The sound of heavy panting and a faint buzzing whir was clear to Logan long before he reached the metal doors that opened into the gym used by the X-Men when all they wanted was exercise, not combat training. Located in the sub-levels of Professor Xavier's compound, it was usually empty, especially at Logan's preferred time of ass-crack-of-dawn. Unfortunately he had been asked to fix the garbage disposal just as he was about to get into the elevator to go down and work out. Since it is Not Good for the disposal to be broken in a house—or mansion—containing more than fifty people, Logan had accepted the inevitable. Thus he was two hours late for his workout, which apparently meant he was going to have to share. He just hoped it wasn't someone really annoying in there, like Scott or Remy, especially when his mood couldn't possibly be considered “good” at that point.

“Arrrgh...God, Jubes!” That voice, all honeyed southern drawl, stopped Logan in his tracks. He stared incredulously at the door to the gym.

“C'mon, Rogue! You're almost...uh...there!” The other voice, usually far too fast and high for his preferences, was lower and breathy. Logan inched forward and then stopped as Marie's voice reached his sensitive ears once more.

“Uh...uh...Jubes, honey...it's just too much!” Logan's eyes widened further. Just then he felt a presence beside him. He reached out and caught the Cajun's arm before he could open the gym door and interrupt...whatever was going on. He slapped his free hand over Remy's mouth to muffle the other man's yelp. Remy struggled, but only until the voices, now easily heard through the door, started up again.

“Uh...uh...aaaarrrrghh! God, Jubes, I'm not finishing this without you! You're almost there, babe, almost there!” that husky voice shouted.

Logan felt like his jeans shrank instantly at that point, they were so tight in the crotch. The strange mechanical buzzing sound definitely didn't help.

“Roguey! I...uuuhhh...can't! Please, I...uuhh...can't!”

“You're...uuuhhh...there, babe! Just...a...little...uuuhhh...mooooooore!”

“ARRRRRGGGGHHHH!” Jubilee yelled. Marie echoed her.

All was quiet except for that damn buzz, which slowed and then abruptly stopped. Logan held his breath. Remy's eyes were wide as well, and Logan could smell the arousal starting to emanate from him. Then Logan heard a thud.

“My God, Jubes, why are we doing this?”

“Fine asses, chica, fine asses. Ours...” Yeah, that sounded about right. “...and theirs.”

Huh? Now Logan was confused, and he could tell that Remy was, too. Maybe...?

“I swear, Jubes, I wonder if it's even worth it sometimes. Yeah, we look shit hot in all that skin-tight black leather, but what's the point? It's not like some hard-headed idiots ever get it, you know? I can shake my ass in leather all day long, right in front of his face, and he never even tries to cop a feel!”

Now Logan's brain was starting to clear from the strange haze of desire, and he felt a little awkward. Did they always do this girl talk shit after...? And what was with Marie saying she'd been shaking her ass in some guy's face? Logan shot a glare at Remy who, as one of the single guys in the mansion, was a reasonable candidate for said ass-shaking.

“It's not so bad, Roguey, really. I've seen the way his eyes glaze over after you do that, even if he won't admit it because he's too damn stubborn. Trust me, he notices. C'mon, it's abs time. Gotta keep these sexy stomachs flat somehow, right?”

Logan heard Marie growl, kind of like he did whenever he was truly annoyed. He heard the sound of bodies slapping onto plastic-coated canvas—the mats.

“What the hell is the point of perfect abs, Jubes? Look at mine! All sculpted muscles and smooth, newly-touchable skin—here, feel.”

“Beautiful, Rogue. Your abs are so hot.”

“Yeah, yours are gorgeous, too. So why is it that the two of us, pretty much sex goddesses, can't get two stupid, idiotic mother fuckers to stand up and take notice?” Oh, the frustration in her voice!

Logan wondered if the man she was talking about was really that blind. He was certainly up and noticing at that point, the young women's words reminding him of the many incredibly sexy attributes he'd been noticing on Marie of late. He also noticed that Remy's attention was still completely fixed on the conversation. Logan glared, silently promising to gut the Cajun if he was Marie's “idiot.”

Jubilee laughed. She still sounded winded. “You know, chica, maybe we're wrong about the leather.” Her tone had turned thoughtful. Logan wanted to shake his head like Remy was, but he manfully restrained—just.

“Hmmm...it's a point, babe. So what do you think we should do?”

God. Women actually discussed these things. They planned. He now had proof! And a witness! Too bad he couldn't record this, just for posterity's sake, of course.

“I'm thinking exact opposite of skin-tight leather, Roguey.” Logan could almost see the evil sparkle in her eyes, the one that always made him a little scared.

“You mean parade bare assed in front of them and hope they finally get the hint when hit with the Hint Sledgehammer?” Marie's voice held none of the shock he would have imagined her feeling at the idea of parading in front of anyone nude. She was all angry sarcasm.

Jubilee's shout of laughter was more energetic this time. “Not quite, chica. I'm thinking string bikinis for the pool today. You know, the ones we bought last week. I know we'll look damn fine in those little black scraps, and if they don't notice us at that point...I will give us both permission to never look at those damned ellipticals or these stupid weights and mats again because it really would be totally useless at that point.”

Damn. Ellipticals explained the odd sounds and how out of breath they were. It also would explain most of their comments, he supposed, although he wanted to pout because he had liked his original theory in way too many ways he shouldn't have.

“We could get fat!” Marie's voice held an alarming amount of relish at that concept, and it distracted Logan from his disappointment in learning about the ellipticals. Almost.

“Nah, not so fast! We have more dignity than that, right? If they don't succumb to the string bikinis, we just find two amazingly hot guys—not from here, mind you, because we wouldn't want to bring in that kind of attention, but I know a place—anyway, two mind-fuckingly hot guys, and we proceed to hang all over them and forget our sorrows in their sweat-slicked, rippling muscles and stamina that could last for hours...hmmm...”

“Jubes, quit drooling on the mat. Although that does sound like a good back-up plan. I admit that I'm so sexually frustrated that Mr. Happy is in no way doing it for me in anymore. It really sucks when not even a world-class expensive-as-all-hell dildo can't get you off, you know?”

“Yeah, I know, chica. I know.”

Alright, in Logan's head he knew that Marie was twenty-one and could have as many sex toys as she damned well pleased, but he never thought he would hear about them. And he definitely didn't like that Remy was hearing about them, either. His glare at the Cajun got a whole new level of darker.

“I swear, though, that I'm pretty close to the breaking point on this one, babe. If he doesn't get his hairy ass in gear soon, I just might have to take drastic measures, mostly involving the hand-cuffs and cat o'nine tails I bought during that last shopping trip. Did I mention that I am horny?”

Wait—hairy? HANK?! And hand-cuffs and...Logan barely suppressed his growl of rage at this one by imagining what Marie would look like if he used said-handcuffs to chain her to her bed...naked...hmm...

“Preaching to the choir, Rogue. Although, you know, I'd pay good money to see that, chica, especially if you let me take a picture of Logan's face if it got that far!”

At that point Logan's jaw dropped. He knew it, and knew that Remy was staring at him now with a mixture of disappointment and totally disproportionate amusement. He was pretty sure his brain was both frozen and a raging inferno of possibilities. Then Marie spoke up again.

“You've got a deal, Jubes. And if Remy doesn't get the hint after seeing you in that delicious little bikini, I'll help you set up the same thing with him. We can do a photo shoot.” Her voice dripped with sexually deprived malice.

Now it was Remy's turn to look shell-shocked, and Logan might have laughed if his brain had still been functioning. Meanwhile, the two women were laughing darkly at Marie's last statement.

“Hell, Rogue, once we had 'em tied up like that we could do more than a photo shoot. We could make a fucking porno! Imagine it. The two of them tied side by side to one of the king-sized guest beds, naked and at our mercy for once, the fuckers, and us 'disciplining' them! Oh, the whole thing's so delicious I almost want to do it anyway!”

“Let's see how the pool experiment works, Jubes. Then, if we have to, we'll get tough.” Peals of laughter might have belied Marie's words if they had sounded sweet, which they didn't.

“I wonder how long it'll take you to make Logan a gibbering puddle at your feet in that outfit, chica. I'm betting five minutes.”

“Oh, I'm tired of playing games, Jubes. I'm giving him thirty seconds.” Logan could imagine the evil smile on Marie's face as she said this, and he had to swallow hard.

“Hmmm...well, I'm all stretched out. Time to shower and then hit the pool, right?”

“Sure thing. They won't know what hit 'em.”

Logan was very thankful to whomever designed the layout of the gym so that the door to the showers was on the opposite wall from the main doors. He still felt rooted to the spot.

A thought fought its way through to the forefront of his scrambled brain.

Marie wanted his attention. That was fine. He was more than ready to give it to her!

Rogue was pissed, and when Rogue got pissed, people tended to stay out of her way. It wasn't that she was physically violent towards innocent parties, although she sometimes threw a few punches during the right kind of fights outside of combat practice. It wasn't that she yelled—she actually rarely did, and then you knew you were in for it. Maybe it was the look in her eyes or the smirk that curled her lips even though it was obvious she was angry. Maybe it was just a vibe that radiated off of her that Bad Things Were About To Happen or Careful Or I'll Sear You With My Pinky Finger. Whatever the reason, only a few people were brave enough to approach Rogue when she was like that.

So when Rogue stepped out of her room wearing nothing but a few tiny triangles of black cloth, a sheer green wrap around her waist, and a come-and-get-it gleam in the dark eyes smoldering over that smirk, those wise enough to want to live made mental notes to stay out of her way for the rest of the day. When Jubilee joined her in the hall dressed in a matching bikini topped with a yellow wrap and sheer determination in the set of her chin, the halls quickly emptied. Those who caught sight of the smile the two women shared before they started downstairs knew that they had definite goals in mind, goals that might get someone in trouble or seriously injured by the end of it, and they gladly shared what they saw with anyone they encountered as they made their way to the rooms of those students whose rooms (and thus windows) faced the pool. Such students saw a drastic increase in visitors as many scrambled to get good views of whatever was about to go down.

The observers watched as Rogue and Jubilee approached the mostly-deserted pool area, chose loungers side by side and laid them flat, then paused for a moment of intense discussion. Each woman then untied her wrap, spread it over her preferred lounger, and laid down on top. Appreciative viewers noticed how, once settled, their backs were arched slightly, legs stretched out a few inches apart with one knee bent just so, hair spilled across the colorful backdrops their wraps had become. It was very apparent that the friends were waiting for something—but what?

The small groups in each room decided to set up sentries to watch for any movement by the pool while the rest got up to normal summer weekend mischief. After several false alarms, the real show began when Logan and Remy, definitely an odd pair, stalked out to the pool area. There was no other way to describe it. They, too, obviously had a purpose. Logan was wearing only a pair of jeans that rode almost indecently low on his hips, while Remy was similarly shirtless but in swimming trunks. Since they made a beeline for the supposedly oblivious duo glistening with suntan oil and sweat by the pool, the observers knew that the game was on.

---

Rogue let herself lay back and relax as much as the tension coursing through her body allowed. Eyes closed, smirk barely visible, she knew she looked hot. Hell, she looked sensational, a living, breathing advertisement for SEX. So was Jubilee. Hadn't most of the men and boys they'd passed leaving the mansion confirmed that with their hungry, if wary, eyes? Only she hadn't seen the specific pair that she was looking for, or Jubilee's desired pair, which only served to bring the annoyance factor up a notch. There she was, all laid out and tasty-looking, but he wasn't around to appreciate it. Typical. It was always either his stubborn oblivion or his absence that managed to raise her hackles the highest.

“How long do you think this is going to take, chica?” Jubilee's patience had never been epic.

“Settle, babe. They'll hear, and they'll come out to play. They're that type,” Rogue reassured her. She knew it was true, too. Both men were alphas, needing to be dominant in all things, which is why they rarely got along.

Rogue turned her concentration back to the scents around her. Sometimes she could still access that part of Logan's mutation, even though it had been more than two years since the last time she had been injured badly enough to allow him to touch her so that she could absorb his healing abilities. It required focus to gain those enhanced senses again, however dimly, so she rarely bothered. They were downwind of all the approaches from the mansion, though, so it was worth it to try. Rogue did her best to control her focus, and within minutes she was rewarded. That unique blend of his very male scent, cigar smoke and motor oil filled her nostrils, causing them to flare briefly, delicately. She restrained the wicked smile that wanted to break free. Instead, she quietly hummed a bar or two of Jubilee's favorite song. That was the tip off that at least Logan was nearby.

“Good morning, mes beautés,” came a cheerful greeting in a New Orleans accent Rogue always thought was a little too thick. Was it her imagination, or did Logan growl warningly. Hmmm...So, Remy and Logan were approaching, apparently together. She wasn't sure what to make of that since the two men weren't exactly friends, but it was too late to worry about it.

Allowing her head to tilt up so that she wouldn't receive the full glare of the overhead sun, Rogue cracked one eye partly open. Then she allowed both eyes to widen in appreciation, making sure to keep her gaze firmly on Logan although she smugly noticed that both men were shirtless. All the better for their plan.

Watching Logan draw closer wasn't exactly a difficult thing to do, all told, especially with the way her sadly undersexed brain wanted to keep staring at that tanned expanse of flesh, muscle, and thick dark hair that he called a chest. It was a chest she'd often itched to touch, especially now that she could without killing him.

Raising herself up until she rested on one elbow, her body turned toward him and practically begging to be stroked, Rogue smiled lazily. She knew without looking that Jubilee was performing a similar, but not identical maneuver in the direction of Remy, who had completely bypassed Rogue, probably a good idea from the way Logan was looking at her. Rogue was proud of Jubilee and herself. They had practiced these moves, and there were definite signs that they were working.

Rogue's “Hey, Logan,” was a few seconds ahead of Jubilee's “Hi, Remy.”

Rogue allowed her gaze to finally travel up Logan's chest to his face, and what she saw there made her breath catch for a moment before she managed to remember how to breathe. His eyes traveled up and down her body, taking in the blatantly uncovered curves and hollows, the wonderful golden color she'd managed to acquire in the months since she gained control of her mutation. Rogue wanted to preen more, but she stopped herself just in time. She was getting what she wanted, after all, and there was no need to clue him in on just how much effort was being put into this show. As long as the ends justified the means...and there was no way the mind behind those hot eyes was thinking anything remotely like platonic thoughts. A small part of her own mind jumped up and down in a happy dance, but she was pretty sure she was able to hide all that, even from those knowing eyes. Logan's smirk appeared, so she sent him one right back, just this side of a leer.

“Hey, darlin',” his voice was gruff but filled with the same heat that smoldered in his eyes as they wandered down her body again, more slowly this time. Rogue was pretty sure she had forgotten how to breathe by the time his gaze met hers again.

Yes, when he crouched down beside her and brushed a strand of white hair off of her shoulder before trailing one knuckle over her collarbone and down the curve of her breast, she definitely was not breathing. Oh, no. No time for sophistication, no time for seduction. Just a quick punch to the gut and the incredibly strong urge to grab him and go somewhere private right now. Or not even go anywhere, just grab him, throw him down, and demand that he make her scream his name until she was hoarse.

Somewhere between her eyes crossing from lust-filled thoughts and his chuckle, Rogue remembered to inhale oxygen. It was close, though. Very close.

She put that new-found oxygen to good use before she forgot again, especially with Logan right there, inches away with all that wonderful skin... “So, do you have any plans today, Logan?”

He leaned forward until his lips were just grazing her ear. Yes, definite eye-crossing again. “The only plans I have, Marie, involve, you, me, and a bed. All. Day. Long.”

Breathing would be good. Being able to see straight would be good. Then again, she could just let Logan pull her to her feet, wrap forgotten, Jubilee and Remy forgotten. After that she could let him lead her back inside. Oh, yeah, she could do that.

---

The older students had their hands over the eyes of the younger, more impressionable ones by the time Logan and Rogue ended their show and headed back into the mansion. Of course, Jubilee and Remy were still out there, one still reclined seductively, the other whispering in her ear and dropping kisses onto waiting lips. By the time they followed the other couple in, some of the students had definitely broadened their educational horizons. No one was brave enough, however, to leave the safety of their groups until they heard two doors firmly shutting within minutes of each other. Hopefully, the four would never realize that their entire public seduction scene had been avidly watched by a majority of the student body.

'Cause then there would be hell to pay, and no one wanted to face six adamantium claws, deadly skin, exploding fireballs and exploding playing cards all at once. No, siree.

She would swear until her dying day that she didn't hear anything, see anything, or smell anything. She did not poke her head out of her door just a little to see what the noise in the hall was. She minded her own business, turned in the opposite direction as that intriguing noise, and kept walking until she reached the other end of the house. Eventually, she was even able to convince herself that that was really what happened—at least sometimes.

Then again, Jean was never very good at lying to herself.

At first she thought she was hallucinating, maybe due to the extreme heat of the day and despite the air conditioning. After all, on any normal day around the mansion you would not run the risk of seeing a shirtless Logan and a bikini-clad Rogue making out in the hallway. You would not see them break apart and then move, arms wrapped around each other's waists, disappearing into his room. You also would not see him look at her with a mixture of tenderness and no-holds-barred lust as he closed the door. After her initial shock, Jean began to worry that they might be operating under the influence of too much alcohol. Granted, it was a little early in the day by her standards, but it was also a Saturday and time of day had never stopped either Logan or Rogue before. Since the amount of alcohol they would have to consume to have them acting like lovers instead of best friends would probably fill the building to the rafters, Jean felt she should check. That would be a lot of alcohol, and would probably put Rogue, at least, close to alcohol poisoning. So she crept forward a few steps, as quietly as possible, and sniffed. The only scent she was able to make out was suntan lotion. No alcohol fumes. So what was going on?

Wait. That was a giggle. Granted, it wasn't the sound of complete inebriation she had expected, but could it be an indication that Rogue, at least, wasn't in her right mind in this new development? Should she save them from themselves before it was too late?

“Sugar, I liked that bathing suit!” Rogue was squealing from behind Logan's door. Jean's eyes widened. That was quick! Granted, her bikini hadn't consisted of much material, but still...!

Jean felt she really should leave, go...somewhere. Where, she wasn't sure. Just not where she was, rooted to the floor outside of Logan's room, listening to the most astonishing thing since St. John and Bobby came out as a couple.

“Darlin', you and I both know you didn't buy that thing to swim in it. If a couple quick tugs could break those strings, there's no way they would last in water.” Logan's voice was rough, and Jean was left with a mental image she'd really rather not have.

“Mmmmmm.”

At least Rogue wasn't trying to deny anything there.

“Oh, God, Logan...ummm...yeah, right there, sugar...oooooh, oooh that feels...gooooood...please, Logan, please! Mmmm, YES!”

Jean knew she should move. Now. Only her feet seemed to disagree, and really, where else was she going to get some entertainment like this with Scott away on a trip with the Professor?

“You like that, Marie?”

Jean had always thought Logan's growl was a little sexy, but damn, that one was a whole new level. And Marie? What was with that?

“Just about as much as you're gonna enjoy this, sugar.”

Rogue's voice was pure sin. Then Jean heard the rasp of a zipper and really, really knew she should move. Dammit, really, feet, get going! There! Ha! One inch!

“Oh, yeah, baby...Marie, just...God, that's good...how did you...shit, Marie, your tongue...just like that, baby, just like...fuck yes!”

God, had Logan just...?

“Mmm, you taste so good, Logan. Let's get on over to the bed now, sugar...”

Yeah, guess he did.

“Fuck the bed, darlin'!” There was one soft thud, followed by another.

“Yeah, sugar, the floor works, too.” A low laughed echoed out in the hall, followed by a growl that made Jean's knees weak.

She no longer tried to move even though there was no reason for her to stay, no alcohol-induced insanity for her to stop before it broke up one of the closest friendships on the team. They obviously knew what they were doing...Why did she just lean against the wall and listen to the moans and sighs and murmurs, the sound of flesh hitting flesh for only God knew how long, arms crossed and wrapped around her waist? Was it just shock? Temporary insanity? How much of this would she deny later? And when the hell was Scott going to get home?

Then the moans turned to cries, shrieks, and Jean's head snapped back up in surprise. Wow, was this what she had to look forward to for the rest of her life, living next to these two if...

“Yes, yes, please, Logan...oh, my God yes! Right fucking there! YES!”

“MARIE!”

Apparently, Logan wasn't the talker of the two at the end. Jean just wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing for her future.

A few more low murmurs, then, “You know, sugar, I think your healing factor has to be one of my favorite things about you right now!”

Oh, no! Were they going to go at it again? Jean somehow found her feet again, confirmed that her knees weren't as wobbly as she feared, and then practically ran the few steps back to her room. She was sitting on her bed still trying to get over what she had heard when she realized something.

Logan and Rogue's first time together might have only been audible to her while she stood out in the hall, but their second time was so loud the entire mansion probably heard. Hell, Scott and the Professor probably heard it in Washington D.C.!

It was two-thirty in the morning, and all Bobby Drake could think about was getting a glass of water to take upstairs to his room. The cab had just dropped him off. He was weaving just a little as he walked, and the headache building behind his eyes was a warning of what he could expect if he didn't get water, aspirin and bed in that order. Next time he went into the city to visit John, he was not, under any circumstances, going to drink so much. Nope.

As Bobby neared the kitchen, he heard voices. He hoped they were real voices and not an indication of his current state.

“So, you heard me and Jubilee in the gym this morning, and you thought what, sugar?”

Bobby recognized the slightly stunned voice of Rogue. Okay, probably not in his head then.

“Well, you two were panting and grunting...what else was I supposed to think?”

Bobby's forward motion came to a screeching halt at that one. Logan...what had he heard? What was going on? Did he think Rogue and Jubilee were having sex? Bobby might have laughed if his head hadn't hurt so much.

“I can't believe...wait. You left after that, right?”

“Nope. Remy showed up, though.”

“Oh.” A short pause, during which Bobby debated his need for that glass of water. “Oh, my God!”

That didn't sound like a happy Rogue. No, that sounded like an I'm-so-embarrassed-you-might-be-able-to-start-a-fire-on-my-face Rogue.

“If it makes you feel any better, I definitely agree that you're a sex goddess. Especially after the last five times.”

Wow. Oh, wow. Rogue and Logan? Bobby wondered if he wasn't really having an incredibly strange drunken dream after all. First Rogue and Jubilee, now Rogue and Logan?

“Logan!”

“And for your information, I do not want you to leave off the leather any time soon. Skin-tight black looks hot on you, baby.”

“Really?” Now Rogue's voice was syrupy-sweet, and Bobby heard rustling and...was that a zipper?

“Oh, yeah. But the bikini was pretty good, too. I'll get you a replacement.”

Was it Bobby's imagination, or did Logan just purr? Hell, this was probably all some sort of sick product of his imagination...right?

“Promise sugar?” More rustling.

“Hell, yeah!”

Bobby did not want to know. He turned around quickly, which made the dark hallway spin a little wildly. Once it was mostly settled, he moved as far away as he could from the moans and sighs behind him. He would just figure out another way to take the damn aspirin. Anything other than going in the kitchen.

Trudging up the stairs to the teachers' wing, he decided to stop by Jubilee's room and see if she had a spare glass, since he knew she was a night owl. If she was asleep already, it wasn't likely that it would have been for long. Bobby made sure to count the doors as he stumbled down the hall. Jubilee was fourth on the right. One, two, three...there! Just as he was about to knock, Bobby heard something. He bit back a groan when he realized what it was.

“Holy shit, Remy, that feels...oh, wow!”

“Chere like, yes?”

“Oooh, yeah...chere definitely likes!”

Bobby glared at the door for a moment. Stupid Cajun. Stupid Jubilee. Fuck the aspirin. He'd rather have a hangover than deal with the sex lives of his friends at this point. Bobby sighed and headed towards his own door, sixth on the left. Just as he passed the fifth door on the left he heard something that made him feel like banging his head on the wall because, shit, couldn't he just get a break?

“Yes, Scott, YES!”

That was it. He was going to move into the city. Maybe John would like a roommate.