She would swear until her dying day that she didn't hear anything, see anything, or smell anything. She did not poke her head out of her door just a little to see what the noise in the hall was. She minded her own business, turned in the opposite direction as that intriguing noise, and kept walking until she reached the other end of the house. Eventually, she was even able to convince herself that that was really what happened—at least sometimes.
Then again, Jean was never very good at lying to herself.
At first she thought she was hallucinating, maybe due to the extreme heat of the day and despite the air conditioning. After all, on any normal day around the mansion you would not run the risk of seeing a shirtless Logan and a bikini-clad Rogue making out in the hallway. You would not see them break apart and then move, arms wrapped around each other's waists, disappearing into his room. You also would not see him look at her with a mixture of tenderness and no-holds-barred lust as he closed the door. After her initial shock, Jean began to worry that they might be operating under the influence of too much alcohol. Granted, it was a little early in the day by her standards, but it was also a Saturday and time of day had never stopped either Logan or Rogue before. Since the amount of alcohol they would have to consume to have them acting like lovers instead of best friends would probably fill the building to the rafters, Jean felt she should check. That would be a lot of alcohol, and would probably put Rogue, at least, close to alcohol poisoning. So she crept forward a few steps, as quietly as possible, and sniffed. The only scent she was able to make out was suntan lotion. No alcohol fumes. So what was going on?
Wait. That was a giggle. Granted, it wasn't the sound of complete inebriation she had expected, but could it be an indication that Rogue, at least, wasn't in her right mind in this new development? Should she save them from themselves before it was too late?
“Sugar, I liked that bathing suit!” Rogue was squealing from behind Logan's door. Jean's eyes widened. That was quick! Granted, her bikini hadn't consisted of much material, but still...!
Jean felt she really should leave, go...somewhere. Where, she wasn't sure. Just not where she was, rooted to the floor outside of Logan's room, listening to the most astonishing thing since St. John and Bobby came out as a couple.
“Darlin', you and I both know you didn't buy that thing to swim in it. If a couple quick tugs could break those strings, there's no way they would last in water.” Logan's voice was rough, and Jean was left with a mental image she'd really rather not have.
At least Rogue wasn't trying to deny anything there.
“Oh, God, Logan...ummm...yeah, right there, sugar...oooooh, oooh that feels...gooooood...please, Logan, please! Mmmm, YES!”
Jean knew she should move. Now. Only her feet seemed to disagree, and really, where else was she going to get some entertainment like this with Scott away on a trip with the Professor?
“You like that, Marie?”
Jean had always thought Logan's growl was a little sexy, but damn, that one was a whole new level. And Marie? What was with that?
“Just about as much as you're gonna enjoy this, sugar.”
Rogue's voice was pure sin. Then Jean heard the rasp of a zipper and really, really knew she should move. Dammit, really, feet, get going! There! Ha! One inch!
“Oh, yeah, baby...Marie, just...God, that's good...how did you...shit, Marie, your tongue...just like that, baby, just like...fuck yes!”
God, had Logan just...?
“Mmm, you taste so good, Logan. Let's get on over to the bed now, sugar...”
Yeah, guess he did.
“Fuck the bed, darlin'!” There was one soft thud, followed by another.
“Yeah, sugar, the floor works, too.” A low laughed echoed out in the hall, followed by a growl that made Jean's knees weak.
She no longer tried to move even though there was no reason for her to stay, no alcohol-induced insanity for her to stop before it broke up one of the closest friendships on the team. They obviously knew what they were doing...Why did she just lean against the wall and listen to the moans and sighs and murmurs, the sound of flesh hitting flesh for only God knew how long, arms crossed and wrapped around her waist? Was it just shock? Temporary insanity? How much of this would she deny later? And when the hell was Scott going to get home?
Then the moans turned to cries, shrieks, and Jean's head snapped back up in surprise. Wow, was this what she had to look forward to for the rest of her life, living next to these two if...
“Yes, yes, please, Logan...oh, my God yes! Right fucking there! YES!”
Apparently, Logan wasn't the talker of the two at the end. Jean just wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing for her future.
A few more low murmurs, then, “You know, sugar, I think your healing factor has to be one of my favorite things about you right now!”
Oh, no! Were they going to go at it again? Jean somehow found her feet again, confirmed that her knees weren't as wobbly as she feared, and then practically ran the few steps back to her room. She was sitting on her bed still trying to get over what she had heard when she realized something.
Logan and Rogue's first time together might have only been audible to her while she stood out in the hall, but their second time was so loud the entire mansion probably heard. Hell, Scott and the Professor probably heard it in Washington D.C.!