Slang - Def Leppard
Sittin' Dark Getting taken 'Cause I said
Something lewd in a Low down accent
Yeah Yeah Yeah Kinda love those eyes
I wanna get down honey But I ain't your guy
I'll rap'n ruck 'N jam it up
But count me out
Cause all I ever wanna get is slang
Slang with me - I don't wanna get my hands dirty
Slang with me - I just wanna get soakin' wet
Slang with me - I don't wanna get my hands dirty
All I ever wanna get is slang
What's affectin' my condition
What's about to knock you down
Said wrapped 'n bound and a goddamn
I'd love to get connected But it's outta my hands
[Repeat Bridge]
[Repeat Chorus]
It's my intention to be your obsession
It's my obsession to be your addiction
[Repeat Chorus]
Rogue lay on the couch, watching a movie and popping M&M's into her mouth absentmindedly. She was so ensconced in the drama enfolding before her on the television screen, that she didn't notice when Logan dropped down next to her until his head blocked the picture.
She let out a little shriek and clutched at the candy bag convulsively. "Logan," she gasped, "what are you *doing*?"
He grinned up at her, resting his head on her lap. "I didn't figure you'd give me any of your...goodies unless I took drastic measures." The look in his eyes when he said 'goodies' sent tremors shivering down her spine. He'd been giving her that 'you're-mine-baby' look since she turned twenty-one, and she wasn't altogether sure she liked it.
Scrupulously honest, at least with herself, Rogue admitted that of *course* she liked having him want her, she just wasn't sure she was ready for it. Logan was an intense man, with intense passions, and while she knew he wouldn't take it any further than she wanted to go, she was also fully aware that with one kiss all her inhibitions would flow away like dew from a petal.
"D-drastic measures?" she echoed weakly, gazing down into his blazing eyes and feeling her insides dissolve to become pure, liquid desire. She shifted uncomfortable on the couch, silently cursing him for the knowing gleam in his eyes as he rubbed his head against her thighs, all the while staring up at her, forcing her eyes to lock helplessly to his.
He reached up and she thought for one startled moment that he was going to touch her breast. Her nipples hardened at the thought, but he merely smiled that infuriating little half-smile and took an M&M from the packet she still held in her trembling hands.
"So," he said, popping the candy into his mouth and slowly half-sitting up so that his forearms rubbed against her full, aching breasts. She stifled a moan, barely, and closed her eyes in an attempt to dull the sensation. Of course that only made things worse; now her every nerve ending vibrated in accordance with her throbbing nipples and her concentration was focused solely on the point of contact between their two bodies.
"...what are we watching?" he asked, and her eyes snapped open immediately. She noticed, with slight disappointment - all right, a *great* deal of disappointment - that he was now sitting next to her, shoulder to shoulder, and there was nothing erotic about it. Except for the heated looks he kept throwing her way, and the fact that she was aroused to the point of begging for some form of release, and then of course there was *his* arousal, which couldn't be mistaken for anything else and definitely couldn't be hidden. It was nothing new to her, however - he always had an erection, at least whenever he was around her. She hadn't known if it was her or if it was a constant affliction - she couldn't enter a room without him knowing it, whether it was by scent or some kind of instinctual knowledge was unclear to her, thus she couldn't find out if she was the cause of his excitement - until she'd asked Betsy (happily-married-to-Warren Betsy) for help.
They'd conducted a little 'experiment', in which Betsy sat opposite Logan in the sitting room, watching his crotch as every woman - including some of the most beautiful in the mansion like Storm and Jean - walked into the room. Not even a twitch, Betsy had assured Rogue, until she had entered the sitting room. Then there was a tent big enough to sleep a refugee camp under - and so Rogue knew she didn't have to worry about whether Logan's feelings were true or not, and Betsy had to spend the better part of the next week convincing her husband that she wasn't interested in Logan, had only been staring at his crotch as a favor to a friend. Naturally that had earned her a disbelieving look from Warren and muttered threats about Wolverine that were unmentionable in polite company. The whole matter was sorted out when Rogue had gone to Warren and explained the situation to him; of course after that, *he'd* had to spend the better part of the week placating his wife for not trusting her. "Making up," Betsy had told her, "makes for great sex."
Rogue flushed a little, thinking of that now, and felt a little guilty herself that she hadn't believed what she'd seen in Logan's eyes. She didn't know why; they'd never lied to her before, and he surely wouldn't have started on something as important to both of them as his feelings for her.
She released a shaky breath, thinking about the fact that he obviously cared for her, wanted her, what was she so afraid of? Nothing, she decided, absolutely nothing. And as the lounge was completely empty, save the two of them, now was the perfect time to tell him.
Rogue opened her mouth to speak, and found to her utter surprise that while she'd been ruminating on the past, Logan had changed their positions on the couch. He was now half-reclining against the side, with her nested between his thighs, head resting against his chest. How she hadn't noticed that would forever remain a mystery to her - though she did know that at times she thought deeply enough to go into a semi-trance, so perhaps that would explain it? - but it wasn't something to become focused on at the moment. She had to tell Logan what she'd just figured out, before she lost her courage.
She once again opened her mouth - she'd closed it upon discovering their different placements, which was strange now that she thought about it, because didn't people who were surprised usually open their mouths, not close them? - and had just said, "Logan, I need to tell you something-" when everything went black.
For a moment she thought she'd gone blind, then heard Logan's soft oath in her ear and realized the power had gone out. Sure enough, the Professor knocked mentally then said ~Rogue, Logan, there has been a blackout. The two of you are the only ones in the lounge and unfortunately all the entrances - including the windows - are electronically operated. We cannot open the doors or windows until the electricity has been switched on, unfortunately this will take quite a while; will you be all right until morning?~
After receiving both of their mental reassurances, the Professor left them to their own devices.
"So," she said, wiggling a little, "we should find some candles or something, huh?"
"Actually," he growled huskily, "I don't think we should leave the couch. Might fall over something in the dark."
He brought his hands up to wrap around her waist and she swallowed at the rush of desire his touch evoked. Logan began rubbing her stomach, stroking in slow circles that gradually became wider and wider until with every stroke his hands brushed against her jeans-covered core or the sensitive undersides of her breasts, protected only by a thin black silk top.
"Uhhh... Logan? What exactly are we going to do on the couch?" she asked, without thinking.
"Oh, I bet I can think up a few things."
She bit her lip to stop the moan from bubbling out, and was immensely thankful that the pitch black in the room hid her blush. Gee Rogue, she thought, can you say 'walked into that one'?
"Plus," he said, tapping his fingers against the underside of her breasts and causing her to try to wriggle away from his hands - until she discovered the effect all of her writhing was having on him when her ass rubbed against his erection - "we have enough M&M's to last us for the next hour at least."
She knew he was teasing her about her addiction to the sweets and she fought hard to catch ahold of a thought and get it out. "But you don't like candy," she managed.
"Oh, but I like this one," Logan admitted, and his hands trailed down to between her legs. She heard the *snikt* that signaled a claw being extended and the sound of her jeans being cut open at the crotch. She felt her eyes grow heavy with desire, could hear her breathing catch in her throat when he casually traced circles against the pulsing nub that begged for his touch. "It's sweet," he continued, pushing her panties aside and dipping a finger inside the molten heat he'd uncovered and letting the other hand slide up to cover her breast, repeatedly brushing a thumb over the erect nipple until she thought she'd scream, "and you can just pop them into your mouth and suck until the chocolate melts and drips onto your tongue..."
She whimpered.
Rogue knew he grinned at the sound, but couldn't bring herself to care, not now, not when she was so close, so close... Her hips moved against his hand and when she heard him say, "and I love to lick every inch of the little buttons, scrape my tongue against them and just *press* them against the roof of my mouth," and his finger *pressed* hard against her clit, she felt the spring inside her coil tighter and tighter until she couldn't stand it any more and she exploded with a whirl of bright colours and the Symphony Orchestra strumming in the background. Or maybe it was just Logan, strumming his talented fingers against her wet core as though preparing for a second performance.
She moaned, content and yet somehow... not. Incredible as the experience had been, it had also felt somewhat empty. She frowned and shifted against him, trying to figure out what had been missing.
"What's wrong?" he asked, with a voice still gruff with unfulfilled need. And the pieces clicked into place: he hadn't been with her. Oh, technically he had, but he hadn't experienced it with her, not really *with* her, and that was what she needed, what they *both* needed in order to feel truly fulfilled.
Rogue turned in his arms and pressed a kiss to his parted lips. She wouldn't let him take control, instead braced her hands on his chest and straddled him, letting her hair veil both their heads - not that they could see anything anyway - and traced his lower lip with the tip of her tongue. Then she once again pressed her lips to his and this time let her tongue sink into his mouth. She teased his tongue with her own, darting playfully into his mouth, withdrawing, forcing his to follow, forcing his tongue to thrust into her mouth, where she sucked on it, hard, as a reminder of his candy speech, and hopefully hinting of pleasures to come.
She unbuttoned his shirt and lightly kissed the chest she knew was muscled and magnificent - even though she couldn't see it, his strong perfection was printed on her brain like the master-copy at a printing house - licking the flat male nipples and working her way down to his ridged abdomen. The muscles quivered as she trailed her nails over them to her destination: his button-down jeans. Slowly she slipped each button through the button hole, revealing firm flesh she couldn't see but could definitely feel. And he was what women's magazines called 'well-endowed'. She smiled, a wicked feline smile that would've warned him he was about to be sensually tortured, if he could've seen it, but he couldn't, so when she shoved his jeans down his legs and pumped her hand over his erection, then gave it a slow lick and blew lightly, he nearly jumped right off the couch.
"Shh, sugar. Just relax and enjoy it," she whispered, lightly sucking the tip and hearing him groan at both her words and actions. She'd never done anything like this before, but, going solely on instinct, she slid more and more of his huge hardness into her mouth, stopping only when she reached the base and could feel him at the back of her throat. He was moaning now, running his hands through her hair, trying to control her movements. She wouldn't let him, and when she swallowed and lightly squeezed his balls, he growled loudly and pulled her off of him.
"Why'd..." was all he allowed her to get out before she was shoved onto her back on the couch.
He leaned over her and even she, without his incredible senses, could smell his arousal, the near-ferality of him. "Because I didn't want to come in your mouth. Not the first time, anyway."
She'd barely absorbed that little nugget of information when his mouth came down hard upon hers, tongue plunging and savaging masterfully. She moaned because God, was he a good kisser, and because she knew there would be no stopping, not now, and it excited her, that she could turn him on that much, and because she didn't want to stop, more than anything she wanted him to fuck her, make love to her, be *with* her.
His mouth left hers and he panted out, "payback's a bitch. But don't worry, darlin', just relax and enjoy it."
She recognized her own words being thrown back at her but didn't have time to ponder the significance of that. His hands were on her shirt and he ripped it off of her as easily as if she'd been wearing tissue paper. Her bra was deal with just as easily, one claw carefully sliced the straps and he undid the back clasp, and before retracting the metal, he let the blunt edge graze over her nipple. She felt an instant rush of wetness between her legs and once again she knew he grinned - this time with animal pride and undoubtedly pleasure that she was wet enough for him to take her right now - but then his claw was back in and she lifted his hand to gently kiss his knuckles and that made him growl again at the sweetness of it.
Then his mouth was on her breasts, and he was kissing the soft flesh and stroking it with one hand, and then, with a suddenness that made her gasp, his mouth latched onto her nipple and he suckled her, rolling the nipple lightly between his teeth, biting a little, then soothing it with a rough scrape of his tongue. She didn't know how long he'd sucked and bitten and fondled her breasts, when suddenly the warmth of his mouth wasn't there any more and she groaned at the absence, but then she felt his breath lightly hitting the curls between her thighs and she knew she was about to experience something mind-blowing.
She heard nothing but the rasp of her own breathing, felt nothing but the warmth of his against her most intimate place, and she wondered what he was doing, what he could possibly be waiting for. She thought that maybe he, combining his skills as the consummate hunter and feral lover - and she was surprised that she could have a coherent thought at this point in time - was prolonging the silence, the wait, to heighten her arousal, and his own. Whatever the plan, it was certainly working, and she was so turned on that just the feel of his bristled jaw rubbing against her sensitive flesh was enough to send her flying to the velvet-soaked world known as release.
When she came back down to earth he was licking, leisurely - excruciatingly so - her slick folds, letting his teeth graze her clit every so often, and then, without warning, he buried his tongue inside her. She wanted to scream her pleasure but found that her vocal cords were locked into silence by the intensity of his tongue smoothly withdrawing on a long lave then thrusting back in, tasting and torturing, until she could take the incredible sensations no more and finally she screamed her satisfaction. Several times.
He moved up her body and said in a low, graveled voice, "now."
And while she was still panting with the after-effects of her orgasms, he drove his turgid length inside her. She flinched at the sting and he growled at finding her a virgin and kissed her softly, his tongue apologizing if he'd hurt her, gently telling her without words how he felt. And she tasted him and herself and something else, something strong and powerful and so wonderful it brought tears to her eyes.
Then he began to move, and she wrapped her long legs around his waist and let him show her the moves. He thrust his hips, rolled them while he was deep inside her and she moved in counterpoint, her body taking over, joining the two together, uniting them physically, revealing to their bodies what their hearts already knew. They were bonded, joined, and when they came it was with an ecstasy so profound it was almost pain.
Logan, breathing hard, eyes closed, reversed their positions and Rogue collapsed against his chest, too exhausted to even try to move. She was content to lie there, just lie there in the dark and listen to his heartbeat, and she thought he had fallen when suddenly, out of the darkness, he said, "I love you."
It sounded like he was holding his breath, waiting for an answer, he was certainly holding her tightly enough, and Rogue, knowing for the first time exactly how she felt, smiled and replied, "I love you, sugar."
He kissed the top of her head and pulled the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch over them. They slept, and when they awoke it was morning, and she looked up at him and smiled mistily, and he grinned at her, and their eyes said it all. He ran his hand through her hair, and she hugged him, content to lie on the couch on top of him and just be *with* him. She sighed and watched him as the sunlight streamed through the heavy curtains.
And she knew she was no longer in the dark.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Author's Chapter Notes:
A fun-filled foof-fest, because everyone's been too serious lately This is a PWP (and thanks to Karen for telling me what that means ) - and don't blame me for it; I'm on a Def Leppard kick at the moment (which explains everything I'm sure...lol) Rogue can control her powers in this fic, as she can in most of my others. Dedication to Helena, because she deserves to have something non-angsty dedicated to her :)