Author's Chapter Notes:

Chapter 4 took us up to the end of the Rogue Cut of DOFP.  Now the story continues with what comes after.

 

 

fool's par·a·dise

noun:

1. a state of happiness based on a person's not knowing about or denying the existence of potential trouble.

 

I never saw it coming.

 

There was no moon the first night she came to my room.  I wonder now if she planned it that way. The darkness was like a soft film over everything...hazy and sensual...a veil, obscuring the unspoken line that had always lain between us.

She was using it as a shield, to soften the intensity of the moment, the intensity of my stare.  She couldn't hide the sound of her heart fluttering, though.  Not from me.  Parted lips and the quickening of breath; the scent of apprehension mixed with excitement and arousal; nervous swallow and the soft heat of flushed skin.  She thought the darkness would be some kind of buffer between us, but it only served to sharpen the senses and stir the animal.

The light of the lamp post shone through the curtains, spreading a faint glow over the room; barely enough to reveal a few lines and shadows to her eyes, but to my eyes, my senses, she was crystal clear.  Standing there in my doorway, wearing a thin cotton nightgown, that white stripe in her hair like a halo around her face...she looked like an angel.

She looks like an angel, lying naked beside me now.  Her warm, soft body curled up against mine, soaked in the intoxicating scent of us.

I lean down to kiss her shoulder.  So much beautiful, silky skin, just begging to be touched.  I never thought she would learn to control her skin.  I never thought that I would be the lucky bastard who would get to touch it every night like this.

Good things like this don't just happen to me.  Good things like her.  Or maybe, I realize, good things do happen, did happen to me once before; she happened to me once before, but I was too busy fucking it up last time around to see it.

I'm no genius like the Professor, but I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice.  I don't plan on fucking it up again.

I gotta admit, I never saw any of this coming, though.  Back in the old timeline or reality or whatever you want to call it, things were pretty bad.  The world was on the highway to hell, and mutants were on the bullet train to extinction.  When I agreed to let Kitty send me back in time to try and fix this clusterfuck we had found ourselves in, it was kind of a long shot.  I didn't know what I was going to wake up to when the new future took hold.

Lo and behold, I wake up, and it's good times, exactly like it was before the world went all to hell.  The whole gang is together thanks to yours truly, everybody's alive, and there are no sentinels.   Dang.  I don't want to brag, but I fixed that shit. 

Storm, Beast, Kitty, Colossus, Jean...it was even good to see Scott, if you can believe that one.  I'm all honing in on Jeanie like a tractor beam, because holy shit, she's alive and I didn't kill her, and I put my hand out to touch her face because I can't believe it's real, and then (insert record scratch here), Scooter appears out of nowhere and blocks me, the tightass.  I guess some things never change.

But surprisingly, I didn't mind.  I know it sounds crazy, but I was actually glad to see him.  Jeannie was alive, and I finally felt like some kind of weight had been lifted off my shoulders.  And now that the weight was gone, I could finally step back, and see things for what they were.

I'll always care for Jean...but what we had wasn't love.  Infatuation?  Maybe.  Affection?  Definitely.  But love?  I only have to feel Rogue in my arms to know the answer to that one.

I spent a lot of time barking up the wrong tree back in the day.  Flirting with a pretty redhead with long legs to prove something to myself, turned into flirting with her in front of her fiancé for kicks, turned into genuine affection, turned into obsessing over what I couldn't have, turned into killing her out of duty and mercy, turned into a haunting guilt that followed me everywhere, turned into years of holding vigil for a ghost.  And I thought that was love.

What the hell did I know?  Turns out, not a whole lot.  What's that they say?  Hindsight is 20/20, don't know what you got until it's gone and all that cliché bullshit you always hear?  Yeah, turns out you always hear those sayings for a reason.  I'm a walking billboard for those clichés.

I never thought I could feel more pain and guilt than when I had to kill Jean during the battle at Alcatraz, but I was wrong.  The worst was when the Professor and Magneto brought me home from Japan and I found out Rogue was gone.

Government bastards attacked the school with an army of special ops and a fleet of sentinels while the Professor was dead.  They never stood a chance.

When the Professor came back to life, he came back to a scattered team and a life of exile.  He used his telepathy to locate any survivors; that's how he found Storm, Colossus, Bobby, and Kitty.  But he never found Rogue.  She was gone.

I kept thinking, if only I had come back sooner.  If only I hadn't left in the first place.  She'd be alive, and we'd pick up where right where we left off, and I'd get to tell her...

I don't know why, but somehow I always thought that no matter far I wandered, I could come back and she'd be waiting there for me, with a big smile on her face and stars in her eyes, ready to welcome me home like she always did.

There was this unspoken, subconscious truth that I carried around with me everywhere.  No matter how bad things got, there was someone out there who knew me, inside and out; someone who literally had me in her head and knew every dark corner of my soul, and somehow, still cared about a bastard like me.  I carried that truth with me, even if it was buried so deep in my heart that I lost sight of it at times.

I remembered the last time I saw her, standing there in my doorway.  Watching me with hopeful eyes, waiting for me to say something.  Waiting for me to be the first to give her a hug after she took the cure.  Instead I barely looked at her.  I couldn't see past my own grief, and I wasn't equipped to deal with those hopeful eyes, wasn't ready to sort out this...thing that was between us, whatever it was.  If I had known that it was going to be the last time I would ever see her, I wouldn't have brushed her aside so easily like that.

Hindsight is 20/20.  Don't know what you got until it's gone.

I wrap my arm around Rogue's waist and pull her close to me, burying my face in her neck. Her scent is so sweet, and I memorize it like it could be the last time I'll ever get to hold her.  "I know what I've got now, baby," I whisper into her hair.

She stirs and softly mumbles in her sleep; her hand finds mine, fingers absently tracing the space between my knuckles for a moment before she drifts off.

I know what I've got now.

...

...

 

Scott is yammering on about our next mission, some kind of reconnaissance on the newly relocated FOH headquarters, but I'm not hearing a word of it, because I'm too busy watching Rogue chew on a pen while she takes notes.  She's sitting there, looking and smelling so luscious, tapping that pen on her sweet, pouty lips; everything in my field of vision blurs except for the direct line of sight to her mouth, which suddenly is magnified and crystal clear.  That little cupid's bow of her upper lip, calling to me.  The shine of her strawberry lip gloss.  Teeth biting her lower lip as she concentrates.  Then those teeth start nibbling on the tip of the pen and suddenly I have to shift in my chair to relieve some pressure.

As if she possesses some kind of sixth sense for my hardening cock, she stops nibbling and turns her face to look at me from across the room.  Her expression is completely unsuspecting at first, but then her eyes turn to molten chocolate because she realizes what I've been thinking, and something about those doe eyes changing from innocence to awareness and then desire turns my cock into a raging hard-on.  It's a good thing my lower half is covered by the conference table, or I'd be putting on quite a display for the team.

A little smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, and she turns her attention back to taking notes as if it's the most interesting thing in the world.  But damn it if she doesn't start nibbling on the fucking pen again.  And this time she darts that little pink tongue out to lick the tip, so discreetly yet suggestively that I have to suppress a groan.  She's going to pay for that one later.

Ten agonizing minutes later, and the meeting is finally over.  I'm going to corner her in the hallway, and in my lowest, huskiest voice demand to know just what she thinks she's playing at.  She'll look at me all innocent-like, but her answer will be saucy as hell.  A few more suggestive innuendoes, and I'll be fixing to drag her up to my room and--

"Suit up for the danger room, ten minutes sharp!" Scott barks before we can even stand up.

Dammit all to hell.  I stand up, about to tell Scott where he can stick his ten minutes, when Rogue comes sauntering past me.

"Well come on then, don't want to be late," she says in a honey sweet voice so low that only my ears could pick it up.  "And maybe you can show me some of your moves, Wolverine."  She throws a glance over her shoulder and I watch her walk out the door, swaying her hips all the way.  Hmm, maybe I do want to go to the danger room after all...

Every day it's been like that with me and Rogue.  Making eyes at each other; murmuring thinly disguised innuendoes and dirty little comments under our breath; just barely getting through a long day full of meetings and training and being all professional and whatnot.  Night time, though...at night, she comes to my room, and it's a whole different story.

Damn, I am one lucky man.  I have to pinch myself sometimes, because this new life with Rogue is almost too good to be true.

You know, when I first woke up after my little time traveling stint and staggered out of my room, I couldn't believe my eyes.  Rogue.  Alive.  It was like something out of a dream, seeing her step out into the hallway; a mirage, too good to be real.  She saw me and tilted her head with a little smile, before turning to walk away with Bobby.

I feel a hot spike of jealousy now just thinking about her with the Icicle; in that moment, though, I was just relieved and grateful.  She was ok.  She was ok, and for the first time in years, I didn't feel dead inside.

I remember her being with Bobby back in the old timeline, so I wasn't surprised to see her with him in the new one.  But it kind of pissed me off that the old Logan from the new timeline was just as much of a dumbass as I was in the old timeline.  Fuck, listen to me.  Thank God I only went back in time once, otherwise I'd go nuts just trying to keep it all straight.  Anyways, from what I can tell, old me of the new timeline was up to his/my usual dumb-assery before I woke up, chasing a certain pretty redhead with long legs, all the while letting my girl fall right into the arms of a damn popsicle.  Yeah, I'm the best there is at what I do, and apparently what I do is fuck things up with Rogue.

My first instinct was to spring the claws and tell popsicle boy to take a hike.  I traveled 50 years into the past and back again to get here, and nothing was going to stand in the way of my second chance to make things right with Rogue.

Nothing, except the thought that maybe...maybe she was already happy in this new life, and I would be messing that up for her.  That stopped me right in my tracks.

I'm a man who fights for what he wants; I'll fight anyone and anything that tries to take what's mine.  But I won't fight against her happiness.  I wasn't going to take that away from her, because I knew she deserved it, more than any of us.  So...I let her go.

I didn't want to, but I did it for her.  I took a step back, and I watched her live her life, and I didn't interfere.  What's that they say?  If you love something, set it free and all that bullshit?  Yeah, once again I was a walking, talking poster boy for yet another cliché. 

Thing is, though...I didn't do a very good job of setting her free.

I tried to stay away, I really did.  I tried not to stare at her every time she walked in the room.  Tried not to let my eyes linger, even though all I wanted to do was watch her move, and talk, and smile, and breathe.  Take in every little thing about her, every soft curve, every little quirk in her expression, all the nuances in her scent.  I tried to stay away...but I was starving for her. 

After everything that had happened, here she was, so close and yet so far away.  And every time I saw her with him, it was like a kick to my gut.  'Cause she didn't know it, but she was mine.

When we'd be doing our team exercises in the danger room, I'd find myself compelled to protect her, even though she was more than capable of taking care of herself, what with her extra strength and ability to fly.  I don't know where that came from, but it was hotter than hell to watch her kick ass and outperform everyone on the team.  Still, I couldn't stop myself from asking if she was ok every time she took a hit.  She would always say she was fine, but her expression said that she was oddly touched, and that just made it all the harder to keep my distance.

It wasn't long before she started catching me watching her.  She'd smile and casually look away, like maybe it was a coincidence that she just happened to look my way at the same time as I was glancing her way.  And I should have looked somewhere else at that point, should have willed myself to stop, but I couldn't.

She'd glance my way again, and I'd still be watching her.  Our eyes would lock for a moment.  And then a look would cross her face, almost like...uncertainty, mixed with...something I couldn't put my finger on.

I wanted to believe it was longing, because I missed that look so much.  I'm such a selfish bastard...but I missed knowing that she wanted me.

How many times did I see that look of longing on her face, and bask in the warmth of that adoration, but never return the sentiment?  How many times did I see that look in her eyes, and pretend there wasn't something between us because I was too much of a chicken shit to figure out what it was?

Now the tables were turned.  And I couldn't stand it.

I wanted what I wanted, screw the old 'loving something and setting it free and waiting for it to come back to you' bullshit.  I tried that, and it was killing me.

There were only two choices for me at this point: I could be a really selfish bastard and interfere with her life, hopefully breaking up her relationship with Bobby and making her mine like I should have years ago, or I could pack my bags and get away from there so that I couldn't interfere with her happy life.  One was the right thing to do, and other was about self preservation...though it was starting to become less and less clear which one was which.

I must have gone back and forth about it my mind a hundred times.  Went so far as to have my bag packed and waiting by the door every day for a week.  Even left the mansion a couple times...though I never made further than a hundred miles before the pull became so strong that I had to turn back.  I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn't.

And then one night, she came to my room, and she took the choice out of my hands.

I never saw it coming.  Standing there in my doorway, and God, she was wearing nothing but that gauzy little white nightgown.  Silvery stripes framing her face like a halo.  The scent of excitement and arousal clinging to her creamy, very exposed skin.  When had she learned to control it?  She still wore gloves and scarves all day, still covered every inch of her skin to protect the people around her.

She was either here to kill me, or to reveal a very big secret that she had been keeping from everyone.  I was hoping it was the latter, though at this point I would have gladly given myself over to whichever fate she chose for me.

I had been laying there on my bed, just staring at the ceiling in misery and wishing I could drink myself unconscious like everybody else in the world, when I sensed someone at my door.  Not knocking or anything, but just standing there.

Watching the door knob for any movement, I kept my body still, but slowly let out my claws.  Whoever was dumb enough to try to sneak up on the Wolverine in his sleep deserved the skewering he was about to receive.

And that's when a familiar scent floated into my room.  I sheathed my claws and stood up.  Rogue?  What the...what was she doing here?  Before I could fully process this turn of events, the latch clicked and the door slowly swung open.

And there she was.    

Without the moon it was almost pitch black, except for the faint light of the lamp post outside; but to my eyes, my senses, she was crystal clear.  So beautiful. 

We both stood there, looking at each other, not saying anything.  I could hear her heart beat, fluttering wildly in her chest.  For a moment, she looked like she was going to take a step forward, but then she hesitated and pulled back.

Every fiber of my being wanted to reach out and pull her to me.  To claim her as my own, right then and there; to give her everything I had, to ravage her and love her and show her that she was mine and no one else's.

Easy bub, I had to remind myself.  I didn't even know why she was there to see me.

Maybe it was something simple, like she just wanted to thank me for having her back at team practice.  Yeah, as if she needed me.  Still, she did seem touched that I showed concern for her, unlike Bobby, who was too busy helping Kitty hobble out of danger to notice that Rogue was under attack.

Maybe she had a fight with Bobby, and wanted a sympathetic ear and I was the only one up at that hour.  Wishful thinking and not very likely; she'd probably talk to that Jubilee girl before talking to me about her man problems.

Maybe she just had a normal question, like 'hey, do you have a pen I could borrow?' or something equally as mundane.  But who shows up at a man's door at that hour and lookin' like that, just to borrow a writing utensil?

My head was starting to spin with all kinds of maybes and what-ifs and plausible scenarios.  I stood there, rooted to the spot as I warred with myself.

"I..." She faltered, her mouth moving a little, but no more words came out.  She closed her eyes and swallowed, then opened them again.  "I shouldn't be here..." she whispered, taking a small step forward.

Fuck it.  Fuck Bobby, fuck deadly skin, fuck holding back, fuck everything.  My mind was made up at that moment, and I wasn't going to wait another minute.  I strode across the room to meet her, and cradling her face in my hands, took her mouth in a ravenous, searing kiss.

Her eyes grew wide at first, but then closed as she whimpered into my mouth.  Her lips parted and gave way to my tongue, allowing me to taste her unbearable sweetness, and I drank it in like a man dying of thirst in the desert.  Rogue.  Marie.

Her fingers dug into my sides, gripping the fabric of my wifebeater, and God, she started kissing me in return, matching my hungry exploration with an intense hunger of her own.  A small moan rose up in her throat as she pressed closer and her kiss grew in desperation.  Something inside me twisted, because I realized in that moment that it wasn't just me, giving in to my own desires and taking what I wanted from her.  She wanted me.  The realization nearly sent me into orbit. 

With a growl, I pulled her into my room and shut the door, pressing her against the wall and deepening our kiss.  Immediately her leg came up and wrapped around my hip, her hands gliding up my chest and curving behind my neck to pull me closer.  My hand slid down her thigh, palming the flesh of her ass as I continued to plunder her mouth.  Finally we drew apart, our breathing heavy and ragged. 

"You sure about this?" I rasped.

For a split second, something in her eyes made me think that she might change her mind.  Not now, darlin', not after all this time...If she walked away from me now, I was going to ask her to turn her skin on and just kill me right then and there, because there was no going back for me after this.

"Is it Bobby?" I asked, my gut sinking.

"No," she whispered.  She raised her face to mine, tilting ever so slightly; a silent gesture, asking to be kissed again.  Her mouth hovered just beneath mine, little puffs of air brushing across my lips as she breathed.  "There's no one else."  She lifted up on her toes and hungrily brought our lips together.

There's no one else.  Her words rung in my ears as I pulled her closer, devouring her with lips and teeth and tongue.  No one else.  Suddenly the need to claim her, to possess her, was stronger than anything I had ever felt in my life.  There can never be anyone but me.

"Mine," I growled into her neck as I sucked and nipped a path down to her collarbone.  Sweeping my thumbs over her nipples, I lowered my head down and put my mouth over one and began teasing the hardened peak with my tongue.

"Oh God," she panted, her hands lacing through my hair.

I could taste her through the thin film of cloth, and my mouth watered as I craved for more.  I dropped lower, lifting up the hem of her nightgown.  Starting at her navel, I began kissing my way down her belly; then lowered down to my knees.  I nuzzled, reverently, at the vee of her sex; my fingers curled over the edge of her panties, sliding them down past her knees and dropping them to the floor; then, looking up, I nudged her legs apart and kissed her clit.  I could feel her knees weakening as a little moan slipped out, the heady scent of her arousal thickening the air, and the beast inside howled and rattled its cage.  Standing up quickly, I cupped her ass firmly with both hands.

"Mine," I growled again, and she gasped as I lifted her up and wrapped her legs around my waist, carrying her over to the bed.  Though I had picked her up roughly, I lowered her gently to the bed, watching as her hair fanned out on the pillow.  I kissed her softly before slipping her arms from my neck and her legs from my waist.

I stood up to take off my clothes, then kneeled between her legs again.  Slowly, I released a single claw.  She sucked in a small breath.

"Trust me," I murmured.  "I won't hurt you."  She nodded, and I lifted the hem of her nightgown, slowly, carefully cutting the fabric, while she watched with hooded eyes and bit her lip.  The fabric fell to her sides, and she shivered, her body laid bare to me.  So beautiful.

I leaned down and kissed her navel; then soft swell of her hip bone, and the other.  Then the petal-soft skin of her inner thighs.  Her ripe, luscious scent was driving me crazy, making my brain fog and my head spin with anticipation and desire.  I had to taste her.

She arched her back and gasped in pleasure with the first stroke of my tongue, and I was lost.  Lost in the warm, honey-sweet and salty taste of her bursting on my tongue; lost in the soft moans that fell from her lips; lost in the complete bliss of coming home to my Marie.

She gripped the sheets, her breath hitching and the movement of her hips becoming erratic, and I held her down firmly, increasing the pace and relentlessly driving her to the edge.  Within moments she cried out, her head thrown back.  Her mouth hung open in wordless ecstasy, while I reveled in the sensation of her coming in my mouth.  She was still riding out the waves of her orgasm when I couldn't take it any more; I had to be inside her.

I rose up and thrust into her, burying myself deeply.  Her fingers immediately dug into my back as our eyes locked, and God...I swear the earth moved.  Everything I was, every second I had lived up until this point...they were nothing.  I was simultaneously shattered and made whole in this one moment.  Marie...

I felt her body soften as she came down from her orgasm, and I began thrusting again in a slow, deep rhythm.  Her hands came up to my chest, stroking the hair and then gliding over my shoulders and arms.  The look in her eyes...it was like she knew me, and yet...she was seeing me for the first time.  Maybe it was like that for the both of us.

I leaned down to kiss her, tenderly at first, our mouths moving in rhythm to the same cadence as our hips.  The slow burn quickly began to blaze out of control, our kisses becoming hungry, demanding.  Her hands gripped my back, gliding down to grasp my hips and ass, urging me on.  I drove into her forcefully then, grinding into her as deeply as I could.   I could feel the tension building, winding tighter and tighter like a coil, until it snapped and we were both thrown headlong into an explosive climax.

Her screams were muffled as she turned her head and bit into my arm.  The sensation almost sent me into overload, a million synapses firing off in my brain and the animal inside roaring to the forefront.  Did she know what she was doing?  Did she know what that bite would mean to a feral like me?  Before I could stop myself, I came down and sunk my teeth firmly into the tendon of her neck, continuing to drive into her, staking my claim.  She gasped and cried out, but in pleasure, not pain, and the animal howled in triumph.

When the last pulses of our orgasms were spent, I kissed her softly once more, then we collapsed onto our sides, boneless and sated.  Rogue fell asleep within moments, curled into my side.  And for the first time in 50 years, I slept without nightmares.  For the first time in my life, I felt like I had found home.

 

Chapter End Notes:

We could end the story right here and everything would be great, wouldn't it?  But the course of true love never did run smooth, and there is more to Logan and Rogue's story before it's all said and done.  Sorry not sorry.  :)

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