Of a morning, Logan’s senses came alive one by one. Strongest, of course, was his sense of smell, so it was happy-content-Marie, still drenched with satisfaction, that registered first. Her tiny snuffles and contented exhalations tickled his ears, and even through sweatpants, socks, and long-sleeved t, he could feel her body pressed into every hollow of his own. He was already stroking himself before thought registered, and was damn close when he realised exactly what he was doing. And then he felt Marie tense, heard the intrigued hitch in her breath, and smelt the tang of her curiosity. He froze, cock still in hand, and screwed his eyes even more tightly shut.
“Don’t stop.” Her voice was husky, possibly with sleep, but the change in her scent suggested another contributor. “Logan. I want to see.”
He protested wordlessly, the straight lines of his mouth and a tic over one eye suggesting just how uncomfortable this was for him. He wasn’t shy, but solo sex was generally that. To be watched … he hated to be that vulnerable. Even to Marie. But … he opened his eyes to gaze into brown, and his hand was inside his sweatpants again before he was aware of making a decision. There was no threat there, and her increasingly harsh breathing and thickening scent suggested that even this act could be shared. If he wanted it to be.
Logan relaxed into the purely physical tension, and stripped himself of the sweatpants in one economical movement. He lay on his back, cock in hand, and looked at her. She had risen to her knees to watch him, inadvertently showcasing her body in his old t-shirt. He could see the press of pink nipples, and gloriously toned thighs peeking from under the hem before curving into long, perfect legs. He wanted to see more.
“Take it off.” Her momentary confusion was banished by his focus on her chest, eyes locked to her nipples as they pushed against the thin cotton. She flushed, mouth rounded in an O of surprise, but then took a deep breath and lifted the t-shirt off. The movement was slow and unsure, but fuck if it wasn’t the most seductive thing he had ever witnessed.
“You can’t touch …” Marie stopped, obviously realising he didn’t plan to touch her, though his gloves on the nightstand would have made it possible. Instead, he slid his hand along his cock as his eyes visited the temptations he had been trying to avoid for so long. The sinful curve of her lips. The glorious upthrust of pink on pink on cream. The dip where her small waist gave way to the flare of her hips. A small patch of dark curls at the apex of her thighs. Growing darker, he noted with satisfaction, his strokes growing increasingly rapid.
“Marie. Touch yourself.” He was so far gone, he couldn’t restrain the command, and when her fingers drifted shyly towards one nipple, he had to pinch the base of his cock to gain him a few precious moments. “No. I want you to come with me. You know how to get yourself off, don’t you?”
Her scalding blush – even her toes went pink, he noted – failed to dampen the surge in her arousal, but her fingers only moved so far before hovering over her mound, seemingly unable to go further. Logan berated himself briefly – she’s still a virgin, fuckwit, even if she is the most sensual creature you’ve ever met – before losing patience with her sudden shyness. What the fuck had she expected when she tried to talk her way into his bed? How could this girl expect to cope with the Wolverine? Even now the animal wanted to tear and bite and slam his need into her, and goddamn but innocence should NOT be a fuckin’ aphrodisiac.
“Marie. I’m gonna come, baby,” he grunted, pleadingly, as his hand yanked once, twice. “Please …” just do it, kid, this is fuckin’ torture … so close … he felt the pressure building in front of his tailbone and eased off again as she ran her fingers down her slit, and spread her legs and GOD, he could see her all pink and glistening and he so wanted to bury his face there and taste…. and he was coming, and what had Marie said about colours, there was no colour just red and black and heat and pressure and his body churning and falling and erupting …
As the spasms released their iron grip on his body, he opened his eyes to see her sitting slightly apart from him, still gloriously naked and flushed pink. He didn’t think it was the pink of embarrassment, so he was betting orgasm. How could he have been so far gone he didn’t see her come? Then he registered the ache throughout his body, the utter languor in every muscle, and realised he wouldn’t have seen fuckin’ Sabretooth in the room, he’d come so hard. Just from a bit of morning wood and an eyeful of little girl.
“So, colours then?” Shy Marie was back to Mischievous Marie, and God, wasn’t that his favourite Marie of all.
“More like a freight train. Or two,” he replied. “Nice way to wake up. You all warm and snuggly.” And smelling like my fuckin’ downfall, he thought.
“Why …” the question trailed off as Marie seemed to run out of sass.
“Why what? You gotta right to ask anything you want, kid. Ask for anything you want, too,” Logan added, not unaware of the darting glances she had been directing at his rapidly hardening cock.
“Why did you want me to … uh … masturbate?” Her face flamed, but her voice regained its steadiness with admirable speed. “And why did you want to see me naked?”
Logan stared at her as he put his thoughts in order. Somehow, he realised, they had passed the point of no return and he hadn’t even noticed. He’d never be able to think “untouchable” again, or put her back in the mental box he’d marked “kid”.
“Remember what I said yesterday? About not touching you? I guess I needed you to show me you weren’t really a kid. That you … you could keep up with me. Match me.” He was making no fucking sense, trying to pussyfoot around the issue. “I needed you to see who I am, what a bastard I can be. And for you to take what you need, ‘cause I ain’t always gonna give it to you.”
“Oh.” She sounded wary, maybe a little disappointed. But then her chin lifted to look him straight in the eye. “Well, hell, sugar, I’m the one with poisonous skin, so there’s all sortsa stuff I can’t give you. But there’s other stuff, too,” she said, her eyes roaming over him as if looking for a place to start. His cock stood up to volunteer, and Marie managed to blush and giggle at the same time.
He mock-growled and reached for his gloves. Girl needed to be taught a lesson. Preferably one that involved her screaming his name loud enough to wake the entire house. He sobered as he realised he was only half-joking, and was forced to acknowledge the truth. Their relationship had been inevitable, as much as age, time and circumstance had conspired against it. He had never been immune to the sexual allure this girl had for him; he had simply submerged the attraction in the welter of protective feelings that came with recognising his mate. Whether she was 17 or 37, she was his, and he wasn’t prepared to wait another six minutes, let alone six months, to claim her.
They both groaned when a rapping on the door was followed by Storm demanding Logan’s attention. “We can’t find Rogue, Logan. She didn’t sleep in her bed and no one’s seen her since 10 last night. Her friends seem to know something, but they’re not telling me, so I thought you …”
Just as well, Logan thought as he pulled some spare sweatpants and a shirt for her out of his duffle. They needed to invest in some body suits. And latex. Anything in latex could be good.
“Keep your panties on, Storm, we’re coming.” Logan wondered if Storm had noticed his plural, and then dismissed the thought. They were X-men – extraordinarily good at being oblivious.
XXXXX
It was almost a rerun of the previous night, Logan thought, just with way more anger and some pretty bad weather. Lightning cracked outside and torrents of water poured from the gutters as Storm processed the fact that Logan and Marie were lovers. Cyclops sat at the table and glowered as only a laser-equipped mutant could, and the Professor was doing his best line in cold disapproval. Logan could care less about their reaction, but Marie’s white face had him worried. He had tried to warn her about just how ugly things would get, but she obviously hadn’t been prepared for words like “pervert” and “paedophile”.
He hated them for putting her through this – hell, he hated himself for putting her through this – but restrained the urge to loose the Wolverine and scare them stupid. (Stupider, his feral self growled.) It wasn’t as if the accusations were unfounded, after all, and Marie would have been confronted with them at some point. Better that she heard his explanations, and realised just how much she meant to him. And that this wasn’t new, or sudden, or just convenient, as they were insinuating.
“Logan!” Storm’s reprimand was punctuated with the stink of ozone and her very words vibrated with thunder. “This can’t happen. You can’t use Rogue like this – we simply won’t allow it. As much as we appreciate everything you’ve done for us,” and at least she had the grace to look shamefaced, “you’re going to have to leave”.
Professor Xavier inclined his head in agreement. “I’m afraid so, Logan. We understand that yourself and Rogue have a – connection – but this is not appropriate behaviour for a teacher and his student. It may not be illegal, but it is immoral and inappropriate for authority figure to take advantage of a young girl like this. It must stop – immediately – and I think it would be best if you leave us for a while.”
Logan barked with laughter, unable to mask his contempt. “Number one, I ain’t never pretended to be any teacher. Rogue asked me to train her, and I agreed. The rest of you just took advantage,” he bared his teeth in a savage grin. “Number two, when I leave – and it’s when, kids, not if – I don’t think I’ll be going alone. Rogue’s not an inmate here, and she makes her own decisions.”
His meaning was clear, and their shocked glances swung to Rogue. He shook his head, unable to believe they had ever thought he’d go quietly, leaving his lover – his LOVER, for fuck’s sake – in their clutches. “The only reason I’ve stayed with you geeks so far is to keep Ma-Rogue safe, ‘cause you sure as hell can’t seem to do that.”
Cyclops and Storm both flushed at his reminder of their inadequacies, and the Professor fairly hummed with annoyance. “This situation is a temporary aberration. I have provided a secure, loving environment for mutant children for many, many years, and will continue to do so in future. Rogue will be a part of that, as we are rebuilding now, and in the future as one of my X-men,” the Professor said, with a small mental push that made the words ring with conviction and confidence. You hadta hand it to the guy, Logan thought sourly, he sure knew how to make a humdinger of a speech. He tried not to be too smug as the girl sitting next to him gave an outraged gasp at the Professor’s presumption.
“Professor! You’ve never even asked me if I wanted to be an X-man. Just handed me suit and ASSUMED that was my future. I’m grateful and all, don’t think I’m not, but this my life and I will choose how I spend it. And I chose Logan a long time ago. We just ended up at the school, but I chose to get in his trailer and in his camper and – for that matter - in his BED. And when he leaves, I sure as hell will CHOOSE to go with him.” Marie had risen to stand, hands on hips, leaning forward to stab every word straight at the Professor. Logan could smell her steaming with anger, her system flooded with adrenaline and just itching to take them on. He wondered briefly if Outraged Marie was his new favourite, and shifted under the table to make some extra space in his jeans, profoundly thankful his mind was so hostile to telepaths.
“So do we go, or do we stay, Chuck? Seems to me, you need my help more than we need yours, right now,” Logan said, unable to resist a sarcastic quirk of his eyebrows. Time for a quick reality check, Chuckie.
“You have no money, no mansion, 96 students, two useless teachers, and three safe houses in different parts of the city – two of which I own, by the way.” Logan gave them a moment to digest that piece of information before continuing. “And a plan. Do you even HAVE a fuckin’ plan?” He snarled the last few words with a ferocity that seem to leave even Xavier shocked. Good. Maybe it was time to wake up and smell the fuckin’ napalm.
Storm was the first to recover from his verbal assault. Logan wasn’t surprised – for all her serenity, Storm had never been blind to the real world like Xavier, Cyclops or Jean. She took a deep breath and while the rain still bucketed outside, she suddenly smelt more human and less like a force of nature. And somewhat chastened, Logan realised.
“We have been letting too much ride on your shoulders,” she said, looking into his eyes for the first time that morning. “I’m sorry we’ve been so … remote, Logan. You’ve taken us all by surprise with this,” her hands made disconcerted patterns in the air, “and perhaps we haven’t dealt with it well. But that doesn’t lessen the fact you’ve been keeping us afloat, and perhaps that needs to change. Regardless of what yourself and Rogue decide to do.” Cyclops and Xavier frowned at her tacit acceptance of the relationship, but stayed silent, obviously unable to deny their vulnerability.
“We need to think about our position and consider our options. And then maybe, come up with a plan,” Storm grimaced. “Perhaps we should have a full meeting of the X-men, and all potential X-men, after lunch? Then we can decide what to do, as a team.” Her silver eyes drilled into Logan and then shifted to Marie. Storm, for one, was still assuming they belonged on that team.
The Professor, ultimately, was a realist and would accept Logan and Marie’s relationship in the interests of convenience, but Cyclops … Logan was pretty sure that Scott Summers was too much of an honourable idiot to countenance the idea of a grown man screwing a teenage girl. Fine, Logan snorted as he slipped an arm around Marie’s shoulders and guided her out of the room; this ain’t YOUR girl, Cyke. And I sure as hell don’t need your approval.
XXXXX
“So sugar, am I moving in with you then?” Marie’s smile was saucy, even if her spirits were still somewhat dimmed by the dramatics of the morning. While the kitchen cabinet had been convened behind closed doors, Logan suspected more than a few kids had been eavesdropping, either with enhanced mutant senses, or with the good old ear-to-the-door. The gossip seemed to have reached every kid in the overcrowded house, and if Logan had to listen to one more “Omigod, Rogue’s doing the Wolverine!” he might just gut someone. Or carve out their tongue. That’d work.
“Yeah, baby, that’d be good. If that’s what you wanna do,” he smiled, stroking her hair as they sprawled on the couch in the suddenly crowded living room. “I’ll clear out the wardrobe next to mine.” She laughed at that, knowing damn well that he kept his clothes in a duffel under the bed, as would she. His closet of a bedroom didn’t have room for anything else.
“And a drawer. I want my own drawer!” Her exaggerated pout suggested she was joking, but Logan still felt bad. As soon as they were shot of the X-geeks, he’d give Marie a wardrobe, all the drawers she wanted, and the moon too.
“Let’s see what we can do.” He rose to his feet, pulling her up his body to stand in front of him. Suddenly, he wanted to give the kids something to talk about, and the square of silk Marie had draped around her neck was so thin it would … mmm. It did. It did taste like heaven, like nothing, in fact. Like naked lips soaked with Marie-taste and Marie-smell and Marie-love. He could drown in those things.
Logan lifted his head after trailing his lips along her nose and both eyelids before pressing them fervently against her forehead. In the back of his mind, he realised it mirrored their embrace on Magneto’s machine, and wondered once again if his interest had been … sordid, back then. Was his love for her ever pure, or had it been tainted by sex, all along? He pushed away the question as unanswerable and released her with a last, chaste kiss. Once again, they had drawn an audience – “What the fuck are we? Entertainment?” he growled, scattering wide-eyed kids in every direction.
Two stayed: Marie’s yellow friend and the girl who walked through walls. Logan tried to scare them off, but Marie put her hand on his arm. “Sugar, I need to have a word with Jubilee and Kitkat. I’ll see ya later?” He grunted assent and decided some fresh air would do him good. Fresh air and a store that sold gloves and condoms and bodysuits. In bulk. He was still smiling when the Harley roared out into the street minutes later.
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