Fic: Complications 1/3 [L/R] - NC-17
- Title: Complications
Author: Victoria P. [victoria_p@...]
Rating: NC-17 Language and sex.
Summary: Logan and Rogue have sex. And then things get complicated.
Disclaimer: I own not. You sue not. All songs belong to their respective
owners, none of whom are me.
Archive: If you want it, I aint gonna say no. Just drop me a line to tell
me where its living.
Feedback: Me = Feedback whore
Notes: Im in a very strange mood. I think its the caffeine and the lack of
sleep. This was originally supposed to be PWP, but then a little bitty plot
snuck in. A really itty bitty plot. I mean, like, a microscopic plot. <g>
Also, this has only been gone over once. I'm impatient and got the itchy
posting feeling, so all mistakes should be laid directly at my door. Thanks
to Jen, Meg, Dot and Pete for your support.
< > indicates thoughts
~ ~ indicates telepathic conversation
Logan looked at the woman sleeping in bed next to him and wondered how it
all got so complicated.
He'd come back to Xavier's School after a year of cold leads and frustrating
dead ends. He and the kid had become friends, something he'd never really
expected or experienced.
She got over her crush on him enough to date Bobby for two years, losing her
virginity to Popsicle Boy on the night of their high school graduation. She
had consulted with Logan first about the best ways to go about such an
important undertaking. He'd worried about her and given her the best advice
he could, which basically amounted to, "Use a condom and tell him if he
hurts you, I'll kill him."
She and Bobby drifted apart once he went away to college, while she stayed
at the mansion and went to school locally.
She took up with Remy. That didn't last, since that boy couldn't seem to
keep it in his pants, and he had execrable taste in women, Marie excepted.
Logan had had more than one confrontation with the Cajun, where claws were
extended and warnings given.
He knew she'd dated guys in college. Even brought one or two of them home
for his approval. They'd show up and he'd look them over from a corner of
the living room while they waited for Marie to get dressed. If they managed
not to piss themselves, and showed a sufficient interest in hockey, they
usually got his okay.
She graduated college and joined the X-Men and he really couldn't stop her,
though he'd tried to talk her out of it. He didn't like to see her taking
risks or in danger. He was still looking out for her, though six years had
passed since that day on the train when he promised to do so. She was the
one that had pulled him out of his meaningless existence; she was his best
friend and his drinking buddy, and he never ever planned on that changing.
Even after they had sex.
He never planned on having sex with her, either. It just happened. They had
returned to the mansion after fighting a mutant terrorist group trying to
take over the Mexican government.
Logan was primed and ready for action. He always was, after a fight. It
didn't seem strange that Marie felt the same. After all, she had an awful
lot of him in her, even after all the years that had passed since that night
on the Statue of Liberty.
He had a routine after missions. He showered, dressed, and went looking for
a bottle of Wild Turkey and a willing woman. Neither was ever hard to find.
He just never expected it to be Marie this time.
They were lagging behind the others on the way to the locker room, rehashing
the fight, when she said, "Take me with you."
It was one of the few times she managed to surprise him. "What?"
"Wherever you go after this. I can't sleep. I'm too wired. It's still
early." She repeated herself. "Take me with you."
He could smell it on her, the adrenaline and the arousal -- it reminded him
of himself, and of himself inside her. Which was kind of a turn on, when he
thought of it that way. <Inside Marie,> he mused, for once not stopping his
mind from going where it usually went when he saw a beautiful woman.
He'd never allowed himself to think that way about her before. First,
because she'd been a kid, and he'd been responsible for her. And then
because it seemed strange to think of Marie as a sexual creature. Even
though he knew she was having sex, it never struck him as quite real -- he
figured parents probably felt that way about their children. But he never
thought of her as his daughter. Ever. If he had, nothing that followed would
have ever happened.
Occasionally he'd watch her in her lyrca gym clothes or in her leather
uniform, but he always stopped his mind from lingering on her generous
curves or her lush mouth. Until this time.
"Yeah," he said, a slow grin appearing on his face. "That'd be fun."
And it had been. They'd gone to a local tavern, instead of into the city as
he usually did. They'd shot a little stick, and a lot of bourbon, and then
suddenly she was on his lap in the booth, running her hands through his hair
as he whispered in her ear all the things he'd like to do to her.
They barely made it back to her room before he had her lying on the bed,
clothes off, his gloved fingers (he never went anywhere without gloves. It
was a silent testament to the strength of his feelings for her, and his
determination that she be treated as normally as possible whenever possible)
slipping easily into the wetness between her legs.
"Oh, Logan," she hissed and the sound of his name on her lips made him
harder than he already was. He stroked her until she came and he pressed
her face into his shoulder so no one could hear her scream.
She reached for the zipper on his jeans, undoing it with a flourish. She
pulled a condom from her night table drawer and lowered it onto him with her
"Where--" he gasped.
And she grinned around his hardness. Raising her head, she said, "You.
Stripper. Miami," before returning her mouth to his cock and teasing him
with her tongue.
He cursed when he thought about that later, because she'd lied to him. She'd
told him a long time ago that she didn't really have clear access to his
memories, just feelings and impressions, and this was a hell of a lot more
detailed than he expected.
But he wasn't really thinking right now.
He put a hand on the back of her neck and tried to control himself. He
didn't want to come in her mouth. That wasn't how he'd imagined it.
Sometimes things don't go the way you plan. She was better than he'd
expected, wrapping her tongue around him and scraping her teeth along the
sensitive underside of his penis. He couldn't hold on, thrusting himself
deeper into her mouth and shuddering as he came.
She smiled at him, and stretched like a cat as he disposed of the condom and
pulled out a new one.
"It's still early," he said, echoing her words. "We got lots of time." His
healing factor was very useful in these situations.
They did everything he'd whispered to her in the bar. Twice.
Then she'd rolled over and fell asleep, mumbling about how she had a class
to teach tomorrow, and she was probably going to be sore.
He lay awake, wondering if things were going to change between them. He
couldn't even blame it on alcohol, since he wasn't drunk. She wasn't either,
by the time they'd gotten home. He didn't want her to think he'd taken
advantage of her in any way.
He considered going back to his room. If it had been any other woman, in any
other circumstance, he wouldn't have thought twice. But this was Marie. He
wondered what it meant to her, what it meant for their relationship. <Don't
be such a fucking pansy,> he scolded himself. <We're friends. She knows this
didn't mean anything more than that.>
He spent the night there anyway, and woke her up with an early morning
display of his talents. She rolled over onto her stomach and he slid into
her from behind, glorying in her tightness as he set the rhythm that would
take them both home. She used a pillow to muffle her moans and he slid the
sheet over her shoulder and bit down hard when he came.
After resting for a few moments, they looked at each other.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Never better, sugar," she replied, smiling. She pulled his arm around her,
and snuggled. He'd kept his clothes on -- that was a first for her. Usually,
the men she'd been with had stripped and required her to remain covered. She
sighed contentedly. "This doesn't have to change things."
He smiled in return. "I knew you'd say that, darlin'." They lay silent for a
few minutes, then he got up and walked to the door. "See ya later?"
"We got sparring at three," she responded. "I wouldn't miss it for the
And he left, thankful that he'd found someone who understood.
Rogue stretched and felt her muscles pull. She was definitely sore, but it
was a good soreness. She thought about him and was glad she'd said the right
thing. She didn't want to lose his friendship. This had been an aberration,
based on adrenaline and alcohol, not love. For her as well as for him. She
understood that, understood him.
He needed this, and she was, first and foremost, his friend. She loved him,
always had, but had settled into comfortable companionship, since that was
what he wanted. She wasn't going to let sex get in the way.
She had fallen in love with Bobby and again with a guy named Alan from
college. Neither relationship had worked out, but not because of her
feelings for Logan. They just accepted that he was part of her life, and
never thought anything of it. That was how she always expected it to be. The
idea that he would fall in love with her had stopped being a part of her
fantasies a long time ago, and she wasnt going to start wishing for the
impossible now. Though shed never expected to sleep with him, she knew it
didnt mean to him what it meant to other people, and she wasnt going to
let herself be hurt when the relationship didnt blossom into something
They already had the best relationship anyone could ask for, and she didnt
want it to get complicated.
Rogue entered the dining room cautiously, wondering if anyone had any
inkling what had happened last night.
Ororo waved her over. "You look tired," the weather witch said by way of
"Thanks," Rogue responded wryly. "I can always count on you to give me the
news straight, 'Ro."
"Going out drinking with Logan isn't the best way to look refreshed," the
other woman replied. "Especially since you cannot keep up with him."
<That's what you think,> Rogue thought, struggling to keep from grinning
idiotically. She sighed with gusto. "It's not fair, is it," she said. This
was an old conversation.
Ororo laughed. "Life seldom is, Rogue."
They went on to discuss other things, mainly Ororo's rooftop garden and
Rogue's promise to help prune the roses later that day. Rogue realized that
nobody knew about her and Logan. Or if they did, they didn't care. Which
made her feel even better about the whole thing. Because once other people
got involved, things tended to get complicated.
They didn't become all about sex. In fact, it was months before they did it
again. And again, it was after a mission. They didn't even make it to her
room this time. He took her up against the wall in the garage, using a claw
to cut a hole in the crotch of her tights and panties and using the condom
in his wallet.
They giggled like schoolchildren playing a prank afterward. Well, Rogue did.
Logan would never do anything so girly as giggle. He chuckled manfully,
once. They felt like they were putting one over on everyone, though Logan
could smell sex in the garage for days afterward. It made him grin as he
worked on the bike.
They never talked about it, though, after it happened. It was just an
occasional bout of sex-play between friends. They didn't think of themselves
as a couple or as being "in love."
"We're friends who fuck," Logan told the bartender one night when asked
about the little hottie on his arm. Rogue had laughed at that description,
but it seemed apt.
What? he asked later, as they lay sweaty and content in her room. Thats
the truth, right? No bullshit for us, Marie. Were always straight with each
other. He raised himself up on one elbow and looked her in the eye, running
a leather-clad finger down her nose. Right?
She grinned. Right, sugar.
So it continued for a few months. He was seeing a woman in town. Rogue knew
about it, and tried not to let it bother her. It didnt bother her, she told
herself vehemently. This was exactly the sort of thing they were trying to
avoid. Jealousy would kill their friendship, and that was more important to
her than anything else in her life.
Keeping that in mind, she never commented on his activities with other
women, and made sure that she always had a handsome man on her arm at public
It was after one such occasion, a homecoming dance for the students, that
Rogue and Logan once again found themselves together and at loose ends. In
the past, he might have taken her out for a ride on the motorcycle, but now,
he just wanted to get her up to her room and ride her hard.
She knew what he was thinking when he looked at her *that* way -- his eyes
dark and intent. It was a look she could easily become addicted to. Had
become addicted to, if she was honest with herself. She tried not to think
about him looking at anyone else that way, though she was sure he did. When
she was honest with herself, she admitted she hated that idea.
She laughed and stretched ostentatiously. Good night, Ororo, Hank. Its
been a long day and Im exhausted. Im heading to bed.
Fifteen minutes later, he was at her door. His eyes widened in surprise when
she opened it.
"You went shopping," he commented appreciatively.
"You like it?" she asked, whirling.
She'd found the perfect outfit for a woman with deadly skin. It was a long
black negligee made of micromesh so fine that none of her skin was exposed,
but so sheer that she might as well have been naked. Long gloves of similar
material covered her arms, and her legs were encased in sheer black
pantyhose, slightly modified to suit the occasion.
"God, yeah," he growled, reaching for her.
He backed her up against the desk and easily lifted her onto it, standing
between her legs. He buried his face against her gauze-swathed neck, kissing
and biting until she was gasping for air.
She was always amazed at how, with just a look and a growl, Logan could make
her so wet. She'd had other lovers -- Bobby was inexperienced, Remy was
selfish, Alan, tender -- but sex with Logan was so far beyond what she'd
felt with them, that it couldn't even be compared. And it wasn't just
because he was so knowledgeable.
At moments like these she was able to admit to herself that there was
something between them that was more than simple companionship, but she was
afraid to say anything, afraid to start hoping. It had taken her a long time
to get over him the first time, and she didn't know if she'd make it if she
had to do it again.
But there was no time for thinking, not with his hips rocking into hers, and
his mouth -- oh, that hot and talented mouth -- latched onto one of her
nipples. It was like she wasn't wearing anything.
She arched into him, panting his name. She pulled his head up and floated
her scarf across his face so she could kiss him. She loved kissing him,
would even consider giving up the sex if she could spend the rest of her
life being able to kiss him without a barrier between them. Those were
dangerous thoughts and there was no time for that now, as his tongue thrust
into her mouth through the damp gauze and his teeth nipped at her lower lip.
One of his hands slid down her body to curl over her abdomen, his gloved
fingers finding the "modification" on her pantyhose.
He pulled back and grinned approvingly. "Good thinking, Marie," he murmured,
"though I kinda like havin' to rip holes in your clothes." And his fingers
were buried in the soft folds between her legs before she could respond. She
hissed his name as the pressure within her spiraled tighter.
"I want you inside me," she whispered, using one hand to unzip his jeans and
the other to grab his wallet and remove a condom. His only response was a
growl at the feel of her hand sliding up and down his hard shaft. She slid
the rubber on quickly and then wrapped her legs around his waist, brushing
the head of his cock with her warm, wet flesh. "Hard and fast," she
murmured, carefully taking his earlobe between her teeth, with no cloth
He thrust deep into her, his hands cupping her ass as she moved her hips in
time with his. She came in record time, biting her lip 'til it bled to keep
from screaming his name and letting the whole house know what they were up
to. His tongue flicked out and licked at her mouth, so quickly her deadly
skin didn't have time to respond, and then his hand pressed her face to his
still-covered shoulder as he felt himself fly apart, white lights exploding
behind his eyes, growling her name.
They stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity, though in reality it
was only a few seconds, her head resting on his shoulder, his chin on her
hair. Tenderness, a fierce desire to never let her go, welled up inside of
him, and he closed his eyes tighter, feeling his throat constrict. This was
a totally new thing, something he only ever felt with her, and it scared him
He carried her back to the bed and ran his hands over her body. They weren't
done, not by a long shot. He'd never been so happy having super-accelerated
healing as he was on nights with Marie.