It was late in the evening and she'd treated herself to a long, hot bath. Perhaps if she stayed in the tub for a few days, some of her anxiety would cease. The tension between Victor and Logan was worse than ever, and she'd caught them exchanging one arrogant comment after the other. She tried to just do her job and not think about either of them, but it was impossible. Victor glared at Logan constantly, the anger rolling off him in waves; Logan was withdrawn and tense, and she felt like a knotted coil whenever the three of them were forced to be close together. They were a ticking time bomb right at the heart of the mansion, and Rogue had no idea how to diffuse it.
Stepping out of the bathroom, Rogue put on a short nightgown and opened the door to her balcony. The evening was warm, letting in a soft breeze that should be relaxing. She knew Logan was withdrawn because of everything that happened between them, but it was Victor's behavior she couldn't understand. And how much longer was she going to have to put up with it? What the hell was his problem? She wanted to confront him about it but didn't dare. He'd probably only lash out at her or say something humiliating because Victor didn't practice fair play. And you do Rogue?
She muted that last thought into a quiet buzz. No, Victor was making her nervous. He was avoiding her too now. No leers, no sideway glances, not so much as a single lewd remark or even a gesture. He hadn't even acknowledged her presence when they'd passed each other in the mansion hallway or cafeteria. The big difference between him avoiding her and Logan avoiding her though — Creed was dangerous. A pissed of Victor Creed could wreak all kinds of havoc.
Rogue sighed. Sure she should probably feel bad about it all, but - distinct noises made her snap out of her internal monologue.
There were sounds coming from somewhere outdoors. Sounds she shouldn’t be hearing. It couldn't be ... but it was. She recognized the unmistakable sounds of people having sex. But just outside her balcony? Judging by the sound level they had to be close, too close obviously. Careful not to give herself away, Rogue snuck out on her balcony to see if she could track the ones responsible for disturbing the peace.
Rogue's hearing hadn't failed her, but she wasn't sure if she was imagining things or not. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide. A level down and several rooms away, lived Victor. He was out on his balcony too, and he wasn't alone. Pressed up against him was some woman - a blonde - and from where Rogue stood frozen to the spot, it was plain to see her teammate was keeping himself busy. Judging by the loud moans coming from the blonde, Victor seemed to be fucking the living daylights out of her. It was like a live porno. Hell, from what she looked like, Rogue thought it might be Jenna Jameson herself getting the special treatment from Victor Creed!
She shouldn't give a damn - if he wanted to fuck some trashy bimbo with fake tits the size of watermelons then he had every right. It was just that ... he was doing it on purpose! The bastard was trying to set her off, he had to be; she was sure of it. But on the other hand he seemed to be enjoying himself too, pounding hard and fast into the blonde until she began to moan repeatedly. This was just too much.
Rogue chewed at her lip. She hated that it bothered her like this. It wasn't as though she'd expected Creed to practice celibacy - no it wasn't like that at all. Well how was it then? Okay, first of all it was a generally accepted rule at the mansion - a school none the less - that fucking outdoors for the whole world to see was not okay. It was far from okay Rogue thought, as she heard herself gasp. The blonde had moved down to her knees in front of Victor, sucking him off. It brought back some of Rogue's own memories; what it had felt like doing what that tramp was doing. She should just get back inside and close the door because if he saw her, he'd somehow turn it against her. He was probably doing it just to spite her, but he'd twist it around on her, thinking she'd be jealous. Well she was not jealous!
Victor picked that moment to let Rogue know he saw her. Even from a distance she could tell he was pleased at her stunned reaction, everything about him screamed arrogance. He didn't give a damn that she'd caught him in the act with some nameless woman. Rogue wasn't sure if she should feel embarrassed or angry or ... she was not jealous! The Victor in her head mocked her and as if on cue, the real Victor grinned at her. But it wasn't his usual smirk; there was nothing teasing or taunting about it. He was angry. Angry and glaring at her while the blonde was keeping herself busy. Now the Victor in her head was snarling and snapping, wanting her to see and hoping that it hurt like hell.
Rogue hurried inside, slamming her door and locking it.
*************
The days drug by at a snail's pace. Only once since the…incident, had she been faced with both Logan and Victor, during a battle simulation, and the awkwardness was palpable. Even Bobby, who usually made it a point not to be alone with her, took her aside afterwards and asked if everything was okay. She was off her game and she knew it. Her mind was a million other places besides their training and she knew she was going to have to shake it off or lose any chance of proving herself capable. Once she'd assured Bobby she was fine, just tired, he'd let the matter go.
She was far from fine. Creed was pissed and obviously wanted her to know it, but more than anything, she missed Logan. He had always been a part of her life and now there was an empty space where he should be. On top of that, she had Victor to deal with. He hadn't confronted her about that night on the balcony; actually, he still wasn't speaking at all. It was like a massive, dark vacuum wherever he stood.
Outside of training, the three of them managed to avoid seeing each other. Rogue spent a lot of her time away from the mansion or holed up in Jubilee's room, just in case anyone decided to pop in to her room again. Before their next squad practice, Rogue gave herself a pep talk about focusing on the task at hand. All other issues would have to wait. It worked too.
Only one time did Rogue falter; when she saw Logan studying her intently while she laid out their strategy. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought she saw longing, even an apology in his eyes. Maybe he missed her too? As for Victor, he wouldn't look at her at all. She shouldn't care. She didn't care. He'd turned her out and then made it clear what he thought of her.
That was fine. It's not like she was looking for his approval or understanding; as if he was even capable of those emotions. Sometimes it did hurt just a little and she didn't understand why. Why should she care what Victor Creed did in his spare time or that he was mad and wouldn't look at her? On top of dealing with Logan’s rejection, it bothered her a little. Normally, she wouldn't care at all; of this she was certain.
Once everyone had cleared out of the Danger Room, Rogue made her way to the locker room. Her days of using those team showers were over unless it was an absolute necessity, but she still had to collect her things from the locker and change as soon as possible. The leather uniform was wet with sweat and it clung uncomfortably. Shuffling her way across the tiles, her mind went back to Logan. His rejection of her advances hurt, but more than anything, she just wanted *him* back. The past week had taught her something once the pain had faded a little. If all she could have from Logan was his friendship, then she'd take it. She used to think she couldn't stand to just be his buddy and nothing more. Now she knew she couldn't stand not having some part of him in her life. They couldn't live around each other and just ignore the other’s existence. He had to feel the loss too. How were they going to clean up this mess? How could she let him know that she wanted to try?
Opening her locker, Rogue found a flat, white package with a plain paper note sitting on top of her clothes. She looked around nervously. The team locker room set her on edge now, but there was no one around. Flipping open the note, it read "sorry" and nothing more.
It had to be from Logan. He was the only one that ever gave her gifts like this and he was the only one with a reason to apologize. It was touching that he was even saying 'I'm sorry' first because he wasn't the only one with something to be sorry about. She looked at the gift guiltily for a moment, before removing the top. Digging through a layer of tissue, she blushed deeply at what she found. Nestled in the box was a pair of delicate, white lace panties held together with satin ribbons on the sides. The color and material hinted at being demure, but the cut along with the tiny ribbons were more naughty than nice.
Rogue's eyes widened as her blush grew deeper. What in the world was he thinking with a gift like this? Well...she knew what he must be thinking, but what did it mean? He was making a sly reference to her peep show, which now seemed like ages ago, but was he just playing with her? She set the small package down in her locker. No, Logan wouldn't be that cruel.
She sensed him as he came up behind her. Swiftly closing the locker, Rogue spun around to face him. Logan hadn't changed out of his uniform either. It looked like he'd been waiting since they finished for her to find the gift. He was staring at her like he wanted to see inside her mind. For a moment she couldn't decide if she should smile or cry now that they were face to face. Logan's eyes looked as though they held that same ache.
Her eyes couldn't look away from his, even though it hurt.
"Hey," her voice cracked.
"Hey," he said, quieter than normal. "I wanted to talk to you. Alone."
"Yeah...I’m glad…Logan I'm sorry," she blurted out.
Relief showed on his face. "Me too."
Rogue wanted so badly to reach out to him, so she tucked her hands behind her back. "We've been here before - with the sorry."
"Yeah."
His eyes looked tired now, like he was fighting some long battle - and losing.
"What are you sorry for?" Her question came out a whisper.
"Lots of things," he said flatly. "I know I've been a jackass lately, but...I miss you. And I don't miss anyone, ever. This not being able to talk to you or you not talking to me - maybe it's selfish, but I don't give a shit - I don't like...this." He paused, mulling over his confession.
"What are you sorry for?" he asked after a deep breath.
Her hands were back in front of her now, clinging to each in her nervousness.
"Those things too," she answered. Thinking of the gift inside her locker, "And I wish I hadn’t kicked you out the other night." It just came out without warning and Rogue looked up at him, unsure and uneasy about his response.
Logan saw the need in her eyes again, but it wasn't only lust. She needed him; needed to know that they were going to be okay. He needed the same thing.
Almost reflexively, he reached out and stroked her hair. Control be damned, he thought; he wanted her to know that he was sorry. He just needed to make it right, but before either of them realized it, they were in an embrace. Comforting each other for what they'd done, Rogue ducked her head and found herself rubbing Logan's leather clad back while his hands clasped her shoulders, then the back of her neck. Immediately her heart raced even though she resented how easily he affected her. His breathing became rougher and it felt warm on her face, but she couldn't raise her eyes to his again. The grip on her neck tightened, encouraging her to look at him.
She took a shallow breath. If she looked up, what would she see? To open up and hope again, only for him to shut down on her would be devastating. Rogue couldn't do it. She couldn't put herself out there like that and hope to see her want reflected in his eyes. Then she felt lips, warm and soft, caressing her cheek, searching for her mouth. Relaxing into him, she let it happen.
"I’m so sorry," he said against her skin.
Her head jerked back like she'd been slapped. "Don't. Don't do this just because you're sorry," she said in anguish. If this was only a way to make amends, she didn't want it.
"No!" he insisted and Rogue hoped it was the truth. He brushed her damp hair back and continued touching her, running his hands over her hair, her arms, her back - like he couldn't believe she was really there. Rogue wasn't sure what she saw in his eyes but it wasn't just regret.
"No," he whispered again.
It was as if he was trying to decide something, and she got the distinct impression that he was looking to her for help. He was searching her eyes for an answer. Unsure of the question, Rogue's hands moved over him, in reassurance and in need. Even through the leather, she could feel the hills and planes of his muscular back. Her hands took on a life of their own, moving around to his chest and pressing into him. She refused to be the one to take the reins, but she couldn't help touching him, wanting to feel him against her. Rogue looked up at him thinking exactly that. It seemed to be all the encouragement he needed.
Logan's mouth caught hers. She let him lead, needed him to, and as she opened to him the kiss grew deeper. Logan wanted this too, she thought. If their separation had brought this on, then maybe it was all worth it, but she prayed that his boundaries wouldn't go flying up again. His kiss felt divine, like warm silk against her tongue, and Rogue wanted more, needed to be closer. Fumbling with his uniform's zipper, she slid it down to his collar bone. She wanted to taste him and moved her lips to where his pulse beat so strong against his neck. He was salty and hot, and Logan moaned lowly as she licked his skin. All thought of resistance, of standing her ground, were gone. There was only her and Logan and this moment when there were no lines.
He sought her lips again. His tongue was seeking, stroking every part of her mouth and lighting a fire that she could feel through her entire body. Logan's hand slid down to her hip to move her closer then crept up to brush the curve of her breast. Rogue almost whimpered into his mouth. She wanted his hands on her, now. With urgency, she moved to unzip her uniform; the layers of leather between them were too much. He watched as if amazed at her initiative.
"You sure?"
Rogue shot him a look and continued to struggle with the zipper. Impatiently, Logan grabbed the zipper from her, jerking it down past her navel.
His mouth was on her skin then, her neck, and her ears. When he kissed the curve of her cleavage, Rogue fought not to cry out. Then Logan's hands were squeezing her, molding her breasts through her bra. She was so close to the edge from only his touch.
"Oh God," she heard herself murmur.
Logan's eyes were heavy and dark when Rogue grabbed his hand, moving it between her thighs. It would take so little right now, she thought. She needed him, needed this, so badly and wanted to grab all that she could before reality came back. He pressed the heel of his hand against her, moving it firmly back and forth and in small circles while his lips never left her skin. Just as she was going under, Logan raised his head to watch. Rogue's head fell back against the locker and she moaned as a shudder ran through her.
It felt like heaven, she thought, standing there with him pressed against her. He'd barely touched her and she'd climaxed and maybe she should be embarrassed, but she wasn't. And Logan only looked too proud.
"You okay?" he said in a warm rumble into her ear.
She merely sighed in her response. He was still there and reality hadn't fallen down around their ears. Logan was still holding her, and all the boundaries were still down. Rogue leaned up to kiss him again - but it was cut short.
"I've been looking everyw- what in th’ - I’ve been looking for the two of you!!!" Scott reprimanded. "We've got an emergency meeting. Now!"
He turned to leave with a sigh. "And I swear we're locking up this team room!"
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Her mind was a million other places besides their training and she knew she was going to have to shake it off or lose any chance of proving herself capable.