She was between a rock and a hard place.
If he kept catching her staring at him instead of running through her routine, eventually he’d figure out her guilty secret. However, he liked to work out bare-chested, and there was no way she could help the furtive glances directed at the small of his back, the broad expanse of his chest, the line of hair that ran down his stomach and into his sweatpants…
Right now she was zoned out, staring at his waist. Or, more specifically, his side…right where his ribcage narrowed into his waist, directly above his gorgeous hips. His sweatpants were riding low today; she could see the hard line of his hipbone above the waistband. A trickle of sweat ran down his side as he worked against the punching bag. The skin there looked incredibly smooth; it was such a secret place on a man’s body. There, she wanted to kiss him there.
“Rogue! Focus!”
Her eyes realigned and her head snapped up just in time for Bobby to wrap his arms around her midsection and tackle her to the mats with a resounding “oof!”
Bobby bounded up with the energy only a nineteen-year-old superhero that wanted to show off for the team leader
“Rogue? Y’ okay?” Bobby asked.
“Ahm…fine…” she managed in a husky whisper. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Logan had stopped his routine and was looking at them. Great. Just great.
She sat up slowly, shaking her head. Bobby packed a punch when he wanted to. Even more slowly she crawled to her feet. Scott was at the edge of the mats, chastising her.
“Your lack of focus can get you in trouble, Rogue.”
The leftover bits of Logan in her head wanted to snarl at Scott’s know-it-all attitude. She had to wrap a leash around it before it got her into more trouble. “Ah know,” she grumbled. Stupid Logan in his stupid sweatpants.
“Where were you?”
Unable to stop herself, her eyes slewed in HIS direction for all of one second. He was gulping water, his gaze pointed in her direction over the bottom of the plastic bottle. Those three lines were present above the bridge of his nose, between his thick eyebrows. She called them the “I’m thinking, dammit” lines, because they always appeared when he was mulling something over in his head but didn’t want to ask a question that might sound stupid.
She dropped her eyes to the mats guiltily. “Nowhere. A movie Jubes and ah saw last naht,” she drawled, her southern accent more pronounced in her embarrassment.
“This isn’t a movie. This is real life. If you can’t get that, you’re out. Understand?”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“Ten laps, then hit the showers,” Scott said, the anger in his voice apparent.
Marie bit her tongue and took off, her ponytail bouncing behind her. By the time she finished her laps she was dripping with sweat and was almost late for her BioChem class.
But at least Logan was gone. Thank God.
Jubilee met her coming out of the showers. “No water, chica. Pipes’re busted.”
Marie groaned. She didn’t have time to run all the way back to her room, shower, and make it to her class on time. Being late was NOT an option, but neither was showing up smelling gross.
“Shit.”
“Use the guy’s locker room.”
Marie cocked an eyebrow at her friend. Jubilee shrugged.
“They’ve all gone to class. No one’ll care.”
Fine. Marie grabbed her shampoo and conditioner from her locker and knocked on the door to the Men’s side of the locker room. No one answered.
She cracked the door open.
“Hey. Anyone in here?”
No answer.
Marie shrugged and pushed in. No WAY was she going to class smelling like a gym sock.
Feeling like a fugitive, Marie hurried past the personal lockers and benches and into the showers. She wrinkled her nose as she passed the urinals; why did the men’s room smell like pee when the women’s room, equipped with basically the same facilities, smelled just fine?
She grabbed a thick towel and stripped, shivering in the cold air. Just hurry up, a quick shower, and then get to class.
She turned one of the spigots on full blast, not waiting for it to heat up before she ducked her head under. She gasped; it was so COLD! Her skin broke out into goose bumps and her nipples turned rock hard. Grabbing the soap, she tried to make quick work of getting clean.
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Normally he would’ve been a gentleman and backed out of the showers, but the truth of the matter was, she surprised the shit out of him. He was expecting to see Cyclops showering with his ruby-quartz underwater goggles, not a naked Marie.
“Fuck’re you doing here?” he barked.
She shrieked, the shrill sound echoing off the tiles. Wrapping her arms around her bare breasts, she half-turned and saw a very muscular, very naked Logan scowling at her in shock. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened and in an instant she knew what it felt like to be a deer caught in a pair of headlights.
Also, that there was a huge difference between being naked and being exposed.
Her eyes slid down his chest, where his hair was matted down with perspiration from his workout, over his flat stomach, the dip of his navel, to the dark bush that framed his thick sex. A small sound escaped her throat, a high color spreading across her face.
So much for worrying about getting caught staring at him: as she tried to unglue her eyes from the impressive display that hung heavy between his thighs, he grabbed the white towel that was slung across his shoulders and hitched it around his waist. She blinked and refocused.
“The…the showers…in the women’s room are…broken…” she whispered, barely heard over the spray of the water.
He cocked an eyebrow at her but didn’t make a move to leave. The water was now steaming hot but she shivered again, this time from his gaze. Her breasts were barely covered by her arms and her ass was hanging out in plain sight and-
“Do you mahnd?” she finally thought of to say. Unfortunately, it sounded lame; they had been staring at each other for a good minute.
“Yeah, I do,” he growled, and stalked toward her. Marie tensed as he passed by, fear and desire coursing through her veins. He moved past her, though, picked a showerhead at the far end of the open room and turned the spray on full blast. It didn’t take long for the steam in the room to double.
“What do you think yer doin’?” she asked in shock.
“I’m runnin’ late, kid,” he growled and reached for the towel that hung low on his hips. He slipped it off, hooking it over the towel bar, and Marie got an eyeful of the most gorgeous backside she had ever seen. She should avert her eyes. She should be outraged. She should go over there and see if it felt as hard as it looked.
“Ahm late too!” And unable to move her locked joints.
“So? You look at your wall, and I’ll look at mine,” he reasoned while reaching for the soap. “No big deal.” He glanced at her over his shoulder and she whipped her head around to the blue tiled wall in front of her.
Right. Right. No big deal. RIGHT. Marie was on the verge of hyperventilating. Sure, she liked to watch him workout. A little light voyeurism never hurt anyone. But this…never in her wildest fantasies had she ever even DARED to imagine Logan naked…and wet…and only ten feet away.
She was gonna be late to BioChem if she didn't hurry.
She could hear him behind her. He was whistling under his breath, that arrogant bastard. And she could hear him scrubbing shampoo through his hair.
God, she’d love to wash his hair for him.
Marie bit her lip to stifle the small moan. Feeling as nervous as a snowman in a furnace factory, she quickly began to lather up the soap, a fire burning between her legs and not sure whether she wanted to linger or flee.
“You weren’t focusing today,” he said casually.
Shit, she wasn’t focusing right NOW. It took her a moment to find her voice. “S-so?”
“Cyke’s right; that could get you in trouble.”
She made a noncommittal sound, unable to grasp her mind around the situation. What was WITH Logan? He had always treated her like a little sister, but most guys didn’t shower with their sisters. He seemed comfortable considering her just one of the guys, okay to shower with, but in the back of her mind she kept expecting to feel his hands slide over her wet skin-
Now she really did moan. Just once. Very quietly.
She quickly rinsed the soap off her legs and started rinsing her hair.
And that’s when she saw the shaving mirror, mounted on the wall on a pivoting slide bar. Presumably for easy adjustability to whomever needed to shave while showering.
By some cruel twist of fate, it was at the perfect angle for her to see every inch of Logan as he tilted his head back to rinse out the shampoo. Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaa baby. Even in the humidity of the room, which now resembled a sauna, her mouth ran dry.
There was so much of him to look at. He wore his jeans tight, so of course every resident in the mansion could tell he had a great tush. Unclothed, though, it was absolutely breathtaking. The muscles of his back flexed and bunched as he lifted his arms to make sure he cleaned every area. Water streamed down every hard surface of his body. His hair, usually standing up in wild spikes, was slicked back from his face, and every time he shifted on the wet tiles, she could see a dark shadow swinging back and forth between his legs.
What would it feel like between HER legs?
Dammit. Her arousal was turned on full blast. There’d be no use focusing in BioChem now, not with images of Logan’s butt dancing through her head.
“Take a picture kid, it’ll last longer.”
Her eyes flew open wide, startled, as he shot a glance at her over his shoulder, his eyes meeting hers in the shaving mirror. He cocked his head at his own shaving mirror, where he had been watching her appraise him the entire time.
Oh God.
Horrified, Marie made a grab for her towel and turned on her heel to flee, soap in her hair or no.
“Wait.”
That one word, growled at her, made her freeze. She couldn’t raise her eyes from the mosaic pattern on the floor, even as she heard the wet slap of his feet approaching. Two strong legs appeared in her vision, she shied away from him, huddling against the cold wall as her teenage mind screamed in embarrassment and dismay. Marie closed her eyes and tilted her head up. When she opened her eyes she kept her gaze cemented on his chin, trying her damndest not to look…down.
“Ah…have to go,” she whispered.
“Uh uh,” he growled low in his throat. “Fair’s fair. You looked your fill-”
Her eyes flew up to his, surprised and embarrassed.
“-now it’s my turn.”
Marie’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. Her heart threatened to dig itself out of her chest and then explode.
“You still have some shampoo in your hair,” he casually mentioned, and leaned against the tile next to her. He crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “Wash it out.” It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command.
Marie’s brain shut down completely. Slowly, on numb feet, she turned and ducked her head under the hot spray. She lifted her arms to run her hands through her long hair and squeeze out the excess soap. She was acutely aware of how the action caused her breasts to tilt up, her shoulder blades to gather. She felt every drop of water as it hit her and slid down her skin, all the way to the floor.
It was easier to do with her back to him. She reached for the bar of soap and ran it first up one arm and then down the other. Dizzy with excitement and confusion about how exactly this happened, she ran her hands over her breasts, her nipples two solid points of fire in her palms. God that felt good. She tilted her head back and turned, so she was standing in profile to him.
His quiet grunt of approval caused a deep blush to spread over her face. She glanced over at him, and her rosebud mouth opened in shock as she saw his cock, now erect, standing up between his legs.
“Turn around,” he growled.
Her eyes were fixated five inches below his navel.
“Do it,” he ordered gruffly, and slowly, a tad nervously, she did. What did he want?
Oh, she thought a moment later. That.
He had grabbed her bottle of conditioner, and squeezed some into his hand. He moved behind her and was running it through her hair, first applying it with his palms and then raking his fingers through her thick locks. The tugging at her scalp made her want to purr.
He stepped closer, and she felt something nudge against her bottom. She stiffened at the unfamiliar sensation. It was so HARD. It felt like silk spread over steel, and the way it kept pushing at her inner thighs, the way his chest was brushing against her back as he leaned over her, made her want to moan.
In fact, she did. A few times. Especially when one hand slid out of her hair, moving lower to cup her breast. She looked down. The sight of his tanned hand with its strong, blunt fingers against her pale breast, a pink nipple slightly visible, made things low in her belly tighten and loosen at the same time.
“Logan,” Marie gasped, quickly becoming unable to stand on her own willpower. The feel of his wet flesh against her was too delicious to bear.
“Yeah kid…I know.”
She turned abruptly. Now his erection was sliding through her sex, the swollen head pushing and seeking in the wet heat. The feeling that she was a cat wanting to purr returned. Marie couldn’t help it; she began to squirm against the hardness that was between her legs, rubbing against it like it was an itch that needed scratching. She heard his breath catch, his hands sliding down now to grab her ass and pull her against him.
Logan pushed her hard against the wall, one hand sliding down her hip, hooking under her thigh to hitch her leg around his waist. She started to slip on the wet tiles and Logan hooked her other leg around him, supporting her weight completely. Marie moaned, knowing what came next and welcoming it by wrapping her hand around him, squeezing and sliding and slippery with soap. His head reared back, and his hips bucked against her hand.
“Yeah?” he growled, a groan that she could feel more than hear rumbling out of his chest.
Marie smiled. Screw BioChem. “Yeah.”
She expected him to slide into her, to be crammed full by him. Instead he tensed, his head turned away from her. He sniffed the air, and the “I’m thinking, dammit,” lines appeared. Only now they were more like “Get the fuck out of here” lines.
“Wha-“ she managed before he clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide and surprised.
Without a word he lowered her to the ground, jerked the shower handle to ‘off’ and grabbed her hand, dragging her into the bathroom section of the Men’s locker room. Marie let herself be led like a rag doll into one of the three stalls at the far end of the room, past the sinks and the urinals. Logan pulled her inside, then shut and locked the door behind them.
“What-“ she whispered fiercely, confused beyond belief by the sudden turn of events. Five seconds ago Logan was about to fuck her against the shower wall. Now she was dripping water onto the floor and shivering.
A deep humming echoed in the tiled bathroom and Marie’s eyes widened. Shocked, she looked up at Logan, who nodded at her.
Scott. Holy shit. If they were caught, she had no idea who would be in worse trouble: Marie for trying to fuck a teacher or Logan for trying to fuck a student.
“Hey, Logan,” Scott called. “The Professor was looking for you.”
Footfalls were coming closer. As gracefully as a ballet dancer, Logan sat down on the commode and scooped Marie off her feet, gathering her onto his lap just in time before Scott walked into the room. They both held their breaths; only one set of feet in the stall, maybe Scott wouldn’t notice-
A zipper was raked down. The distinct sound of a man peeing filled the room.
“He wants to see you in his office tonight.”
Logan grunted a brief “’kay.” His arms were wrapped around her, trying to balance her awkwardly on his lap without making any noise. She wobbled a bit and while Logan faked a loud coughing fit, she shifted a bit and wound up facing him, awkwardly straddling his lap, her knees parted brazenly as she perched, kneeling, on his thighs.
Marie was shivering so hard she had to clamp her jaw shut so her teeth wouldn’t chatter. Her hair still had conditioner in it and it hung down her back in a freezing, soaked mass. Her breasts were still hard from the cold, but when she looked down she saw his erection had disappeared.
The urinal flushed, feet padded out of the bathroom, and both Marie and Logan breathed a sigh of relief.
A showerhead sprang to life in the shower room, and strains of a loudly off-key “Girl from Ipanema” filtered into the stall where the two naked refugees were shivering.
Logan looked at Marie and rolled his eyes.
Marie looked at Logan.
And started to giggle.
Logan shook his head sharply at her once, his soaked hair flinging cold-water droplets in her face. It didn’t help; it made her want to giggle even more. Marie clapped a hand over her mouth but that didn’t work. She bit down on her lip; that didn’t work either. Twenty minutes ago she had been worried that Logan would catch her admiring his ass while he worked out. Now she was sitting, naked, in his lap. He was sexy and scowling and slippery, and he was NAKED AS WELL and sitting on a toilet in the Men’s room. And her gym teacher was showering twenty feet away, and positively butchering Frank Sinatra.
“Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes WALK-ING,” Scott yodeled.
A small giggle escaped, and more threatened to bubble out. Her eyes rolled wildly in their sockets, and in five seconds Scott was going to find her naked and laughing on top of Logan and-
Logan slid a finger between her legs and into her heat. At the same time, his mouth opened and attached itself to her breast, his tongue hot and wet against her cold skin. It worked; all thoughts of giggling flew out of her head.
“Logan, no,” she half-whispered, half-mouthed. His finger kept stroking and sliding only now her hips began to move against him. Her nipple was between his teeth and he looked at her and winked.
“When she walks, she’s like a SAM-BA,” came from the other room as Marie twisted desperately in Logan’s lap, trying not to moan.
“If ya gotta make noise, bite my shoulder, darlin’,” he whispered against her breast, and she felt him tense as she took him up on his advice, her teeth sinking against and into his clean skin, nearly eating him as his thumb found that sensitive spot and rubbed against it. He added another finger and now her teeth were at his throat, biting, licking, and muffling her moans against the crisp curls that were nestled there. As soon as she could, she was going to taste that smooth strip of skin along his side.
His erection was back and larger than ever, and she smoothed her palms over it. If he wasn’t worried that she would give them away, then the least she could do was extend him the same courtesy. His mouth moved to her other breast, and the sucking hardened. His fingers went deeper, hooking into her, rubbing against that certain spot that she had read about but was never able to pinpoint by herself.
“How can I tell her that I love her OOOOOOOOO-“ sang Scott as Marie writhed on Logan’s lap in the bathroom stall.
She was dripping on him in more ways than one. His balls were heavy and full beneath her fingers, his cock a steel bar that throbbed. She stroked him in a different way than how he was stroking her, but it was just as good. His eyes locked with hers, and Marie didn’t need telepathy to know what he was thinking.
-Gonna make you come, darlin’, all over me. Then, if I’m lucky, I’m gonna come all over you-
Marie felt herself tighten down there, felt her sex clamping down on his fingers. He hesitated, perhaps they were taking this too far with Scott within earshot, maybe, but she grabbed his wrist and held it in place, riding his fingers now as if they were his cock. Her eyes still held his, narrowing.
-You started this, you finish it-
He grinned wolfishly.
-All over me baby, yeah, I wanna feel you come-
It was so hot and wet and dripping; the friction of his thumb on her clit finally broke into fire and the second she felt herself falling over the edge she grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head to the side, savagely sinking her teeth into his neck hard enough to taste blood. It was the only way to keep from screaming as she came on his fingers.
A few moments later she felt something hot and wet against her belly. When she could focus enough, she looked down and watched as he finished shooting semen onto her in thick ropes that felt boiling hot on her cold skin. He was bucking against her, his ass off the toilet, breathing harshly through his mouth, back arched and head thrown back so far it was leaning against the tiled wall. Curious, she slid one hand down the slick length, sticky and warm, and he couldn’t suppress a groan of pure pleasure. He stilled her hand with one of his; biting his lower lip to keep from making any more noise. The bite on his neck had already healed, but there was still a little blood.
They’d need another shower after this.
The water in the other room shut off; Scott was done.
“You okay in there?”
Yeah, Logan tried to say and failed. He licked his lips, tried again. “Yeah.”
“Okay. Don’t forget about the Professor.”
Scott began to whistle ‘Fly Me to the Moon,’ but it stopped after a few seconds.
“Hey, Logan?”
Marie looked down at Logan. He rolled his eyes at her. “Yeah?”
“Tell Rogue she left her clothes in front of my locker. Oh, and she has detention for skipping class.”
The whistling resumed, on a much jollier note.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Story Notes:
Thanks to ever-patient Karen for beta-ing this, and for UKTara for being my gorgeous muse of smut. This was written to lighten my mood after I wrote 100. Boy, did it lighten it.