Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.

FIC: Seasons of Growth Chapter 5

Expand Messages
  • novemberotica
    Title: Seasons of Growth Chapter 5: Not Waiting Author: November Tuesday Email: novemberotica@yahoo.com Rating: NC-17 for sex. Summary: Rogue refuses to
    Message 1 of 1 , Nov 25, 2003
    • 0 Attachment
      Title: Seasons of Growth
      Chapter 5: Not Waiting

      Author: November Tuesday

      Email: novemberotica@...

      Rating: NC-17 for sex.

      Summary: Rogue refuses to wait.

      Continuity: Series begins 3 years after X1.

      Disclaimer: Marvel, Fox, Brian Singer yadda yadda yaddaÂ…

      Archive: Sure, and if it's someplace other than list archives, please
      let me know.

      Feedback: is my lifeblood. Please please please!

      Author's Notes: Thanks to N. E. Star for beta.

      On the cool October days she went into the woods, curled up on the
      swing and watched the manic golden-green flutter of sun on leaves.
      Falling leaves, shaking leaves, moving shadows, texture behind her
      eyelids when she closed her eyes. She would read, or smoke cigars,
      blues deep and sorrowful in her discman, and think about her life.
      Think about things she needed, things she wanted.

      She was able to touch and be touched. The mirror told her that she
      had become lushly, darkly beautiful. She ached to be held by a lover,
      for the sweet brush of a kiss.

      His kiss. She hated herself for remembering him. For wanting him. For
      having loved him, three years ago when his senses and life force
      coursed through her, heightening her, making her experience the world
      with a new sharpness, making her pulse run a little faster.

      Still no letter, or postcard, or call. He had allowed himself to flow
      into her, then he left. When she thought about it anger filled her.

      Sometimes shen she turned and the wind was just so, and the smoke was
      wafting a certain way, she was sure she could smell him. But he was
      never there.

      It had been almost two years since she had last begged Xavier to use
      Cerebro to make sure Logan was still alive. She had only asked him
      three times, went to him full of shame when the fear consumed her,
      and each time it cost her something more.

      At some time the benefit of knowing that he was alive was outweighed
      by the cost of coming to Xavier and begging, of waiting outside the
      pneumatic doors with her hands in a knot, and she stopped asking.

      On occasion when using Cerebro he would come across Logan by
      accident. Every time he did he told Rogue that he was alive, and
      nothing more. There was a point when this only made her angry. He was
      alive, yet he couldn't be bothered to pick up a damn phone and call
      her.

      She listened to the blues and looked up at the stars and her whole
      being resonated with the ache.
      She wasn't waiting. She had refused to from the beginning. Of course,
      that didn't make the longing and the ache and the raw hurt any less,
      but she was moving on. And she was mostly happy with her life.

      She wasn't the only one resonating with lust. Carter was stupefied
      the first time he laid eyes on Kitty. Rogue felt guilty because on
      occasion she and Kitty had done an experimental and light dance down
      that road. Rogue hated to be the one to break it to him that Kitty
      didn't like boys. So she didn't. It was Jubilee who told him, in her
      usual blunt way, that Kitty played for the other team.
      With the arrogance of the attractive and the optimism of the young,
      Carter calmly waited and assumed that he would eventually win her.

      One night at three in the morning Rogue returned from getting a snack
      and heard music from Carter's room. She knocked.

      He came to the door, looking exhausted. There were dark circles under
      his eyes and he seemed paler than usual. "Carter, when was the last
      time you slept?"

      "Dunno. Fuckin' ironic, huh? I can make anyone sleep but me."

      "I can help you if you want. If you trust me."

      He shrugged.

      "Lift up your hand." He obeyed. It had been some months since she had
      done this, but she was confident in her ability.

      She narrowed her eyes and flipped a switch in her mind. She touched
      her index finger to his upturned one, the animation of Adam in
      reverse, and touched his fingertip to hers, feather light. Taking
      only his power, no life force, no memories. His eyes fluttered but
      otherwise there was no change.

      "You okay?" she asked. He nodded.

      She pushed ever so slightly with her mind. His eyes closed. "Sleepy?"

      "Yeah. Hit me again, a little more."
      She did, just a bit stronger, and Carter began to breathe slow and
      even.

      This became a nightly habit. She was glad to help him fight his
      demons in this small way and he was glad to get sleep. She soon
      learned just the right amount of power to hit him with. Sometimes the
      power exchange made her sleepy and she fell asleep in his bed. Soon
      they were sleeping together, more often than not.

      Rogue was having a very erotic dream. There was a hot man pressed to
      her. Hands moving over her body, snaking under her pajamas, breath on
      her shoulder, lips moving lazily on her neck. Her eyes opened.

      "Carter?" she whispered.

      She turned to face him.

      He stirred awake, his eyes fluttered open. "Roguey?"

      She had seen his eyes on her in the gym, as she worked out in her
      lycra. She knew he wanted her. He was eighteen. He wanted everybody.

      "I want you," she murmured.

      She pressed her hand to his naked chest, trailed down lightly.

      "You want me, don't you?"

      He nodded, eyes narrowing.

      He gasped as her hand moved over his pajama-clad erection.

      "I can tell you want me. I can feel it." She squeezed. He moaned.

      "Kiss me already," she said.

      He licked his lips and kissed her. She moaned, soaring. Skyrockets in
      her head. Touch, after so long. So sweet. It didn't matter who. It
      was her.

      His hands were all over her, uncharted territory. She didn't feel as
      if she were a virgin being deflowered. She had been deprived for
      years and now she absorbed touch like a flower takes in sunlight. She
      felt as if a thirst were being quenched.

      When she had her fill she pushed him down and moved slow above him.
      She wasn't a virgin, not really. Not with all the men in her head.
      But she was tight and it was good.

      After, her heart pounding, he whispered "what brought this on?"

      "I wanted to." It was that simple to her. And it held her over for
      quite a while.



      Chapter 6 is up at novemberotica.com
    Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.