, loving the way her noise of protest turned into a gasp. Her hands slid under the front of his shirt, exploring his chest and stomach. The heat of his body and the impatience of his wandering hand, now unhooking her bra, were getting to her, making her initial excitement quickly deepen into full-blown arousal. She lifted her arms when he pulled at her shirt, and shivered slightly at how cool the air felt on her bare skin.
Logan paused for a few moments to take her in: round and shapely breasts proportionate to her frame with taut honey-colored nipples, lean muscles under her skin making her arms wiry and her stomach taut with the hint of a six-pack, and the elegant battle-axe curves of her body––ribcage tapering in at her narrow waist only to bow out again at her hips left slightly bare by the way her pants hung low on her hips.
Rogue bit her lip, watching his face as she tried, with minimal success, to get her breathing back under control. “Enjoyin’ the view?”
Logan met her gaze with a dark look, dropping her shirt and bra to the floor and leaning in closer again, pressing the evidence of his enjoyment against her. “What do you think?”
At the feel of him, Rogue’s cheekbones lit with a soft pink flush and her pupils dilated. She grinned brightly. “Ah think Ah enjoy you enjoyin’ the view, but Ah’d much prefer ya do more than just look,” she purred, and ground her hips against him.
“I plan on it,” he growled, and reached down between them to unbutton her jeans. He tugged the zipper down, and she arched her hips, allowing him to tug the fabric of both her pants and panties down her legs, and he went down on one knee as he did, smirking at the way her breathing grew more ragged at the sight of him there between her legs.
Her scent filled the air, heated and heady. Logan was sure he could drown in it. He put one of her legs over his shoulder and pushed the other aside, parting the outer lips of her sex with his fingers and tasting her in a long, slow lick that made her whimper.
Rogue felt her arms shaking and leaned back, resting on her elbows as she looked down the length of her body at Logan. He shot her one more grin and latched his mouth around her clit, suckling and licking until Rogue’s body quivered and her head fell back as she softly moaned something that sounded like his name.
Logan continued to tease her, with his mouth, but couldn’t resist feeling her more intimately again, and thus slid two fingers into her, pumping slowly. She was very tight, and only got tighter as her climax approached, the change in her scent––the way it deepened and gained an almost spicy edge––making him painfully hard in his jeans. He sucked at her again, flicking his tongue across her clit in quick, sharp licks as he did so, curling his fingers up slightly and pumping faster.
Rogue shuddered as the sensations overwhelmed her, pleasure bursting out from her core and sending waves of bliss throughout the whole of her body as she climaxed. She whimpered in relief when Logan released her clit, but the continued pumping of his fingers kept her riding on the aftershocks long enough that she did not realize he had gotten to his feet again and was leaning over her until his mouth wrapped itself around her nipple, making her gasp.
Her eyes fell open to stare at him, and Logan met her gaze easily, releasing her breast from his lips, only to capture it again in his hand as he leaned in further, his lips brushing hers as he pulled his hand away from her sex. “I told you I’d make it up to you,” he purred.
Rogue shivered again, feeling his erection pressed against her thigh. Her eyes still slightly glazed, she hooked a leg around his hip and pulled him closer. She nipped playfully at the corner of his jaw. “That ya did, Sugah, but now what do you want?”
Logan groaned softly, his own breathing far from even now. “I haven’t got a condom on me-”
“Ya don’t need it.” She smirked a little. “I was under some interesting drugs during all the surgery on my skin, and apparently asked for an IUD birth control, and was somehow articulate enough to claim it would be needed, and they saw fit t’ give me one despite how loopy I was when I asked.” She leaned up and ran her tongue along the line of his throat.
Logan hissed in relief and reached down between them to get his jeans open. Rogue helped, unfastening the button and pulling his zipper down once he’d unfastened his belt, and using her legs to push the denim down and out of the way. Then she tugged his shirt over his head and arched up against his chest, shivering at the feel of so much skin, and all of the strength and heat of him from beneath it.
She said his name in a low, breathy voice as she felt the head of his cock pressing into her. He stretched her, pushing in slowly. Rogue trembled in anticipation, despite the slight sting as he pressed through the only part of her that could be called her ‘innocence’; she could scarcely feel it, since he was kissing her again. He was hot and hard and she bucked against him, sending the last few inches into her all at once and earning a moan from both of them, Logan breaking the kiss to stare at her: shocked and very, very turned on.
Rogue’s hands clutched at his ass and she met his gaze with a dark and hungry look as he pulled back. “Don’t hold back, Logan.”
He growled and slammed back into her, deeper than before, and rougher, picking up a rhythm and not being gentle. The way she met his every stroke so expertly, and the ways she kept touching him and running her hands over him as he fucked her, made it clear that she was hardly innocent, but he knew that he was the only one who had ever touched her, and that thought was strangely satisfying to him. He growled almost possessively as he fixed his mouth over a tender spot on her neck. She felt good, and knew what she was doing, and it took all of his control to keep going long enough for her to reach another climax before he lost it, and came within her with one last bruising thrust.
They lay entangled on the desk for a minute, still breathing hard. Rogue trembled now and then with the lingering weakness and sensitivity from her orgasm, and it was so lovely that Logan was trying to figure out whether they had time for another round when voices reached him from the hallway.
“But he’s never in his office.” That annoying tone could come from no one but the ice-boy.
“Well, he’s certainly not in any of his other haunts, but the bikes are all present and accounted for.” Click-click. “And the door’s actually locked for once.”
Logan lifted his head and glared at the door shortly before the second speaker––sometimes called Pyro––knocked loudly. “Hey! Anybody in there?”
“Fuckoff!” Logan growled.
“Hey, don’t claw the messenger. Jean just told me to track down your hairy ass to tell you that the speech is gonna be on in half an hour, only since it took me so long to find you it’s more like ten, now. Also, do you know where Rogue is?”
Logan looked down at her and raised an eyebrow.
Rogue merely shrugged, appearing genuinely amused.
“Consider her informed,” Logan replied.
“What does that mean?” Iceman asked Pyro quietly, but not quietly enough.
“It means Ah got the message, and ya can go away now.”
There was a surprised and puzzled silence from the two young men behind the door. Then Pyro said, “Uh...sure.” And they left.
Logan snorted in irritation at them, and consoled himself by earning a low noise of surprise from Rogue as he nibbled her neck.
“If ya keep doin’ that, we may never leave, Logan,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even.
Logan considered for a moment and pulled back. “Yeah, and then Scooter may break the door down to yell at me, and half the damned school would somehow end up starin’ at us.” This was clearly more to fortify his own self-restraint than for any other purpose. He pushed himself up and to his feet, but his gaze lingered on Rogue, momentarily surprised to note that there wasn’t a mark on her. “Invulnerability really covers a lot, I see.”
Rogue sat up looking down at herself and tilting her head. “Hickeys and bite-marks at least. Makes us even since any marks I might try to leave on you just heal up.” She looked almost disappointed for a moment before she turned to reach for her bra and shirt, putting them back on. She wiped herself up with her scarf and then put on her panties, and her jeans.
Logan just pulled his jeans back up, zipped them, and watched her, not really feeling all that hurried. He liked the way her scent mixed with his, and wondered briefly what she planned on doing with that scarf. Once she was dressed again, she stepped up to him, buttoned his jeans, and buckled his belt, while holding his gaze evenly.
“I get to be on top, next time,” she said, her voice low and firm, and then she stepped past him, unlocking the door and stepping out into the hall.
Logan watched her, feeling the smirk as it crossed his features. He followed her.
The TV was totally surrounded, leaving many of the younger students crowded on the floor, but they had consciously left an open seat for the Wolverine. Rogue had already perched on the arm of the seat by the time Logan arrived to take his place in it. Once people had stopped shooting them curious looks and the TV had been turned up as the introduction music began to play, Logan reached out idly and tugged Rogue into his lap.
Biting her lip to keep from making an embarrassing squeal-type noise, Rogue stiffened a bit and glared at Logan.
He tilted his head and gave her a look that seemed to ask if she really had any qualms, here. One of his hands had settled on her hip, and stroked gently.
Rogue shifted uncomfortably for a moment, searching his face to be sure she was reading the situation correctly, then silently acquiesced, leaning back against him and returning her attention to the television as she slowly, and––to her surprise––almost involuntarily, relaxed. Her hand settled on top of Logan’s, stroking the hollows between his knuckles.
Most of the others were so focused on the screen that they scarcely noticed; although Scott, Remy, Siryn, and Jean may have shot the pair curious looks. Rogue and Logan ignored them, as the President of the United States of America approached his podium.
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