Logan looked up at the sound in the doorway of the den and grunted a greeting when he saw it was Rogue. She settled herself wordlessly at the other end of the couch, curling her legs under her, and her head fell forward bringing the dark curtain of her hair swinging down to hide her expression. He could almost feel the pain emanating off her in waves and his lips tightened. So Bobby had finally grown the balls to tell her about Kitty, had he? Hell, most of the mansion already knew the pair of them had been bumping pelvises, but either Marie genuinely hadn’t known or she hadn’t wanted to know. He could have said ‘you’re better off without him’ or any number of a hundred different platitudes – God knew he’s been at the receiving end of enough himself since Jean died – but he wasn’t one of life’s comforters and he suspected that she didn’t want to hear it anyway. Instead he slung one arm around her shoulders and offered her a bottle of beer. She didn’t refuse either.
They watched the TV in silence for some time, the flickering images flaring off the walls and creating stark shadows around them. It was some old Clint Eastwood movie Logan had seen more times than he could remember – probably literally. Nevertheless it was still engrossing enough that he wasn’t quite sure later at what point he became aware of the softness of Marie’s skin beneath his fingers; exactly when a friendly caress morphed into something more. All he knew was that suddenly, inexplicably it seemed, she was in his arms and he was kissing her, a full, passionate kiss that in no way came under the heading ‘comforting’.
It would have been nice to think that, had she asked, he would have given her an opportunity to think things through, to back out before they went too far. It would have been a lie. The truth was, once she was crushed beneath him, kissing him back, he used just about every trick in the book to make sure she damn well didn’t change her mind. His hands skimmed over every inch of her body, peeling off each layer of clothing slowly, torturing her flesh with soft, moist kisses and gentle nips until she was writhing beneath him. He liked the sound of his name spilling from her lips in breathless gasps, prolonged the agony so that she would say it again, over and over. He felt no qualm when he finally entered her shuddering body and discovered that she was still a virgin because the truth was that, even if he had known, it wouldn’t have stopped him. Besides, she made no complaint other than a soft cry that rapidly became a moan as he moved inside her, her arms pulling him closer, clinging tightly to him even as he lifted her hips and buried himself as deeply as he could inside her.
Afterwards she snuggled up against him, and what he saw in her eyes as she looked at him chilled him enough that he pulled himself upright, shrugging out of her embrace. He saw the brief flare of hurt in her expression before she squelched it, and it was an effort not to take her back into his arms and make all the hurt go away again. But he didn’t. He had enough grief of his own to deal with: he was in no position to take on someone else’s unhappiness too.
“You okay, Marie?” he forced himself to ask, wondering belatedly if he had hurt her. His hand smoothed the hair back from her forehead, but when she smiled again he quickly stopped, cursing his own stupidity. Being kind now would only make things harder on both of them.
“I’m fine Logan. But thanks for askin’.”
“So you going to tell Popsicle boy about this?”
She frowned, shaking her head. “Why should I tell Bobby about any of this? It’s nothing to do with him any more. I can see who I like.”
“Yes you can.” He took a breath, bracing himself. “And you should. See people I mean,” he clarified when she looked blank. “Now you’ve taken the cure you’re free, Marie. There’s nothing to stop you from seeing as many people as you like.”
“But I thought…” she trailed off, nibbling her lip, her unspoken words hanging in the air between them. She’d thought that there was some kind of future in their relationship, he knew. It pained him to disillusion her in such a way, but he knew it had to be done.
“Get outta this place. Meet some new people, have a little fun. You should be with kids your own age, not hanging around with a group of X-freaks.”
“You think I should become some kind of slut?” she queried, narrowing her eyes and moving away from him. “What’s going on, Logan? What just happened here, because I’m getting a little confused.”
“We had sex,” he drawled, refusing to back down. “It was good, and it was obviously something we both needed or it wouldn’t have happened. Just don’t read too much into it. I’m sorry Bobby broke up with you, but—”
“You’re sorry for me?” she choked, scrambling up from the couch and standing over him. “You think this was about me and Bobby breaking up?”
“Wasn’t it?”
“Oh my God!” She laughed then, a thin, painful sound in the quiet room. She grabbed her T-shirt from where it had fallen and pulled it over her head, stepped into her panties and jeans. He noticed her hands were shaking and felt like a monster. He was also absurdly turned on again, watching her move around in front of him in a reverse striptease. The urge to grab her narrow waist and pull her down to straddle his lap was almost too strong to resist. But something told him he’d just blown whatever chance he may have had to get into her pants again anytime soon.
“So what was this, Logan? A pity fuck?” Her voice broke into his thoughts, and he shook his head angrily.
“It was just sex, Marie! Grow up and get used to it.”
“Don’t worry, Sugar. I think the last few minutes have taught me all I need to know about sex,” she spat, reaching into her jeans pocket and pulling out her wallet. She tossed a couple of notes on top of him where he lay still sprawled on the couch. “Consider that a tip for services rendered. If I ever need another cheap lay I’ll know where to come.”
End of Part One
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I’ve gone out on a limb a bit with this one. For a start it’s in three parts, although they’ve all been written already so panic ye not. Secondly it’s not foof, which may explain why I’m a bit uneasy about the whole thing. I feel happier with foof, I know where I am. Lastly, it is a challenge generator fic in origin, but it went beyond that. Maybe I should have stopped after the first bit, who knows - answers on a postcard please. I’ve been really strict with myself and stuck within the parameters of X3, even to the extent of imagining that Logan really did love Jean. Horrible thought, I know.
For those who are interested, the challenge was ‘Pity Fuck’, the object ‘wallet’.
For those who are interested, the challenge was ‘Pity Fuck’, the object ‘wallet’.