Author's Chapter Notes:
It's about to get a whole lot hotter out there...
Rogue was pissed, and when Rogue got pissed, people tended to stay out of her way. It wasn't that she was physically violent towards innocent parties, although she sometimes threw a few punches during the right kind of fights outside of combat practice. It wasn't that she yelled—she actually rarely did, and then you knew you were in for it. Maybe it was the look in her eyes or the smirk that curled her lips even though it was obvious she was angry. Maybe it was just a vibe that radiated off of her that Bad Things Were About To Happen or Careful Or I'll Sear You With My Pinky Finger. Whatever the reason, only a few people were brave enough to approach Rogue when she was like that.

So when Rogue stepped out of her room wearing nothing but a few tiny triangles of black cloth, a sheer green wrap around her waist, and a come-and-get-it gleam in the dark eyes smoldering over that smirk, those wise enough to want to live made mental notes to stay out of her way for the rest of the day. When Jubilee joined her in the hall dressed in a matching bikini topped with a yellow wrap and sheer determination in the set of her chin, the halls quickly emptied. Those who caught sight of the smile the two women shared before they started downstairs knew that they had definite goals in mind, goals that might get someone in trouble or seriously injured by the end of it, and they gladly shared what they saw with anyone they encountered as they made their way to the rooms of those students whose rooms (and thus windows) faced the pool. Such students saw a drastic increase in visitors as many scrambled to get good views of whatever was about to go down.

The observers watched as Rogue and Jubilee approached the mostly-deserted pool area, chose loungers side by side and laid them flat, then paused for a moment of intense discussion. Each woman then untied her wrap, spread it over her preferred lounger, and laid down on top. Appreciative viewers noticed how, once settled, their backs were arched slightly, legs stretched out a few inches apart with one knee bent just so, hair spilled across the colorful backdrops their wraps had become. It was very apparent that the friends were waiting for something—but what?

The small groups in each room decided to set up sentries to watch for any movement by the pool while the rest got up to normal summer weekend mischief. After several false alarms, the real show began when Logan and Remy, definitely an odd pair, stalked out to the pool area. There was no other way to describe it. They, too, obviously had a purpose. Logan was wearing only a pair of jeans that rode almost indecently low on his hips, while Remy was similarly shirtless but in swimming trunks. Since they made a beeline for the supposedly oblivious duo glistening with suntan oil and sweat by the pool, the observers knew that the game was on.

Rogue let herself lay back and relax as much as the tension coursing through her body allowed. Eyes closed, smirk barely visible, she knew she looked hot. Hell, she looked sensational, a living, breathing advertisement for SEX. So was Jubilee. Hadn't most of the men and boys they'd passed leaving the mansion confirmed that with their hungry, if wary, eyes? Only she hadn't seen the specific pair that she was looking for, or Jubilee's desired pair, which only served to bring the annoyance factor up a notch. There she was, all laid out and tasty-looking, but he wasn't around to appreciate it. Typical. It was always either his stubborn oblivion or his absence that managed to raise her hackles the highest.

“How long do you think this is going to take, chica?” Jubilee's patience had never been epic.

“Settle, babe. They'll hear, and they'll come out to play. They're that type,” Rogue reassured her. She knew it was true, too. Both men were alphas, needing to be dominant in all things, which is why they rarely got along.

Rogue turned her concentration back to the scents around her. Sometimes she could still access that part of Logan's mutation, even though it had been more than two years since the last time she had been injured badly enough to allow him to touch her so that she could absorb his healing abilities. It required focus to gain those enhanced senses again, however dimly, so she rarely bothered. They were downwind of all the approaches from the mansion, though, so it was worth it to try. Rogue did her best to control her focus, and within minutes she was rewarded. That unique blend of his very male scent, cigar smoke and motor oil filled her nostrils, causing them to flare briefly, delicately. She restrained the wicked smile that wanted to break free. Instead, she quietly hummed a bar or two of Jubilee's favorite song. That was the tip off that at least Logan was nearby.

“Good morning, mes beautÚs,” came a cheerful greeting in a New Orleans accent Rogue always thought was a little too thick. Was it her imagination, or did Logan growl warningly. Hmmm...So, Remy and Logan were approaching, apparently together. She wasn't sure what to make of that since the two men weren't exactly friends, but it was too late to worry about it.

Allowing her head to tilt up so that she wouldn't receive the full glare of the overhead sun, Rogue cracked one eye partly open. Then she allowed both eyes to widen in appreciation, making sure to keep her gaze firmly on Logan although she smugly noticed that both men were shirtless. All the better for their plan.

Watching Logan draw closer wasn't exactly a difficult thing to do, all told, especially with the way her sadly undersexed brain wanted to keep staring at that tanned expanse of flesh, muscle, and thick dark hair that he called a chest. It was a chest she'd often itched to touch, especially now that she could without killing him.

Raising herself up until she rested on one elbow, her body turned toward him and practically begging to be stroked, Rogue smiled lazily. She knew without looking that Jubilee was performing a similar, but not identical maneuver in the direction of Remy, who had completely bypassed Rogue, probably a good idea from the way Logan was looking at her. Rogue was proud of Jubilee and herself. They had practiced these moves, and there were definite signs that they were working.

Rogue's “Hey, Logan,” was a few seconds ahead of Jubilee's “Hi, Remy.”

Rogue allowed her gaze to finally travel up Logan's chest to his face, and what she saw there made her breath catch for a moment before she managed to remember how to breathe. His eyes traveled up and down her body, taking in the blatantly uncovered curves and hollows, the wonderful golden color she'd managed to acquire in the months since she gained control of her mutation. Rogue wanted to preen more, but she stopped herself just in time. She was getting what she wanted, after all, and there was no need to clue him in on just how much effort was being put into this show. As long as the ends justified the means...and there was no way the mind behind those hot eyes was thinking anything remotely like platonic thoughts. A small part of her own mind jumped up and down in a happy dance, but she was pretty sure she was able to hide all that, even from those knowing eyes. Logan's smirk appeared, so she sent him one right back, just this side of a leer.

“Hey, darlin',” his voice was gruff but filled with the same heat that smoldered in his eyes as they wandered down her body again, more slowly this time. Rogue was pretty sure she had forgotten how to breathe by the time his gaze met hers again.

Yes, when he crouched down beside her and brushed a strand of white hair off of her shoulder before trailing one knuckle over her collarbone and down the curve of her breast, she definitely was not breathing. Oh, no. No time for sophistication, no time for seduction. Just a quick punch to the gut and the incredibly strong urge to grab him and go somewhere private right now. Or not even go anywhere, just grab him, throw him down, and demand that he make her scream his name until she was hoarse.

Somewhere between her eyes crossing from lust-filled thoughts and his chuckle, Rogue remembered to inhale oxygen. It was close, though. Very close.

She put that new-found oxygen to good use before she forgot again, especially with Logan right there, inches away with all that wonderful skin... “So, do you have any plans today, Logan?”

He leaned forward until his lips were just grazing her ear. Yes, definite eye-crossing again. “The only plans I have, Marie, involve, you, me, and a bed. All. Day. Long.”

Breathing would be good. Being able to see straight would be good. Then again, she could just let Logan pull her to her feet, wrap forgotten, Jubilee and Remy forgotten. After that she could let him lead her back inside. Oh, yeah, she could do that.

The older students had their hands over the eyes of the younger, more impressionable ones by the time Logan and Rogue ended their show and headed back into the mansion. Of course, Jubilee and Remy were still out there, one still reclined seductively, the other whispering in her ear and dropping kisses onto waiting lips. By the time they followed the other couple in, some of the students had definitely broadened their educational horizons. No one was brave enough, however, to leave the safety of their groups until they heard two doors firmly shutting within minutes of each other. Hopefully, the four would never realize that their entire public seduction scene had been avidly watched by a majority of the student body.

'Cause then there would be hell to pay, and no one wanted to face six adamantium claws, deadly skin, exploding fireballs and exploding playing cards all at once. No, siree.
Chapter End Notes:
Did you really think that there would be any swimming? I'm too nice for that. Despite what so many people seem to think, chlorine is NOT good for delicate body parts. So they're gonna find a nice comfy bed, dammit, away from prying eyes.
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