At night I wake up with the sheet soaking wet
And a freight train runnin' through the middle of my head
Only you can cool my desire
Oh, I'm on fire.
-Bruce Springsteen
It started out innocently enough. A playful rub on the arm. A casual arm around her shoulders. An “accidental” brush of her hand when she lent him a pencil. With every touch, no matter how momentary, she could feel the heat of his body lingering on her skin, even through her sweaters.
Rogue knew Johnny’s body temperature ran a few degrees hotter than most people’s, but the day when the back of his hand had briefly grazed over her chest while he reached past her to hand Bobby an apple, his contact burned. That night, after saying goodnight to Bobby-always with a chaste kiss, she didn’t trust her new found control enough to go further, yet-she had fallen back onto her bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking only of her boyfriend’s best friend’s hot hands.
After a few restless nights full of dreams that left her sheets sweat stained and her panties wetter still, she was forced to admit to herself that she was harboring a growing crush on the boy who control fire. She started to pay closer attention to him. Observation was easy: he had always hung around with Bobby and her. She began to notice little things she hadn’t before. The way, when he was nervous, he fiddled with his lighter, his tendency, when he was sitting in front of her, to look up and let a half-smile play across his lips. His beat up checkered vans, which she had never taken notice of before, became endearing to her, and her heart began to skip a beat whenever she came in from outside and saw them resting by the front door.
But, Rogue also noticed that, while he was always respectful of Bobby’s and her relationship, he often flirted with her. She had never been able to see the sly looks and winks he tossed her way. His grazing touches, she had always chalked up to clumsiness or accidental. Now, she saw that they happened much too often to qualify as either. And, they were becoming quite brazen, in her opinion. One night, while watching a movie, Johnny’s hand had passed the bowl of popcorn over Rogue to Bobby and had dropped his hand right above her knee. It had rested there much longer than usual. Another time, while talking about a recent danger room session, his hand had found its way to the strand of hair that had come out of her ponytail, and tucked it behind her ear for her. She knew the fact that her ears were burning had nothing to do with his burning heat. At night, she wondered if it could at all be possible that Johnny liked her, too. And if he did, could they ever be together without it killing Bobby? He had always been a good boyfriend, and, she supposed, a good friend to Johnny, and it caused her much guilt to know that she could be hurting him. But, every time she tried to resolve herself to think only of Bobby, it made it that much harder not to think about his friend instead.
A few weeks of near painful self control later, Rogue found herself alone with the boy who had been in possession of so many of her thoughts. Bobby had gone home to see some friends for a long weekend, and Rogue and Pyro were spending the night sitting on one of the mansion’s balconies and drinking beer she had pilfered from Logan.
“Are you sure he’s ok with you taking these?” Johnny asked as he popped the top of his 4th can of Molson.
“Well, he lets me drink in his room, and he’s implied that I can help myself,” shrugged Rogue.
“Implied?”
“Well, maybe I just inferred. Anyway, it doesn’t seem like it’s stopping you,” she said as she finished her can.
He chuckled as he tossed her another. “I just want to make sure I’m not gonna get kebabed for drinking Wolverine’s beer. He’s not as …accommodating…to the rest of us as he is to you, Roguey.”
Rogue laughed. “Maybe if you just tried to get closer to him. He’s a good guy.”
“Maybe to you. But I lack the, hmmm, how do I put this? Charm. I lack the charm you have,” said Johnny, emphasizing charm in a way that told Rogue he really meant something else. She raised an eyebrow at him, a trait she had picked up from Logan.
“Oh, come on, Roguey, you know what I’m talking about,” Johnny said, scooting his Adirondack chair closer to hers. “You’re a cute girl. Something he can take care of.”
“Cute girl?” Rogue felt herself blush a little. Johnny had, in a backhanded way, called her cute.
“Oh, don’t give me that. You know you’re a knock out. I…” Johnny paused, looking hard at her, “I…fuck, well, let’s just say Bobby’s a lucky guy.” And with that he slumped back into his chair and took a large swig of beer.
Rogue continued to stare at him. What the hell had that been about? Moving her own Adirondack over to close the gap between them, she leaned over. He gave her a sidelong glance. She could see that he was fidgeting with his lighter.
“Show me a trick Johnny,” she requested. She always loved watching the firey stunts he could pull off, especially at night.
He smirked, and performed a Zippo lighter trick. “There you go.”
Rogue pouted at him. He had shown her how to do that very same trick months ago, his warm hands guiding hers as she fumbled the first few times.
“No, a real trick,” she pleaded, placing her hand on his hand that held his lighter. He stared at her, then grinned rakishly.
“And what’ll ya give me for it?”
She giggled. “I don’t know. What’s the going rate for fire tricks these days?” Their faces were very close.
“How about a kiss?” Johnny said nervously.
Rogue was taken aback, but not unpleasantly so. “Ok, we’ll see.”
“We’ll see?” Johnny mocked. “All right…” he flipped open his lighter and sent a stream of fire out into the night. It exploded in streaks, not unlike a little firework. “What does that get me?”
Rogue bit her lip, steeled herself, leaned forward and pecked him on the corner of his mouth.
“Is that it?” he whispered.
“I’ve seen that trick before,” teased Rogue.
She could see him thinking. Then he said, “How’s this?” and let out a longer stream of fire, which then curled and wrapped until it spelled R-o-g-u-e. The letters hung in the air for a few seconds, then faded into the night. Rogue gave a little gasp at the sheer intricacy of the trick, and the audacity behind it. But, she was more than willing to pay up.
It wasn’t just a peck, this time. Her lips found his in the dark, and when they reached their target, they stayed there. Awkwardly leaning over the sides of their chairs, they continued to kiss, relieving a tension neither had truly known the weight of until it was gone. Rogue opened her mouth and allowed Johnny’s tongue to snake past her lips in into its dark recesses. His hand reached up to cup her face, and he leaned in, further deepening their kiss.
After a few minutes, they broke away from each other, panting slightly. Rogue could only stare at his eyes, darkened with lust.
“Rogue,” he began, searching her face for direction. He gave her one of his crooked smiles, the kind she loved. “Tell me that wasn’t just a payment for a pyrotechnical show.”
She shook her head. “Johnny, I have been waiting to do that for,” she considered, “well, maybe not a looong time, but for at least some time now.”
He smiled and put a hand through her long dark tresses before leaning towards her again. “You’ve gotten really good with controlling your power, Roguey.” And he kissed her again.
Suddenly, a noise from within the mansion forced them to remember where they were. Or, more importantly who they were.
“What about Bobby?”
Rogue searched her thoughts and her heart. “I don’t know, Johnny. It’s nice with him, but lately, it’s seemed like he’s been fading. Or at least what I felt for him once.” She got up out of the chairs and stood, leaning against the balcony. “And, he’s certainly been eclipsed by thoughts of someone else recently.”
Johnny had gotten up to join her. He placed his hands on her waist, and drew her close to him. Their bodies were flush together. “And who, pray tell is that?” he whispered, his hands wandering around to the small of her back. They rested there, splayed, so that the ends of his long fingers reached the upper part of her bottom.
Rogue turned and nuzzled his neck, whispering, “His best friend,” into his ear before flicking his earlobe with the tip of her tongue as if to punctuate her statement. She felt him take a ragged breath against her. She could also feel something else indicating his evident arousal. She giggled.
He gave her is lusty look, and grabbed her hand. “I think we should go inside,” he said.
“I think that’s a good idea,” she agreed, and allowed herself to be led in, never noticing the light that had just flared from another balcony. It was small, no more than a pin prick in the darkness, about the size of a cigar end.
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Story Notes:
Ok, here are the haps. Recently, I've been having a HUGE Pyro moment. I know, I know, I never thought I would ever love a ship more than Rogan, but I gotta say, Ryro is putting up a good fight. Then, while listing to The Boss, I was smacked in the face with a story. So here it is.
Author's Chapter Notes:
This takes place between X1 and X2.
Chapter End Notes:
And there yah have it. It'll be a little bit before I can update, although the next chapter is already in process. I'm visiting the beau hunk this weekend, and I will probably be spending my time lovin', rather than writing.