The next few days were alright, but Wolverine wouldn’t jinx himself by admitting it out loud. The guys came over and they had a couple of good pick-up games, 3-on-3 until a couple of Institute geeks wanted to get in on the action then they went to 5-on-5 full court with Wolverine, Zerker, Lanche, Pyro, and Silver on one team and the rest of the freaks on the other. Colossus would have made a good center, but he was slow and fouled even when he didn’t mean to because he was so damn strong. Kurt, the blue demon kid, could play two positions at once by teleporting back and forth and catch his own passes. Cannonball was okay at dunks when he burst off from the ground, but he overshot the basket more often than he sunk one. Rogue played with that team, covered chin to toes in another wicked skin suit, this one red, oohhhhh yeh red, and gloves. She was pretty good, but fussed at how her gloves interfered with getting a good grip on the ball.
Wolverine resisted the urge to crack the requisite ball handling joke he was dying to make and waited. Sure enough Pyro opened his mouth which resulted in Rogue inbounding her pass right into his nuts. The game stopped while everyone collapsed into hysterics at Pyro’s “FUCK! ARRRRRGGGGGG!!!” The classics never got old.
Things at school were almost boring, as Cyke and Jean had been relegated to the front row of first period and his masterpiece of desk pornography had been removed from the room, so all he had was a blank slate to work his artistic magic on once he found the right inspiration. Language Arts was a snore until they started reading “Something Wicked this Way Comes” then for probably the first time in his life Wolverine actually paid attention in class. It must’ve freaked his teacher out because she seemed completely stunned when he’d raised his hand and asked about the symbolism of the tattooed man. It took her a good fifteen seconds to raise her jaw long enough to answer him.
Several heads swiveled around to stare at him. Who knew the Wolverine gave a shit about school? He shrugged, then put his head back down and pretended to go back to sleep. But really he was listening to the discussion going on around him. He was always looking for a new book to add to his little collection and the darkness of this one was appealing. Math was boring as always, although he did teach Quicksilver how to calculate the correct geometric angels to allow him to ricochet a rubber band off a book positioned just so, then a desk, and still zing Pyro in the back of the head.
Lunch was spent with the guys, slouching against the gym wall like it was their job. They were occasionally joined by a couple of girls, like Zerker’s normal squeeze, Quicksilver’s sister Scarlet, who thankfully was not blessed with a motormouth, and that slick looking Asian chick who wore too much yellow and appeared to have taken a shine to Pyro. Wolverine chased Polaris off after two days because she started clinging to him, fucking annoying.
One day Rogue showed up on her bike and joined them for a smoke. She was bored studying online at the Institute, Xavier’s insistence for hers' and others’ safety, but at least he let come and go as she pleased during the day as long as she got all her work done.
Zerker was passing around a fifth of Glen Fiddich, Mr. Big Bucks boozer since he’d cashed in after the fight and got a homeless guy to buy him enough alcohol to get them all shitty for a month. Good man.
The Institute boys were regaling the Brotherhood House inmates with a blow-by-blow and exaggerated retelling of the boxing match turned massacre. Wolverine and Rogue didn’t bother to correct them, it was too damn funny to hear it all over again especially with the embellishments. Apparently Wolverine had slashed her open with his claws before healing her, and then she put him in a chokehold between her thighs.
Well, that idea had merit, he thought to himself as he watched Rogue laugh. He was into the girl, way into her.
He leaned against her bike and watched her slug the hooch like it was water. After the bottle was done and they were all adequately tipsy enough to make it through the rest of the school day, Rogue walked over to her bike. Wuh-oh, look out. Wolverine caught her as she tripped and almost fell into him.
“Whoops!” she laughed as she grabbed his leather jacket for balance. “Seems I might be a bit drunk.”
“A bit,” Wolverine grinned. “I’ll drive ya back, no point in crashing a nice bike.” He slung one leg over the saddle and jerked his head at her.
“Well, aren’t you sweet. And here I thought you were worried about me,” she huffed playfully.
“Fuck that, you can take care of yourself. C’mon, get a leg over.” Oh yeh, get those legs over here, girl. He kicked started the engine as soon as he felt her thighs settle behind him and her arms wrap around his waist. Al-fucking-right.
He didn’t even bother to tell her to hang on, she knew what to do. Boy did she. Wolverine was loving the feel of those gloved hands slid around him, one on his waist and other higher on his chest. Focus dumbass, if you smear her all over the road that’ll be that. He corrected his turn and avoided slamming them into a car as he turned left onto the road off grounds. He jammed the throttle wide open and they tore away from the school, laughing at their stolen freedom.
“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for skipping?” she yelled in his ear over the wind whipping past them.
“Probably!” One a scale of behavioral issues that could get him in serious trouble, skipping class ranked so low on the scale as to barely register. What he was thinking, however, would probably get him bounced right to the federal pen if Xavier had been close enough to hear his thoughts.
She cat-called at his response and flung her head back in laughter as he revved the bike up to 60, her ebony and silver hair streaming behind her like a dark banner as he raced over the blacktop until the white lines blurred.
They spent the afternoon sitting by a lake on the far side of Xavier’s property talking about all sorts of shit. Normal kid stuff, music: movies, books they liked. She’d read Something Wicked a few months ago and had some cool ideas to share. He showed her how tough his claws were, because she asked, and chopped down a tree with them. Took a few minutes and made his hands hurt for a bit, but it was worth it when she whistled appreciatively. He asked her about other powers she’d absorbed and she was entertaining him with the time she had iced the downstairs corridor by accident after slapping Iceman for being a dick. The other kids had a grand old time slipping and sliding to dinner while she got chewed up one side and down the other by Xavier for touching a student bare-handed.
“As if I meant to do it, like I wanted that tool in my head,” she snorted disdainfully. “I was just going to get a soda from the machine for like 2 seconds so why put my gloves on just to go down the hall?” Wolverine nodded in agreement, so unfair. He just wanted to watch her lips keep moving, they were kinda pouty and he liked they way one corner lifted in a sneer when she talked about people she didn’t like. She was just expounding on what a fuckhead Iceman was when the sound of “Two Joints” by Sublime startled them both.
“Oh, hang on.” Rogue dug into her pocket and fished out a cell phone. She flipped it open, then sighed at the name on the caller ID. She hit the reject button and flipped it shut but not quickly enough for Wolverine to miss the name on the screen.
“So, who’s Victor?” he asked in what he hoped was a casual voice.
She pulled a face, “Just some guy.”
“Shaggy from the other night?” he prodded. Don’t sound too interested, man. If she drops it, then you drop it. Got all the time in the world to wrangle her away from Vicky.
“Yeh, Victor used to live at BH, played offensive lineman at the school, but he split last year. We used to date.” She opened her phone again and turned it off. Wolverine kept the urge to do a little dance firmly in check.
“Used to? So what’s up with sneaking off with him the other night?” Slow, slooooooooow down dude, don’t start grilling her, you might not like the answers.
She sighed and leaned back, not answering, and laced her hands behind her head and closed her eyes. He appreciated the view from above; he could look all his fill now and not worry if she saw him staring. She’d unzipped her riding jacket and he could see the faded Pantera shirt she wore underneath, the neck ripped away from repeated washings, a bright green bra strap peeking through that he had an urge to pop.
He watched her breasts rise and fall with her breathing and thought that look like a damn good place to put his face for a taste or maybe just his head for a nap. She had nice long legs, really shapely and snugged real fine in those dark jeans. Biking boots with steel toes had been kicked off, and he was amused to see her nails were painted lime green and she had a cute little ring on one toe. His eyes swept up again, taking in the shiny wave of her black hair and one of those curious streaks that lay across her cheek and tickled her eyelashes, making her scrunch her nose at the sensation. One corner of her black lipsticked mouth quirked up as the silver hair brushed over her lips.
Without thinking he reached over and stroked it away with the tip of his finger. She opened one eye and looked up at him. “You should be more careful. I can hurt you.”
“Meh, I could hurt you too,” he said dismissively. A slight smile crooked the corner of her mouth, and she closed her eyes again.
“Sooooo…this Victor…” he trailed off, back again to the burning question at the front of his mind, subtlety be damned.
“He wants me to give him…us…another shot.” She eyes stayed closed but a small frown tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“You gonna?” He tried to stay cool, relaxed, unfazed but he wasn’t at all.
Rogue sat up, her eyes lashed over at him and one of her eyebrows ticked up. “Why do you care?” She was teasing him! She knew, crap. Guess he wasn’t as cool as he thought, but she made it damn difficult to act disinterested.
Too late to fake it now, he supposed, so he did what he usually did and took the chance, a little nervous despite the lessening risk he’d sensed over the last few days with her increasing interest. Wolverine leaned over a little and twirled another one of her streaks around his fingers and tugged. “I don’t,” he said with a smirk.
“Liar,” she murmured, her eyes glinting with mischief and something a bit more.
Hell yeh, now there was that teasing little spike in her scent he’d been looking for since he’d first laid eyes on her. “Yup.” He leaned smoothly into last couple of inches to her face and kissed her swiftly, but with confidence, and teased her lower lip with his tongue for a moment before pulling back to assess the results. No burn, no sting, just a wave of something that flowed through him for a moment and took his breath away and his stomach started doing some crazy jumping. And she was looking pretty damn spectacular this close up. Those dark eyes rimmed with liner were deep and heated, zapping his senses to life like a shot of espresso.
“Brave boy, that could have fucked you up if I wasn’t wearing lipstick,” she playfully scolded, but she didn’t move away.
“Maybe I got a death wish,” he growled. Christ, she was making him hot, that sexy little Southern twang and those killer eyes and even more deadly lips would probably be worth some pain…ok most definitely worth a LOT of pain.
She moved a little nearer and he felt her gloved hand push open his jacket to rest on his chest, but she wasn’t pushing him away but fisted her hand in his t-shirt and pulled him closer. “You better hold real still, or you aren’t going to be awake to enjoy it,” she warned. He stilled but kept his eyes open as she kissed him again, this time taking charge. She bit his lower lip and he made a weird noise he wasn't familiar with, a funky rumble that started in his chest. When she slicked her lips across his again he parted his mouth and snaked his tongue out to tangle with hers, earning him a sweet little noise in the back of her throat.
Ouch. He winced, but didn’t pull away, she tasted too fucking good. He sucked on her tongue and tasted the booze and smoke. His favorite flavors along with a taste of…ok, that kinda hurt. Ow. OOOWWWWWW! FUCK!
The both pulled back, gasping for air. “Told you to hold still, your nose touched me.” She wrinkled hers at him again.
He flopped down on his back on the grass and was thrilled when she sank next to him and snuck her face to his shoulder like that particular spot had her name on it. “Totally worth it!” he said, unable to keep the shit-eating grin off his face or out of his voice.
“You’re good for my ego, Wolverine,” she laughed and he joined her, in no hurry at the moment, just enjoying the feel of her head against his chest, his hand on her hip. She said she could hear his heartbeat then giggled when it sped up. That throaty laugh was slow and sweet as molasses; he could almost taste it on his own tongue.
Usually, as soon as a chick had showed interest in him he’d do everything in his power to ran through all the bases as quickly as possible and slide right into home and in between her legs without too much preliminary bullshit. But he didn’t feel like hurrying at the moment, Rogue seemed to be totally chill with him, so he would take his time. That was a first for sure. He figured trying to get a leg over on a girl with skin that could knock him on his ass if he tried to cop feel would need some additional thought…and preparation…and some jerk off fantasies while he planned. Heh, this anticipation thing might not be all bad. Having Rogue snuggled against his chest with one of her legs thrown over his was pretty fucking awesome.
All was good for a moment in Wolverine’s world.
Except for, grr. He had to ask, didn’t want to because it might fuck a perfectly nice sensation she was drawing out of him as her fingers teased his chest through his shirt. But the image of her with her hand in that blonde motherfucker’s was gnawing at his gut. If had to put a name to it, it could have been jealousy, but the Wolverine didn’t get jealous. Maybe it was just upset stomach or some shit, he hadn’t had lunch. What was he thinking about? Oh yeh…crap.
“Uh…so…this Victor guy.”
“Yeh,” she sighed. No, no, sighing bad. Very bad. Do not like bad sighs. “Guess I’ll tell him to forget it.” She lifted her head and grinned at him, then winked. Christ! He was about to have probably his first every TALK with a girl, which was practically causing him an ulcer, and she was fucking with him!
“You little-“and Wolverine dug his fingers into her sides. She screamed with laughter. Ah ha ticklish! Time to be evil. She squirmed in a serpentine fashion against him as she tried to get away, but he just crushed her to him. Wiggling good, wiggling very good. So was her panting like that. Hell yeeeeeehhhh.
After he’d extracted a scream of submission from Rogue he repaid her with a rough kiss, thrusting his tongue in her mouth that made her moan and grab his hair. She made him dizzy in a couple of ways, all new and right fucking on. They spent the rest of the day, until well after the sun went down, curled around each other and talking shit about any and everything and a bunch of nothing. They missed dinner, but Rogue managed to wheedle a few sandwiches from the cook, which they scarfed down on the patio before she told him goodnight because she had to go study in the library. Wolverine let her go, although he had to cram down the urge to follow her and corner her up against a remote stack.
Stalking wasn’t sexy, he reminded himself.
He walked through the mansion, hands crammed in his pockets, as he made a distinct effort to keep a smirk off his face. He popped his head into the rec room to say hi to Lanche and Zerker who were cursing loudly at a basketball game on tv. They invited him to join them, but he made an excuse to go to his room.
No fooling those fuckers, he knew it when he heard their distinct sniggering as walked away and speculations about what he and Rogue had been up to when they’d ridden away on her bike earlier that day. He shrugged. Nothing those bozos said could ruffle him.
Whatever. He was cool, frosty, Mr. Sub-zero.
He was fucking whistling. He hoped no one heard.
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