Even though Avalanche was actually alright in algebra and came by to help his pal muddle through variables, his imprisonment in the library was sheer hell and it barely started. Wolverine decided the Professor was an evil sadist. Super healer or not he was getting headache the size of Manhattan, and homework should be banned by the Geneva convention.
“Christ, I’m never going to use this shit,” he growled for the tenth time that night.
Lanche rubbed his fists into his eyes for the tenth time himself. “Look man, I have no idea what the hell people use this for after high school either,” he admitted. “But if you want Xavier off your ass then you have to get your grades up.”
“I know,” the dark teen sighed. “I just too fucking thick to get it.”
“Yeh, you are pretty stupid,” Lanche agreed.
“No need to agree so quickly,” Wolverine grumbled and gave his pal a scorching look that not only failed to make the guy’s hair fall out but made him laugh in his face.
“But dude,” Avalanche lowered his voice conspiratorially and looked around the library to make sure no one was in earshot, “you got mad street smarts. Rogue told me you got Jean to cover for you. That was slick.”
Wolverine couldn’t help himself but smile tightly to himself at the reminder. “Yeh well, it was just blind luck mixed with the right amount of blackmail.” He nudged his friend. “I thought all you’d been busted too.”
Lanche flung himself back in his chair and put his hands on his head. “No shit! When I heard you guys were in with the big man I thought we were all dead!”
“Shhhh!” an admonishing hiss came from another table. Lanche looked over at Kitty, who was nose deep in a history book.
He threw her a wink then turned back to his pal. “Seriously, we owe you big time, man.” He chucked Wolverine in the shoulder then bent back to his textbook, filling in the margins with pornographic doodles rather than equations.
“Yeh, well if you want to pay me back put M.U. on hold for the next few weeks,” the shorter teen grumbled as he lowered his head once again over the puzzle of x over 7.
Lanche blinked disbelievingly at this suggestion. “What the hell? Hey, I know you don’t want to miss the action, but you and Rogue will get your cuts and-“
Wolverine slapped a hand over Lanche’s mouth and looked around suspiciously again. “Quiet, asshole!” Lanche blinked and nodded, so the dark boy removed the palm from over his yap. “Look Lanche, it was close, fucking curlies-on-your-nuts-close. Next time we probably won’t be so lucky.” His friend nodded. “Seriously, there’s no point in borrowing trouble right now, Xavier’s wise to something going on, so just play it cool. Everyone keep their noses clean for a bit.”
His eyes narrowed as he checked around them again for eavesdroppers. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t drum up more business in the meantime. I’m talking SERIOUS business. One…last…bash,” he emphasized as he slid a list over to his partner in crime.
Avalanche’s face split in an evil grin at the paper. “For all the chips, then we cut it loose before we all get nailed.” Wolverine nodded, glad his buddy understood the danger and the potential. “Sucks it’s gotta end, it’s been a good run, but I understand. Almost got enough to put a down payment on that Jeep I been looking at,” the wiry boy sighed as he flipped pages in his notebook.
Wolverine patted his bud on the shoulder. “Who’s to say we don’t start up again after graduation?”
“My man, I like the way you think!” Lanche exclaimed. Kitty shushed them again from the other table, but softened her hiss with a lascivious look at Lanche. “That’s IF you graduate. You’re on your own for the rest of the night, Wolverine.” The earth shaker eased over to the next table and sat on it, chatting up Shadowcat while looking down her shirt. Wolverine hunched back over his homework, his mind only half on fucking coefficients and the rest on how to make sure their last slam was completely worthwhile.
Rouge slouched in just as he was slamming his math book shut in frustration and reaching for the only thing more boring, history. Her sweatshirt hood was pulled up over her head and her jeans rode low enough to pique Wolverine’s interest with a strip of purple lacey something. She flung herself into the chair next to his with a cranky look on her face, and he quirked an eyebrow at her waiting for whatever it was that was stuck in her craw.
He didn’t have to wait long. “I feel like I’m in prison!” she burst out and flung her head dramatically on her arms across the table, like the weight of being confined to campus was too much to bear. Muffled curses sounded from under her hood. Something like, “Cnebnneekazmok” also leaked out.
“What?” He lifted her hoodie back, but Rogue kept her face pressed against the table.
“I can’t even sneak a smoke with the windows wired,” she groaned. Yeh, that did suck, which was why he was going to chain like a chimney behind the Institute before he had to go to his room at 9pm like a naughty 10 year old.
He stroked the back of her head. “It’s okay, darlin’, it’s only 2 weeks,” he said calmly. She didn’t look like she was in the mood for jokes.
He was right about that as her head snapped up and she leveled him with a glare that almost made him lean back in his chair away from her. She looked positively venomous. “You won’t be saying that when you’re stuck in the garage with Scooter. Then you’ll be crying about cruel and unusual punishment too!”
“You gotta point,” he grudgingly admitted. The parts for the truck had come in and tomorrow he and Cyke would be forced together over a busted up engine. Knowing Angel they’d be locked in the garage too boot. Wolverine seriously doubted having the two of them surrounded by drills and saws was a good idea. Fuck it, he could heal and Jean might digs scars on her squeeze.
“As if seeing that asswipe at school wasn’t enough now I’m tied to him here too. Shit,” he sighed.
Rogue was entirely unsympathetic, “Whatever! At least you get to GO somewhere, talk to other people, get out of the freaking house! It’s just me, my computer, the goddamn Professor, and that kid made out of toxic waste here all day. Not exactly stimulating,” she grumped, flopping her head down again on her arms, which made her hoodie flap once again over her head as she sent up an anguished wail of frustration.
“You need some stimulation?” Wolverine grinned, as he flipped through his history book and pretended to be absorbed in some crap about Archduke Ferdinand, a pansy ass name if he ever heard one. Meanwhile, his other hand crept below the table to squeeze Rogue’s thigh, then meander further up until it was toying with her zipper.
“Maybe,” came the muffled response from the curtain of hoodie and splayed black and silver tresses.
Not one to require much encouragement, Wolverine dragged her to the back of the stacks and cornered her in a dark section on Mycenae archeology no one ever visited. Whipping out the gloves he now carried 24/7 for just such emergencies, he spent a good part of his study time getting Rogue in a better mood with some busy handwork. Mission accomplished, she smoothed the frazzled peaks of his hair with a satisfied sigh, readjusted her belt, and flopped down on a sofa to start quizzing him on WWI history.
A few minutes to nine, Angel poked his head into the library and embarrassed them to death in front of everyone by announcing it was time for them to go to their rooms. Rogue and Wolverine made an ostentatiously loud departure from the scene, complete with slammed books, curses the students nearby giggled over, and a clinical discussion over whether Angel would lay eggs or have live young if he was ever lucky enough to get some.
After some deliberate pawing in front of their uncomfortable winged chaperone Rogue and Wolverine parted ways for the night, and the teen headed for his shower. A cold one was definitely in order. While teasing an entertaining variety of responses from Rogue he’d gotten all worked up, but there wasn’t a whole lot they could do about it in the library, as enticing an idea as that was. Wolverine was pretty sure the Professor wouldn’t overlook some ooey-blooey on the spines of his books at this point in time. And he hadn’t had time to grab a smoke, so the teen was irritated on top of horny.
He was just getting into a nice solid wank, the shower sprayer positioned just right, hips jerking in just the right tandem with his hand when an irritating beeping reached his ears. He tried to ignore it, but it came back again louder and more grating than before. He tried to push it out of his mind and focus on the fist furiously working his cock when it sounded again, this time with a shrill that made him wince. Recognizing defeat as his dong gave up the ghost and flopped in his grip, he snarled and unleashed the claws, shredding the shower curtain as he stalked from the bathroom.
“Goddamnit!” The noise had stopped. He looked around, sniffed the air, nothing.
Turning back to the bathroom Wolverine decided to give it the old college try and attempt to beat his frustration out on his meat one more time. Just as he stepped on the tile the noise sounded again. He jumped a foot in the air in surprise, slipped in a puddle of water on landing, went ass over tea kettle, and bashed his head spectacularly on the counter. Not bothering to wipe the blood away, he pounced back into his room, tracking the sound. A-ha, it was coming from the bed. He flipped the mattress over and tore at the sheets, finally discovering the infernal device tucked into his pillowcase.
It was a weird shiny X-looking thing. He sniffed then started back in annoyance as it screamed again, vibrating in his hand. He squeezed it and the top slid back with a click.
For fucking fuck’s sake. It was a phone.
“What?!” he barked into the X.
“That’s a hell of a greeting, sugar,” drawled that familiar voice.
“Oh, hey, how do you have this number?” Stupid, stupid but it was all he could think of.
“God you’re thick, who do you think got it for you?” Rogue laughed. “Had Zerker pick it up in town with some of our winnings.”
“That’s mighty nice, darlin’, but we just talked in the hallway.” Wolverine had never had any use for these contraptions; if he wanted to talk to someone he’d just fucking go find them and talk. Plus, he didn’t like the idea of people being able to reach him at all hours.
“Tired of me already?” she mocked. “What took you so long to answer?”
“Was in the shower,” he growled, feeling his forehead for the bloody cut now healed.
“Naked?” Rogue’s voice perked up.
“No, in my clothes. Of course naked!”
“Hmm, that’s something I’d like to see,” she purred.
Ok, maybe there was something to these devices after all. The pervs who call 1-900 numbers can’t be completely wrong about phone sex. “Would you now?” he asked casually as he righted his mattress and flicked a sheet back on the bed then laid down on it.
“Hmm-hmm. I bet I got something you’d like to see too.”
“Girl, it ain’t smart to tease a wild animal,” he gruffly into the phone and the sultry laugh that sounded back to the line to him stirred his previously declared dead Johnson back to half-life. There was a loud beep right in his ear that made him jerk the phone away. “What the hell? It just made a noise. Piece of shit battery dying already?”
“Nah sugar, just hit the center button, scroll to photos, then hit center again. You got mail,” Rogue whispered.
He followed her instructions and became an instant convert to the cell phone nation in that moment. He would slice the head of anyone who ever touched his phone because there was no way he was ever going to let anyone see THAT except him. “Holy shit darlin’, that’s one for the spank bank!” he breathed and happily embraced his now revitalized woody.
“That what bank?!” she cackled in his ear.
“The…spank…bank.” Silence. “C’mon, don’t make me explain it,” he whined.
“You tell me what it is,” the voice in his ear murmured, “and I’ll send you another one.”
“Good god woman, alright, it’s what I’m going to jerk off to later! Happy?” God, he was embarrassed…and horny. Was it possible to be both so badly at the same time? Apparently.
“Why later? Why not right now?”
Christ, that was an excellent idea. “Gonna have to hang up then, darlin’.”
“You only have to use one hand, Wolverine,” she reminded him.
“Not so, smarty pants. One on me and one on the phone so I can see if I can figure out how to use the zoom and get a close-up of your-“
“Alright, alright,” she laughed. “Sweet dreams, sugar.”
“Nite darlin’. Thanks for the-“
“Oh don’t thank me yet, you haven’t seen the one I’m sending in just a second.” She hung up and sure enough another minute later the phone beeped again. Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick! Wolverine slept very well that night…after a while.
Tomorrow he’d learn how to text and figure out how to use the camera.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Just had to write this foofy short chappie for fun. More in the next day or two.
Chapter End Notes:
Fun garage time with Cyke next chapter!