Morning will come,
And I'll do what's right;
Just give me till then
To give up this fight.
Rogue studied Logan's tall frame stretched out on the couch. She'd almost jumped when she first spied him there in the morning light. Damned if she had yet to figure out how he kept getting into her apartment. This time he'd entered in the middle of the night, she hadn't even noticed until she walked through the living area on her way to make coffee.
Judging by the rips in his shirt and the stains on his pants, he'd been in an altercation last night. When breakfast was ready she called him. He'd mumbled something incoherent and rolled to his side. She let him be while she went about her morning routine.
Last month, when she'd gone away on business, she'd used their time apart wisely. She'd detached herself from any emotions her mutation had picked up from Logan. Those were his thoughts and feelings, not hers.
In the past, Rogue had been accused of being emotionally distant and lacking sympathy. She was sure it often seemed that way, but emotions and sympathy got in the way of analyzing a situation, kept a project from the desired outcomes. Emotions were a weakness and Wolverine of all people should understand that.
Despite him wanting a discussion when she came back, he seemed accepting enough of their current situation. Why would he want to upset the apple cart reaching for something that might be unattainable? It was best to leave good enough alone.
She'd acquiesced to his presence in her life, not an easy thing for her. Didn't grumble at his feet on the coffee table or his watching hockey. Who knew there was so much hockey on TV? In fact she'd allowed the bag he'd dropped beside the dresser to stay. The bag didn't demand conversation; it was a simple statement of the fact that he would occasionally need fresh clothes when at her apartment.
Mid-morning, Logan finally stretched and appeared a little less like a corpse. Walking over, she handed him a fresh cup of coffee after he sat up. "Long night?"
"You could say that." He gulped down the coffee, ignoring the burn, and raised an eyebrow at Marie's quizzical expression.
"Is that you?" she asked, leaning in and sniffing.
"Uh yeah, the rain took care of the worst of it."
"Must have been some fight?" She'd wanted a kiss, but was thinking it might not be such a good idea.
"Nah, short and messy. Best take a shower." He stopped at the kitchen to refill his cup and grab the bacon left on the counter before moving on to the bathroom.
"Do I need to wipe down my couch?" she yelled, after him.
When he exited the bathroom, Marie was laying on the bed flipping through a magazine. Turning her head slightly, she raked her eyes down his body, biting her lip at the thought of a clean Logan.
"You could have joined me," he said, eyes sliding down her nude backside. She'd gone back to 'reading' the magazine, although he could smell her growing arousal.
"Sounds nice, but not in that dinky little shower." Lazily she flipped a page, "You could lose the towel and join me."
Marie was obviously in a mood to play and he didn't mind. "I don't know, you look pretty engrossed in that article."
"You could try a distraction." She emphasized the last part by wiggling her bottom.
"I'll think about it." Logan could hear the almost silent huff as he turned back to the bathroom to hang up his towel.
She had a small smile of triumph on her lips when he returned to lie on his side next to her. However, he wasn't going to make it that easy on her, he was determined to get her to talk about something deeply personal. He made sure he wasn't touching her and waited until her smile faded in uncertainty. "Tell me what you want."
Rogue blinked several times, she rarely talked during sex. He always seemed to instinctively know how to make her feel good. She'd never though of telling him what turned her on. "You know… ," she felt her face flush.
"Maybe I want to hear you say it." It was barely a whisper against her ear, causing a shiver to run down her spine. He pulled the magazine from her and tossed it on the floor. "Tell me."
Closing her eyes, she fought back the nervousness rising in her stomach. It was just sex, she could do this. "I like when…your big, warm hands are on my ass." The last part came out in a rush before she lost her nerve.
Logan placed a hand on her butt cheek, fondling it. "Like this."
"Yes, both." She moaned softly as he kneaded the other cheek. It was like telling closely held secrets. She knew Logan wouldn't kiss and tell; otherwise she wouldn't even attempt this. "Spank?" she whispered.
He growled quietly at her sharp intake of breath, after the distinct sound of his hand on her flesh. There was more he wanted to do, but he waited silently, resting his hand on the swell of her buttocks.
Rogue lowered her head to the pillow, face turned away from him. Exhaling, she said, "You're too far away."
He inched closer, pressing his erection into her hip and letting his breath caress her shoulder. What was this thing he did to her? He was always pushing her limits until she willingly stepped out of her comfort zone.
Sex with Logan was never monotonous. Hesitating in thought, she was unsure what she wanted. No one had ever asked her what she wanted, especially sexually. He was the first person she'd known that kept her interests in mind in every situation.
Confronted with making a choice, she was uncertain if she could even tell him out loud. Keep it simple, she told herself.
"Lower…move your hand lower." Rogue hoped his enhanced hearing would enable him to decipher what she knew to be barely audible.
Logan let his hand drift over the rise of her buttocks, pausing at her inner thigh until she moved her leg allowing further access. "Mmm…" His pace was agonizingly slow, but the way his fingers followed every dip and curve of her body kept her silent.
Marie lifted her hips up slightly, but he refused to do anything more than tangle his fingers in her curls. He knew she wanted more; he could feel the rising tension in her body that matched the heat of her arousal. It was important that he remain patient, this was turning out to be almost as difficult for her as admitting that she possessed emotions.
She gave a small-frustrated sound. "My…" she felt the burn spread across her face again, "…clit."
He parted her moist folds to circle a finger around her clit. Even though she sighed with pleasure, it only wound the tension higher.
Hoping Logan would take nonverbal directions, she rose up on her knees while pushing him to kneel behind her. "Please," she whimpered, "slowly."
He did as instructed, sliding into her wet heat and setting a slow rhythm that made her moan. She gripped the sheets tightly, he knew even though this was pleasurable for them both; it wasn't necessarily bringing her toward climax. Stopping, he leaned over. "Marie, what do you need?"
Resting on her elbows, she enjoyed the feeling of him pressed so closely to her. She didn't want to change positions, but her mind was muddled. "I…I don't know…"
Slipping a hand across her stomach, his fingers rubbed against her clit. He was rewarded with a gasp and a buck of her hips. "Yesss," she hissed through clenched teeth.
A few more careful strokes with his fingers and she muffled her cry into the pillow as she spasmed around him. He remained still while her breathing returned to normal.
Repositioning herself on her hands and knees, she glimpsed Logan over her shoulder. His eyes were tightly shut and jaw set. She moved experimentally, his hands gripping her hips. Soon he began to move with her.
"No," she stopped. "I want you to stay still."
His eyes snapped open, catching her looking at him over her shoulder. He grinned at her. "Okay."
She began rocking back and forth, setting a pace that made him grip her hips even tighter. When it became apparent he was having a difficult time not moving, she began to slam into him causing him to grunt. "Come for me."
Surprised by his obedience, she didn't complain as he rode out his own orgasm by thrusting into her. Her knees gave way and he rolled to the side to lie next to her. It took several minutes for their breathing to calm.
"See, talking wasn't that difficult."
Rogue knew what he getting at. "It's not the same thing."
"Why not?" he asked. "They're both about a feeling, a need."
She had no answer for him.
After lunch, Logan lay on the couch flipping through TV channels. Rogue joined him, molding her body to fit his, pulling his free arm around her. "Oh, that looks good."
"It looks cheesy," he commented, before finding a hockey game.
"Ugh, hockey." She mocked him by making noises as if she were dying.
He chuckled but continued to watch the game. "I could teach you the finer points of the sport."
"No, thanks." She began rubbing against him, moving his hand to her breast. "You could teach me the finer points of something else."
Logan threw a leg over her lower body drawing her tighter, restricting her movements. Placing a kiss on the crown of her head, he said, "We could simply enjoy the time together."
Sighing, she added, "We could talk."
Immediately, he shut the TV off and rearranged them so he was on his back and she was cradled in the crook of his arm. Rogue was shocked at the suddenness with which he gave her his undivided attention. Though, she supposed she shouldn't be, he'd tried to start serious conversations several times in the past month that she'd avoided like the plague.
Idly, she played with his hand. He was good with his hands, very good. They fascinated her.
She remembered watching the X-Men once when she was younger from a distance. Mystique had used it as a training exercise, pointing out the different X-Men and their abilities and weaknesses. Wolverine had been singled out as "that son of a bitch". Rogue knew even then it was because he was so deadly when he popped the claws.
Yet she lay there now, tracing between his knuckles with a finger, she knew his hands were skilled in other ways too. Such conflicting information, pleasure and pain, all encased in such a nice package.
"Can I see them?"
Logan moved the hand she'd been playing with away from her and let the claws slide out. Her eyes widened; he'd forgotten that this Marie had never seen them up close.
She examined them carefully, running a finger along the spine, heel to the sharp tip. "They're warm." He couldn't watch as she slipped her finger back down the face toward his hand. "Do they hurt? When they come out."
"Every time."
She furrowed her brow, but said nothing as he flexed and the blades slid back in. Resting her head on his shoulder, she took his hand again and inspected it even closer. "Tell me how we met in the old timeline."
"You could take a look." He offered it as a simple solution to the question, though he hoped if she did it might solve their other problems.
"No, I'd prefer to hear you tell the story." Rogue didn't want her head flooded with someone else's emotional baggage. Especially Logan's, not now that she had cleared her mind of his feelings.
She listened to the story unfold, from Canadian bar to Statue of Liberty. Propping herself upon his chest, she looked him in the eye. "You did not save my life that many times."
He laughed, "I did." Holding his hand up, he added, "Scout's honor."
"Why would you do that?" She studied him closely. He shrugged, but she saw the lines around his eyes soften. She braced herself for the words that never came. The moment passed and still she waited, her only reward was a lopsided grin.
Finally, she laid her head down on his chest. She listened to his heartbeat steadily, but the muscle in her chest, that only circulated blood, had faltered. There was something wrong with hers and she didn't know why it would choose this moment to stop working properly. It had never shown sighs of being faulty before today.
Maybe if she lay quietly for a while longer her heart would start working again. She was concerned that it had some how been crushed or that she was having a heart attack. Surely, Logan would inform her if her heart had stopped beating.
Logan looked down at her resting peacefully in his arms. He wished it could be like this between them all the time. No matter what he did Marie wouldn't discuss their relationship. She never seemed to be able to find peace in her life.
Since she'd come back over a month ago, he'd tried to play along. He'd worked hard to be content with merely being with her, thinking if he kept telling her he loved her, she'd come around.
There was a time in his life when sex had been enough in a relationship, but he found that was no longer true. Loving Marie and being loved by her had turned his old life on its ear. He knew he couldn't keep going like they were. It hurt too much. The knife piercing his heart only drove deeper with a twisting motion. This was the worst pain he'd ever suffered.
~*~
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000