Sometimes, when he gave it more thought, it actually perplexed him.

How did he become this man?

He used to be the kind of guy who, if he wanted something, took it. No thinking. No long, boring monologues with his stunted conscience. And any regrets were saved for after, then brushed away with a ‘shit happens’ kind of mentality.

He was still that kind of guy when he’d realised that he’d started seeing Rogue a little differently then he was used to, when ‘cute kid’ became ‘pretty girl.’ Which somewhere along the line morphed into thoughts of how she would act if she was the kind of girl he normally picked up. The kind of girl who would take a stranger home and let him come in her with nothing in-between. The kind of girl who wouldn’t get offended when he told her to fuck off the next morning because she knew that this was how it worked.

If it bothered him, thoughts like these, about the kid he’d saved, even nearly died for; he refused to give it much thought.

As he’d said. He was that kind of guy.

And since he was that kind of guy, he cornered her one day, not even hours after entertaining thoughts of her being that kind of girl, and pushed her up against the wall of her room. Hauling her up and fixing her legs around his waist before she could even so much as finish her gasp of surprise.

“Logan?” she had asked him breathlessly, frowning in confusion then inhaling sharply in shock when he pressed his erection against her, testing if he actually wanted this. Seemed like he did. “Logan?” she repeated again, voice lower then a whisper, shiny, glossed up lips making him wonder if their lips would stick together if he kissed her.

He grinned, rather liking that thought, and yanked her head down. Tongue came out to taste that rather luscious looking shine, only to grimace when he came away with something that smelled like cherries but tasted nothing like them. “Jesus, what the hell is that crap?”

Rogue looked too flustered to even think let alone answer him, she whimpered, her legs trembling around his waist, and tugged him back. The back of her palm coming up to smear as much of the lip gloss off, most of it just dragged over her cheek, leaving a sticky line of red. Then her lips descended on him again, mouth pillow soft against his own, moving without rhythm, without aim, until Logan picked a speed and taught her how.

He pulled back; mouth and one side of his cheek streaked with smudges of red, and grinned at her. Yep, he wanted this. Used one hand to haul her skirt up her waist, the rather cute one that threatened to reach her ankle in a green that made her cream coloured skin glow. Her breathing hitched, she gripped tightly onto his upper arm, “wait. Wait.”

He groaned into the skin of her neck, mouth suckling at it, smirking when it left a pink patch she‘d have to hide somehow from her friends, “no. No waiting.” He wasn’t good at waiting. Wasn’t good at being denied. “Trust me. This’ll be so fucking good baby.”

She stiffened. “Is that what this is?” she asked curiously. Not upset, just curious. Okay, maybe a little upset, Logan had known about her crush on him for a while.

“Yeah,” he replied, wanting to get this straight. He didn’t do relationships. Wouldn’t do relationships. And it was best if she knew that before this happened; so that she didn’t build up too much hope, start dreaming about love, marriage and fat squalling babies. “Just a bit of harmless fun between two consenting adults … Nothing wrong with that.” Grinded against her just in case she was thinking of changing her mind.

She hesitated.

Logan pressed kisses from her neck to her collarbone.

She watched him. Eyes narrowed in thought. Weighing her options.

Logan bent his head, jostled her up higher on his hip and reached down to snake his tongue over that pert nubbin that was taunting him from under her top. Let go of the tight grip on her waist to tug at her blouse, pulling it low enough on one shoulder to expose her bra to his eyes. Grinned up at her winningly, daring her to say no to him, and yanked the cup of her bra down too.

Her breast. Pretty. Natural. And heaving up and down, began to tremor in the wet, dark heat of his mouth. Then quivered around the demanding pace of his tongue. “Fun right?” he asked, letting her nipple slide out from between his lips, needing to make this clear because his conscience was beginning to twinge a little after all, remembering the girl who’d cried on his shoulder once upon a time. The one he’d promised to look after, the one he‘d watched walk away to get the cure, the word ‘friend‘ still lingering in the air.

Her face, flushed and almost as red as her lip-gloss, was already beginning to get a little sweaty. And Logan didn’t need super senses to know that her body was emitting another wetness too, one that he’d have a hell of a challenge getting out of his head if she said no to him now.

She gulped, eyes still wide with disbelief and nodded. Logan grinned smugly, reached down to twist her underwear to one side, because no matter how much he pretended she was this kind of girl, his imagination didn’t stretch far enough to be able to fuck her through her knickers, because she was the kind of girl who wore them after all.

Their first time was up against her bedroom wall with her bed mere feet away, him, swearing into her hair as he pumped into that heat of hers, her, scrabbling at his back, trying to find purchase, and finally, him, pulling out, coming against her stomach with a satisfied moan. Then her, fidgeting awkwardly, watching him with the kind of eyes he didn’t want on him.

He chuckled, helped her down and tucked himself back inside. “Fun right?” he repeated again teasingly.

She smiled, nodded, and watched him harder.

He cleared his throat nervously, feeling another pang from his conscience. Feeling a punch from that inner voice of his, the one who tended to speak when he was about to step right into a pile of shit he would rather avoid, telling him to make it clear, once again, that this didn’t mean anything. In fact, it was just a one-time thing, so trivial really, that she didn’t have to go blabbing to anyone. “So … thanks. I better go. Uh Rogue?” Rogue because Marie would have been too intimate right now, would have given her the wrong impressions. Hopefully she understood. “You do … understand, don’t you?”

She frowned, nodded. “Yeah. It’s okay Logan … I do.”

He smiled, relieved. Resisted the urge to ruffle her hair and walked out of the room.

There. Done. Urge satisfied.


X


Which wouldn’t explain why he went to her room again. Shaking her awake because he’d had a daydream about how hot it would be to actually see the rest of her. He hadn’t actually gotten a glimpse of anything more then one breast, a bit of collarbone and the tops of her thighs the first time, and it was killing him.

“Hey, hey, wake up,” he urged, shaking her softly, then a little harder.

She groaned, tried to wriggle back under the covers but finally emerged looking bleary eyed and tousled looking. “Logan?” she asked, voice low enough to do funny things to his dick. “What is it?”

He grinned, leaned forward and kissed her, letting that answer for him. Pressed her back down on the bed and slowly stripped her off her nightgown. Savouring the sight of two well-sized mounds resting in his palms, and the glistening fold of skin between her thighs. “I thought-” she began, forehead furrowing even as she arched and lost her words as he twisted himself inside her. Setting a rhythm that made them both speechless, made them too busy with staring at the way their bodies responded to each other to waste it on words. On thoughts.

He was off her bed as soon as it was over.

Didn’t want to give her the wrong impression after all, and that voice was back, telling him that he shouldn’t have gone back to her at all, that she would now expect things, and that if he did have to take then he should have done it on the floor, not on her bed. “Mar- Rogue,” he corrected quickly, “you understand right?”

She was still struggling for air, breasts heaving up and down so enticingly that Logan wanted to pop them into his mouth again, make them redder then her cherry lip-gloss. She nodded, head bent away from him as she cleaned up his come off her thigh with a tissue, “I understand.”

He sighed, motioned towards the door awkwardly. “Well I … I uh …”

She nodded again, reaching for another tissue. “Yep, see you tomorrow.”

He started in alarm, “what?” See, that voice was telling him, she now has expectations.

Rogue looked up at him, wet tissue in one hand, a half smile on her face, “we live in the same house Logan. I didn’t mean it that way.”


X

He watched her carefully the next day. To see if she was acting differently around him, staring too long, trying to sit next to him, attempting to make awkward conversation. But she didn’t. Not at all.

In fact, the only time she ever looked at him was when she noticed that he was watching her, and then she’d look away.

Not fast, not slow, just casually look away.

And the only time she talked to him was to tell him that the kid he was supposed to give one-on-one training to was down in the Med Lab with a sprained ankle.

Which was when he remembered that he should have been down there, in the Danger Room waiting for the boy, instead of watching Rogue.

X


That night he stood outside her room, waiting for her to finish eating dinner and make her way upstairs.

“Logan?” she asked, either actually confused to why he was here or pretending really well. “What is it? Did you need something?”

The inner voice was hitting him with a metaphorical two-by-four now. Yelling that one time was most definitely nothing, twice could be a mistake, but three times … well, that would be giving her ideas, and he didn’t want to do that.

Thing is, he’d had this thought about how he hadn’t tasted her. Hadn’t lapped at her skin after she was panting, limp and sated, hadn’t felt the tang of her sweat explode on his tongue. Hadn’t chased that tang down her chest, off her nipples, around her bellybutton and into the beginning-to-become-familiar heat inside her.

And god, it was driving him crazy.

“Can I - can I come in?” he stuttered.

She frowned, reached past him, which made him gulp at how close her hand was, and opened the door.

He was inside before she could change her mind.

This time he urged her towards the bed, even though the desk was much closer, this time he bit his lip, watching each emotion swirl in her face, watching to see whether she liked what he was doing with his fingers. “Is that … is that good?” he asked softly, resisting the urge to push inside of her right the fuck now, wanting to make her see stars first.

She whimpered, head twisting on the bed, thighs clamping around his fingers, “uh huh,” she mumbled from dry lips.

“Can I … taste you?” he asked again, gulping at the thought, scared she would say no.

Her chest heaved, she stared up at him in surprise - which made him want to back-pedal, she nodded. Which made him forget all about back-pedalling.

He made her see stars all right.

X

“Hey Rogue,” he called out, sliding into the seat opposite her, banging the plate of food down on the table.

Rogue glanced up, surprised to see him there, cup of coffee half way to her mouth, “hey. Morning.”

He grunted, smiled and picked up his fork. Looked away from her too in-depth gaze to study the other people that were in the room.

That twerp she had dated some years back was sitting at a table on the edge of the room with his wife. “I don’t know what you saw in him?” he asked her confusedly.

Rogue frowned, followed his glare back to the Drakes. “Who Bobby? … Why?”

He flushed, shrugged, “nothing. Ignore that.” Continued eating in order to keep his mouth shut.

Rogue chuckled, making him redden further and look at her warily. “God, she really likes you huh?”

“What?” Drake’s wife liked him?

“Emma. She - haven’t you noticed?”

Logan turned and looked at Emma, who was indeed staring at him like he had chunks of her favourite ice cream covering strategic places. “Why? Does it bother you?” he asked with a half-serious grin.

She chuckled, “what? Why would it do that? Because of -” she paused, not mentioning it - not mentioning them, which kind of pissed him off. “Actually I think she’d be good for you.”

What?

Rogue nodded, lost in thought as she looked back at Emma then studied him, “yep. A strong woman like her is just what you need.”

“I don’t like strong women,” he shot back, annoyed.

Rogue winced, wrinkled her nose and managed a barely there smile.

“Shit - I - I didn’t mean it like that,” Logan stuttered, apologising, reaching out to grasp her hand.

“You sure have a way with words Logan,” Rogue replied, accepting his apology easily. “Which is why she’d be perfect for you. She’s telepathic; she’d know what you’re really trying to say, under all that crassness.”

“Would you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to set me up with someone else!”

Rogue paused, cleared her throat carefully and set her cup down. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have meddled-”

“No, Jesus, for god’s sake, I didn’t mean it like that!” Does that mean she can meddle? “Just … uh. I can find my own bed mates M- Rogue. You don’t need to play pimp.”


X


When Emma propositioned him later that day, he accepted. He let her lead him back to her room and pushed her onto her bed. Took in her writhing form with its smeared lipstick bucking underneath him and wondered why it felt wrong.

It was good, god it was good. Older, more experienced Emma was far better then two-boyfriends-under-her-belt Rogue. Knew far more tricks then her too, knew exactly how to move against him as soon as he set the pace. But at the back of his mind, his conscience was re-awakening. And it was that conscience that made him get up off the musky smelling bed, jerk on his clothes and apologise to the tearful telepath.

“You do understand right?” he asked her, unable to look at her for too long. Feeling like a bastard for not making this clear to her before it had happened.

Emma didn’t understand. And she made it very clear too.

X

“IsleptwithEmma,” he rushed out before he lost his nerve.

Rogue, busy reading in a quiet corner, jumped at the sudden intrusion. “What? I didn’t catch that.”

Oh Jesus. “I slept - with Emma.”

She blinked, “oh …” stared down at her book again. Pupils unmoving. “Okay.”

“But - but it didn’t mean anything,” he added quickly. “And it’s not going to happen again.”

She turned a page. Pupils still not moving. “Maybe you should let it mean something. You might like her if you give her a chance. She’s a lot like you.”

“I don’t want it to mean anything.”

She turned another page, too quick for her to have read the previous one. “Okay. Your life. Just don’t regret it when you find out that she’s moved on with someone else.”

His breath caught in his throat, “someone else?”

She nodded.

“Is there … someone else?” he asked carefully, eyes large, mouth dry.

She frowned, head tilting to one side, “not right now, but a pretty girl like that … there will be. Soon. So if you are going to change your mind about her I would advise you do so quickly. Before she learns how to not like you anymore.”

And wasn’t that a scary thought?

“Done. Mind changed. Mind fucking changed Marie,” he shot back quickly.

Her calm countenance shimmered for a split second and then she was back to looking like nothing bothered her. “That’s good. And - quick. Go find her then.”

“… I treated her like shit. What if she doesn’t want me back?”

“Just tell her you’re sorry, tell her you won’t do it again. Tell her you l- love her.”

He swallowed, inched closer. “Will it work? Will that do it?”

She smiled, turned another page, “I’ve never seen you so humble Logan, yes, it’ll work. Go on. Don’t make her wait any longer.”

“I won’t.” Logan fell to his knees, clasped her round the waist and buried his face into her stomach. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. And I love you Marie.” Then he added his own ending. “Love me back, please?”

She did.