It started simple enough, like most monumental changes in anyone's life. Why on earth, after knowing the Wolverine for three years, I suddenly took a keen interest in his well-being is beyond me. I'd long ago grown out of my hero worship of him. Well, nearly grown out of it.
At first I did stupid things, like making sure he got veggies with his steak or pestering him if I thought he wasn't getting enough rest. That graduated into making him eat said veggies and checking up on him after missions.
It all started to unravel one fateful day when I woke up at an ungodly hour so I would have plenty of time to lounge around and psych myself up to shop with Jubilee at the "sale of the year". While rummaging around the kitchen looking for a quick breakfast, I heard the Blackbird land. I swiftly made toast, grabbed two mugs of coffee and headed for Logan's room.
He was already in the shower, but grunted his thanks when handed the coffee. I suppose I should've felt weird that Logan often didn't seem concerned with his lack of clothes around me. He was so casual about it and, never completely nude, I usually didn't notice his state of dress or undress.
Don't look at me that way; I really didn't notice what he was wearing when he was fully clothed.
He stuck his head out from behind the curtain, "Toast?" He eyed me suspiciously.
"There's no cinnamon sugar on it, ya' big baby." I held it up for his inspection. He chomped down before ducking back into the shower with it.
"What you up so early for, Marie?" Logan asked with a full mouth.
"I promised Jubes I'd go shopping with her. I think it's going to be an all day expedition." I couldn't help the heavy sigh that escaped.
"You're going to need more than coffee and toast to keep up with Jubilee," he said with a laugh.
"Yeah, you want to go down and make me breakfast?" I asked, walking to the bedroom as he turned the water off.
After a minute, Logan exited the bathroom with damp hair and the towel wrapped around his waist. Presenting no show of false modesty, the towel hit the floor as he got into bed. "You going to stand there and stare at me while I sleep?"
It took me a second to register what he was saying. I shook my head at him, feeling the burn on my cheeks. "You're a naughty boy, Logan."
He threw me a wolfish grin that made my insides do strange things. "Blame it on lack of sleep."
"Ah, poor baby." Stepping up to the bed, I tucked him in like one might a very young child, complete with a kiss on the forehead.
I must have lingered too long because I felt gentle fingers on my neck, guiding my lips lower to meet his. Logan let me hover a second, sharing the same air, before becoming insistent on a kiss.
I'd always wondered how good a kisser he was, and he was more than willing to show me. He started with small flicks of his tongue that turned into larger sweeps. It was almost like he was tasting me to see if it matched with the way I smelled. He wasn't a passive kisser, but instead gave better than he got. And at that moment I was determined to make it one great kiss.
That was until he distracted me with those same gentle fingers, exploring the skin where my t-shirt had ridden up. Then I discovered myself lying underneath him.
It was an odd sort of thing, because the last memory I had was of leaning over him, contemplating how nice his strong hands felt on the small of my back. Then without knowing how it came to be, I strangely found myself stripped down to my shirt, eagerly helping Logan pull it over my head.
I started to think there was some kind of time continuity problem centered on Logan's room. It was like I blinked and there was a jump in time. One minute he's kissing me, the next he's kneeling above me rolling on a condom; and I don't remember him stopping to grab one.
As I was lying there watching him, trying to figure this all out, he looked at me. There's that same grin again; the one I was still trying to qualify what exactly it made my insides do, and boom...I don't care about the time problem anymore.
He's over me settling between my thighs, and then he's there. All the way there. I'm looking everywhere but at him and attempting not to move. He rests his forehead on mine; giving out a little sigh of...relief, frustration...I can't tell.
I'm perplexed. I was expecting pain and other unpleasantries. Yet there was none of that, only a feeling of discomfort that was slowly being replaced by something else entirely.
"You should have told me." Logan whispered.
"It didn't seem important a minute ago." He half laughed. "Would it have made a difference?" I asked.
He was silent a minute. Knowing Logan, he was running through all the different scenarios. "No, probably not."
I wish I could say the whole experience was glorious, but it wasn't. Don't get me wrong, it was amazing. But I spent way too much time worrying over where to put my hands, if my feet were too cold or if I had shaved my legs recently.
Somewhere during all of it, I decided I needed a full head examination, because time jumped again and I was suddenly curled up next to Logan, feeling all content and tired. I looked at his clock to decide on how much time I was missing when it dawned on me.
"Shit, I have to meet Jubes in a half hour."
I artfully dodged a hand that was aiming to spank me as I scrambled over him out of bed. The hand finally found its target after I forgot to dodge in the search from my clothes. I was wrestling with the drawstring on my sleeping pants as I practiced the best exit lines I could think of. Lameness won out. "Thanks, Logan."
He must not have noticed as he mumbled a sleepy, "Not a problem, darlin'."
~*~
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Story Notes:
Thank you to my lovely betas RogueLotus, SJ, Jamie, and Margaret. I'm really sorry about killing Rogue in my last story and hope this helps make up for it. Almost forgot a thank you to Goodkarmaplease for giving it an approving nod when I thought the fic was dead.
No characters were hurt in the making of this fic, but some might need a nap.
No characters were hurt in the making of this fic, but some might need a nap.