Author's Chapter Notes:
Enough said. Some smoochies commence.
Rogue had just started complaining about blood rushing to her head when Logan unceremoniously dumped her off his shoulder and firmly plunked her on his bike. With a little more force that was strictly necessary. She’d put him through the ringer tonight so it was the least she deserved.

“Ow, my ass!” she rubbed her backside and tried to glare at Wolverine, but the intention of the nasty look was lost due the silly grin she was sporting.

“You’ll heal,” he snorted and gestured at her face, which was already pretty much back to its normal delicate shade of pale peach despite the various bruises and contusions she’d sustained over the course of the evening. They were fading before his eyes.

Rogue checked her reflection in one of the bike’s side view mirrors, turning to inspect herself under the lamplight in the parking lot. “Is that your blood or mine?” she asked, pointing to a smear across her cheek.

He leaned over and sniffed, separating her own delectable smell from the bourbon generously poured all over her and his own scent. “Mine. Think it’s from where you hit me in the mouth. I might’ve spit on you,” he said unapologetically as Rogue made a disgusted expression and scrubbed at her cheek. He held up one hand, inspecting his knuckles, and inhaled. Mmmmmm. “This is yours. Think your nose bled.”

“Yeh, I felt that one,” and Rogue rubbed one gloved hand under her nose, brushing away flaked blood. “Nice shot.” Instead of looking perturbed she quirked a grin at him.

He grunted, “You too.” Something clicked in his head. Ok, maybe it didn’t click as much as grind painfully into place, like a rusty cog. “How many times did you get hit in the face tonight?”

Rogue snorted and swung off the bike, rubbing her aching rear end vigorously. “What, you counting? I beat you, admit it!” She leaned towards him, gloved fingers playing with the white streaks framing her face.

“I don’t give a shit who won," he growled. I did. “I’m serious Rogue. How many times did you get hit in the face?” Wolverine’s tone brooked no back talk this time.

Rogue’s fingers stilled in her hair and her smile ratcheted down a notch at his voice. “None of those other fuckers got a chance too," she snorted derisively at her earlier competitors, "Only you. Lucky shots too!" The look on his face darkened, but she smiled at him anyways. "I dunno…maybe a dozen times. Maybe more if you count those fucking elbows,” she winced and massaged her jaw. “But I got you more! And I got in a helluva lot more kicks and-“

“Shut up,” he growled.

“Don’t you te-“ Her face flushed angrily.

Wolverine’s hand covered her mouth roughly. Rogue’s eyes widened in surprise then narrowed in annoyance as his grip tightened on her jaw and kept her from jerking her head away to tell him off.

“Don’t…move…” he said gruffly. Rogue stilled, startled at the intense look in Wolverine’s eyes. He was focused intently on her face, his hand over her mouth, drilling into her eyes. He held her like that for over a minute, then took a sharp breath and released her. “Nothing…I didn’t feel anything.”

Rogue’s expression changed and she smirked slyly at him. “Wow sugah, you sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

Impatient at her apparently deliberate denseness, Wolverine grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her, “Your mutation, Rogue. I can’t feel it. It’s gone.”

Rogue batted his hands away, “No, it’s not silly!”

Silly? I’d be freaking out if my claws disappeared…or I had to deal with razor burn.

“Yes it is, I touched and nothing pulled, look” and he laid his hand on her face again for several seconds, brows furrowed sharply as he stared into her eyes, then he pulled back again. “I don’t feel anything right now, not even the slower drain I felt before when…you were hurt,” his voice soft, serious. “I didn’t even realize it during the fight, I was…”

“Distracted? That was the point sugah.” Rogue leaned into his hand and rubbed her face against his roughened, dirty palm. “It’s still there…for everyone else...except you.” His face was a mass of confusion, and she closed her eyes to the sight. She spoke quietly, relieved to finally share what she’d know for days and days. “The last few days when I went in the woods by myself I was testing my touch against animals. That’s how I brought down that deer for dinner, not the claws. It still works…just not on you. I touched you tonight before I left, when you were...uh...asleep to confirm it.” She had the decency to look a bit ashamed of ambushing him after dinner.

“What are you s-” Rogue put one dirty glove on Wolverine’s lips, silencing him.

“You told me my mutation stopping taking yours as hard when I was injured, that I needed more touches to heal me...I was awake that last time” she whispered, referring to when after she’d woken up and smashed the drinking glass. Thinking she was asleep he’d held her face for many minutes. She’d held still and quiet and felt it all, his concern, his yet unrecognized love for her, the slow pulsing sensation of her mutation that eventually stilled entirely under his hand, leaving only a soft malaise on both of them.

She’d known then he’d changed her in so many ways and unconsciously allowed her to recognize his powers, his life, his feelings, everything he had was inextricably entwined within her, in her soul.

“It felt so…different. Like I had already everything of you, your memories, your thoughts, you power…everything you could give me...” She opened her eyes and the look in them stopped Wolverine’s heart, “…and I didn’t need any thing else. It stopped.”

“How?” His hand hovered over her cheek again, still not fully believing what she was saying.

“I didn’t know how to explain with words…it’s still hard to…” Her forehead creased thoughtfully as she sought for the right way to express it. “It’s like you are me.”

Wolverine’s mouth dropped open. That’s what I wanted to tell you Rogue.

“I don’t think my mutation recognizes you as ‘other’ anymore. Every part of me, my power, my mind...my heart…it sees you as a part of me now. Your touch feels as natural and safe as my own hand…” her eyes drifted open and her gaze was soft on his face. “You gave me more than either of us expected...more than anyone ever has.” She feathered a kiss over the fingers at her cheek and Wolverine’s eyes closed at the sensation.

It made sense, he hadn’t touched her bare skin long enough to notice any change to her mutations since that time. He’d just assumed it had recovered as fully as her body had.

“Why didn’t you say something before? Why’d you make me fight you tonight?” Wolverine pressed his forehead against hers, willing everything she said to be true.

She titled her head back and that mischievous grin reappeared. “Well sugah, I DID try to put the moves on you…twice. And that was a bust. I had to do something!”

“What?” He shook his head. He would have noticed if she’d…wait…

3...2...1...

I am fucking retarded.

“The clearing, after the buck, dumbass. What did you think I was doing? I was practically dry humping you!” She burst out laughing. “Oh my god, the look on your face was priceless.”She fanned her face. "Who knew you could scream like that? That was HOT."

Wolverine huffed and pushed her back and Rogue stumbled into the bike still giggling. “That wasn’t you. It was HIM.”

To her credit, Rogue didn’t flare up at being rudely shoved back. “Oh yes it was sugah. He is me, just as much as you are and I wouldn’t part with either of you for anything...the growly guy inside my head just…ah…helped me see things a little clearer.” She swaggered up to him again, refusing to be pushed aside, and leaned against him.

“He knows how much the smell of blood and the hunt turns you on sugah. And I got a little secret: gets me hot too.” The animal inside him growled with satisfaction. “The idea of hunting with you has been a little fantasy of mine for years,” she whispered in his ear, her warm breath causing his heart rate to spike. Taking her gloves off, Rogue laid her hands on both sides of Wolverine’s face, winding them through his muttonchops, teasing his ear with her lips.

He took a deep breath, drinking in the smell of her sweat, their combined blood, that smoky sweet scent that was all her own that drove him crazy, and as if it couldn’t get better…she was soaked in Kentucky bourbon.

There is a God and he really likes me.

Is that her tongue? Holy-


She was saying something. He figured it might be important so he tried to listen through the celebratory roaring in his head. “But you ran off.”

He blushed at the memory of that most un-Wolverine exit.

“The second time I tried to appeal to the man instead of the Wolverine, which backfired and upset both of us. Sooooo…this was plan C.” Rogue was now nibbling down his jaw line, and Wolverine convulsively grabbed her hips and dragged her against him roughly.

“Plan C?” he muttered, eyes rolling back in his head. Keep moving darlin, a little lower.

Rogue titled her head back and Wolverine growled a little at the loss of her lips against his skin. “Sugah, even before I got a little you running around in my head I knew a good cage match makes you angry as hell and horny as fuck, so I…” and she circled her hand to encapsulate the bar, the bike, them.

Devious…works for me. Wolverine inwardly shrugged and returned his attention to the feel of Rogue pressed against him and dragged one of her hands to his mouth and licked the bare palm in a slow, lazy circle. Her breath hitched in a satisfactory way and he smirked. Still got it. “I like plan C.”

“Oh reeeeeeaally?” she drawled. “How much?” Her dark chocolate eyes were deeply inviting, as was every inch of her that was pressed against him.

“Hold these,” he grunted and thrust the two bottles of whiskey at her.

“What the hell?” It was Rogue turn to look completely confused. One second she was tracing nice little patterns on Wolverine’s neck while his hands massaged her no-longer-sore bottom in a delightful way and the next he was several feet away and the only thing she had in her hands was booze.

Wolverine swung a leg over the bike and braced himself to kick start it. “Darlin, we gotta go. I ain’t giving any of those assholes,” jerking his head at the bar behind him, “a complimentary peep show.”

She grinned and swung her own leg over the motorcycle. “Wait!” she shouted just as the bike roared to life and Wolverine’s hand made to twist the throttle. “Uh…how am I supposed to hold on with these?” He held the two fifths of booze out to her sides so he could see them over his shoulder.

“You got 10 seconds to get creative,” he growled, extremely anxious to get on the road and back to the cabin ASAP. Rogue unzipped the front of her uniform, which gave Wolverine ample reason to raise one then both eyebrows until they almost disappeared into his hairline. She shoved one fifth into her cleavage and nestled the other one in between his thighs snugly up against his groin and secured it with one hand, wrapping the other one around his bare waist

God damn, she is perfect.

He pushed the bike to 80 intent on the road in front of him, willing the miles to pass faster, leaning over the handlebars. Rogue was whooping with pleasure into his back, the hand under his jacket playing over the muscles. She suddenly pinched his nipple hard and Wolverine swerved, causing the bike to wobble precariously before he straightened it back up.

“Nuh uh sugar! No killing us! Concentrate on the road!” Rogue yelled.

“Could concentrate if you kept your hands to yourself!” he snapped, but his tone didn’t do anything but encourage her uncovered roaming hand, which teased the side of his stomach, caressing, scratching, causing his nerves to spark and sizzle wherever her touch landed. He had to clench his jaw and steel himself against every stroke, despite the voice in his head snarling to pull over to the side of the road and bend her over the bike. When her free hand crept underneath the bottle and cupped him the speedometer hit 100mph and he breathed a silent prayer to the God he was sure now was a big Wolverine fan that no police cars appeared behind him.

God apparently was in a good mood and let them make it back in one piece. He jammed on the brake, causing the bike to slide to the side in a spray of gravel, and immediately jumped off the bike and reached for Rogue, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to the cabin door. She wriggled delightfully in his arms, allowing him to cup the side of one breast and nip at her throat when her arms went around his neck. He carried her up the porch and kicked the door open, settled her down on her feet then tipped her face up to his.

Finally.
Chapter End Notes:
Next chapter is no-holds barred NC-17 action, be prepared for rough stuff.

Am writing it now and will post tonight or tomorrow. Hope it was worth the wait!
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