Chapter 27



Remy awoke with a body on his chest and a knife under his pillow. He pushed the first away and pulled out the second in one fluid movement. Hazel eyes framed by strands of white hair glimmered at the end of the pointed blade. For a second or two, he just sat there, positive he was dreaming again.

"Rogue?" He lowered the knife. "What's up, Sugarplum?"

She kissed him. Just dove across his legs and mashed her mouth against his. It was anything but practiced; their teeth clacked together, her tongue was way too active, her knees pinched his leg and his collarbone bruised under a cold, metallic tube.

It was the best kiss Remy ever had and goddamn it if he didn't have to push her away.

After five more seconds.

"Rogue." He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her off because he knew he could never just pull away. Deep breaths. He had to take deep breaths but it was hard when Rogue was all mewing softness on his lap. Her hair smelled like peaches. Her pyjamas were peach-coloured, too and all the more sexy because they weren't intended to be.

Jailbait, Remy, he told his flaming sex-drive. You're better than this. She deserves better than this.

"You can't be comfortable, Stripes. Let me get you a robe." Remy slid quickly out of the bed, wrapping loose bedding around his waist. That pretty much settled it; he was going to start wearing shorts to bed around here.

"I don't want a robe, Remy." Rogue rose on her knees on the bed. Her slender white fingers fumbled with pyjama buttons.

"Jesus wept, stop that!" He rushed to yank her hands away. Wait, he'd just-- "Why aren't you absorbing me?"

Rogue flicked her hair away to reveal the suppression collar. "I tested it out for Dr. McCoy, remember?"

"I also remember that you should only wear it when he's around to monitor the effects. How'd you get it out of the lab?"

"I pinched it, of course," said Rogue. She uncurled his hands from around her own. "I've worn it for three hours straight before and nothing happened."

"Three hours, huh?" Remy's erection pulled the blanket up into a tent. Closing his eyes, he turned his back to hide it. Control yourself, goddammit. Taking another lungful of air, Remy forced a fraternal tone into his words. "Stripes, you should really get to bed. It's one in the morning and I know you got a test tomorrow."

Rogue's lower lip trembled. Oh no, not tears. He could take anything but tears.

"You..." She hiccupped. "You want me, don't you? I've seen you look at me like... sometimes when we're alone together, it's like you're almost going to kiss me. Tonight at the club..." She glanced pointedly at the part of his blanket that was tented up. "You said you had a dream like mine before."

Remy knew his prayers wouldn't count but he had to try anyway. Pulling a bed robe from his closet, he slung it around her shoulders, making sure to hide every inch of her body. "Sugarplum, I'd be more flattered if I didn't know that you're not here for me. What in hell would a sweet young thing like you want with a geezer like me, huh?"

"You're not old," said Rogue, jerkily wiping her tears before they slid to her cheeks.

"One foot in the grave," he said cheerfully. With her seated on the foot of the bed and more sheets on his lap, Remy felt more comfortable talking. Two feet of space would be enough to keep his dick down to half-mast at the very least. "I got some snacks and all the time in the world to listen, Stripes." He reached for the third drawer in his nightstand, pulling out bags of chocolate-covered nuts, hickory sticks and jalapeno pretzels.

"I don't want you to listen," said Rogue a trifle louder than was wise. "I'm tired of boys listening. I want you to t-t-touch--" She faltered but, setting her chin at an obstinate angle, she shrugged the robe off and leaned over to slide a hand across his cheek. His whiskers caught on her skin.

Remy almost didn't pull away. "Stop that, I said!"

Snatching her hand back, Rogue bit her lip. "I'm s-sorry. I guess I thought... well, of course you wouldn't..." She curled into herself.

Her tone was so self-castigating, so bitter that Remy melted a little in his stomach. He knew what was bothering her; how could he not when they'd spent so much time together? The poor girl was starved for touch. He half-suspected the reason she liked being around him so much was because he was so free with his touches.

"Sweetheart, don't talk like that." Remy pulled her, sniffling and hiccupping, into an embrace. "You're gorgeous. You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen, you know that."

Rogue buried her face in his chest and bawled. Helplessly, he stroked her hair, rocking back and forth, hoping she'd stop crying soon because it broke his heart to see her cry. And, traitorously, wishing she'd cry a while longer because it gave him an excuse to hold her this close. Was he sick, or what?

"You know why I call you 'Peaches'?" Remy asked when she calmed down enough.

She shook her head "no."

"First time I met you, you reminded me of them," he said. "Mad as hell, cheeks all pink and smile like a summer day. Body that you just wanted to sink your teeth into, it's so ripe."

"You said before it was because I had fuzzy hair on my forehead."

"I lied." He smiled into her hair. "I do that a lot."

Rogue turned her head up. "How do I know you're not lying to me right now?"

"I swear to you, I'm not lying." He kissed the top of her head. "You seen the boys when you walk down the hall? Their eyes follow you. You don't even have to do anything; you smile and those dogs come a-panting. Hell, I have no idea why you went out with the Ice Cube."

Her breath caught again. "Bobby... Bobby and Jubilee slept together. When they were in SHIELD. I heard them talking and they... they were kissing in the locker rooms."

Ah, so that was the problem. She was looking to validate her attractiveness. "He's not good enough for you," said Remy, wondering how and when to leave timed charges in Drake's underwear. "He's not even close."

With a crooked half-smile, Rogue settled her cheek back in its nook under his chin. "I wish I didn't have this power."

"Don't say that," said Remy sharply. "You think a girl who can learn to do a cat-grab in a month won't be able to control her power soon?"

"Maybe that girl's power-retarded."

"Shut your mouth; that's my partner you're talking about."

They sat like that for a while longer until with Remy stroking her back and her stroking his, breathing in unison. He could imagine staying like this all night if he needed to. He did not imagine her lips on his chest, slowly travelling along his collarbone to his neck.

His brain screamed all sorts of obscenities against his pitiful morals, his over-large sex drive and his gutter-stained genealogical origins but his blood thundered so hard that he couldn't make it out.


One of the hands stroking his back didn't stop on the up stroke, just kept going up and up to play with the hair at just above his nape.

"Rogue, what you're feeling isn't really--"

She whispered his name in his ear just before biting softly on the lobe, her teeth catching on an earring.

Oh, Jesus Christ and all his angels in Heaven, Hell and South Dakota. "Marie." His voice was strangled. "I'm not good enough for you either."

Rogue sucked lightly on a tendon just under his jaw.

"Someone good enough--" She shifted on his lap and Remy let out a groan as her knee brushed his stomach. "Someone good enough would kick you out right now."

Rogue rose, still kissing his neck and jaw, slipping one leg over his thigh so she straddled him. Remy clutched her hips and bent his leg just enough to press against the vee of her thighs. She moaned, rocking inelegantly. He moaned with her.

"Someone good enough wouldn't do this." He snuck his hands under Rogue's shirt, touching that soft, soft skin, skin he knew was pale as ivory and more sensual than mink. "He would've... he would've made you a mocha and dried your tears and he would have waited."

She was reaching around, under his arms and down, tracing the ridges and valleys of his back. His spine was on fire, the heat pooling down to his erection.

"I..." Remy nuzzled her neck. She had the most elegant neck in the world. Vampires had wet dreams about that neck. Suckling on her earlobe, he slid his hands to her front. Rogue bucked against him, letting out a breathy little sound that did nothing to quash his bad intentions. "I shouldn't..." He had to taste her skin once more before he continued. "I am going to a special hell for doing this."

He cupped her breasts. Rogue arched back, her nipples pebbling against his palms, her hands digging into his shoulders. Remy opened his eyes-- they'd been closed?-- and watched her. Watched her full lower lip go deep red as her little crooked front teeth bit down on it. Watched her body roll, pelvis rubbing on his leg and her breasts on his hands, the movement dripping with feline grace. Watched her eyes flutter, her short but thick lashes black against pale cheeks.

"Jesus wept." He shook his head. "Last chance, Peaches. Get out of here or we're both going to take a hot ride in a handbasket carried by the Devil himself."

She touched his lips. "You always talk this much in bed?"

"Can't get me to shut up."

"I'm betting I could try." Her hand snaked down to the half-forgotten blanket he'd wound around his waist.

He didn't stop her.

He didn't want to. Special hells likely had all the interesting people anyway.

Cool night air kissed his skin. He heard her breath catch upon seeing him just bare like that. He was no Ron Jeremy but if Rogue's only experience were fumbling boys like Drake, chances were she'd never seen a cock plain. Her touch was too light, too tentative but Remy thanked her for it. If she knew how to do this properly, he'd never last long.

He slipped his hands out from under her shirt but, just as she started to protest, he kissed her. Jesus, he'd been waiting forever for that kiss. He tilted her head to one side, showing her where the noses should go, tugging her arms around his waist to show her what else her hands should do. He had to go slow. He was a dick but damned if he was going to be an inconsiderate dick.

"Let's take this off, Sugarplum." Remy tugged on the cotton pyjama top.

Smiling knowingly, Rogue undid the buttons but left the two panels just hanging there. "Someone good enough would help a girl out."

He lay his hand, palm down, between her breasts. He could feel her heart pumping like mad despite her sure words. He kissed the little pulse shivering just over the collar as his hand wandered south. Salt and peach met his tongue. She made the sweetest sounds, sighs that hit just the right chord in that part of his brain that controlled his cock. They kissed again. She tasted tart here, like the first fruit crop warmed by the sun in the morning but still strong enough to withstand a night frost.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered, tugging on masses of brown hair. "Tell me what you like, sweetheart. I'll do it. I'll do anything for you."

"I... I don't know," she replied, dazed. "I've never really... I don't know what's right."

That gave him a pause. "You've never done this before?" he asked, going for a concerned tone when what he really wanted to do was crow.

She shook her head, letting her hair cover her face. "How could I?" she whispered.

"Hell, Peaches, there are ways around..." He stopped, thinking belatedly that those words might not be well received right now. He parted the white curtain of her bangs, framing her face with his hands and tilting her chin up so they could talk eye-to-eye. "Forget what I said, Sugarplum. That's nothing to be ashamed of, all right? It ain't. I just want to make sure you really want to do this with me. You never forget your first and I don't want to be someone you try to forget."

Rogue turned her head so that her lips touched his thumb. "I'm sure. You're my partner. Partners share everything, remember?" Smiling nervously, she added, "What if I mess up so badly that you try to forget?"

He cupped the base of her skull in one hand and pulled her body closer with the other. "Never." Releasing her face, he led her hands around his wrists. "Show me, sweetheart. If it feels good, it's right."

She licked her lips and said, "I liked this." Rogue positioned one of his hands on the curve of her stomach where her navel played peek-a-boo with her pyjama bottoms.

Obediently, Remy caressed that patch of skin. She was so perfect right then. Her scent-- peaches, soap and musk-- spiralled around his senses. Her hair was a wild thing, crackling all round them, draped down her back and across her shoulders, plastered on one breast and some reaching out to his face. His hand slipped lower over her pants, lower and lower and, when she still didn't protest, he flicked a finger across her clit.

Rogue cried out, stiffening, her arms braced against his. He froze, waiting for a signal to go further or pull back. She rocked her pelvis against his finger.

Further then.

Remy strummed her again, avidly memorizing every sound she made, every little movement. She went for his cock but with her eyes closed, she damaged more than she aroused. Curling away from those flatteringly eager hands, Remy chuckled. "Whoa, sweetheart, watch where you're going."

Her lips were red now as were her cheeks and her breasts blushed deep pink. "Sorry."

"It's okay, just take it slow." He kissed the tip of her nose. "We got plenty of time, Sugarplum."

"Yeah, I'm just... uh... I don't know what..." Rogue's hands fluttered in the air, trying to describe what she couldn't say. "Erm, I thought... both hands seemed...? Oh, gawd, I'm no good at this," she said, letting her hair cover her face again.

"Hey, now, none of that." Tipping her head back, he strummed her plump lips. "You're doing great, Peaches. You're so damned pretty. So damned lovable. I could do this all night." He drew her higher up on his lap. "Touch me any way you want, sweetheart. I am your piece of meat."

Rogue playfully splayed her fingers over his pecs and gave them a squeeze as her laughter chased most of the uncertainty from her eyes. Remy was glad. There was nothing sexier than Rogue when she went all sassy on him.

Leaning back on his pillows, he put his weight on his elbows, stretching his body out for Rogue's perusal. He fluttered his lashes. "I like long walks on the beach, reading poetry and-- uuuuuunnngggh!-- eating fudge sundaes with the woman of my dreams!"

"Stop it!" Rogue smacked him, quick little stings all over his shoulders, giggling all the while. "You're such a ham."

"All for you, Peaches." He sat up, gathered her in his arms and peppered her face with kisses between words. "All. For. You."

She stretched her arms around his neck so her breasts flattened against his chest. He couldn't stop kissing her, couldn't stay away from that mouth of hers, those damned plump little lips that'd been hollering at him since he rode back into this dusty old place.

He positioned her right over his lap so his erection rubbed up against the wet spot on her pants. They stayed like that, rocking and necking until Rogue's scent grew so strong it was all Remy could do not to dive between her legs and taste her. She was tensing up, her breaths coming in faster and a little ragged, rubbing a little more desperately against his cock. She shifted her hips to lower her pants around her thighs. He followed it down, slipping his fingers through damp curls and slick folds of skin to stroke her. Her jaw dropped open. Remy took that opportunity to kiss her again. Rogue's kisses were better than cayenne.

"More," she whimpered when he finally he eased a finger inside her. "Please, more."

Despite her plea, he stroked her with one finger a little while longer. She was really tight and he was scared stupid of hurting her. He'd rather get her off like this than hurt her with the real thing.

"Wait," she gasped a minute later, lifting her hips slightly. Silently cursing, Remy withdrew and prepared to apologize but Rogue, bless her goddamned sexy heart, slid both hands down his chest, past his stomach and searched for his erection.

"You're okay?" he asked when she had a firm hold on him.

She nodded tucking her head in his shoulder and angling her hips towards his hand, shyly kissing his neck and collarbone again and whispering "More" as she fondled him from base to tip.

"More," he whispered in turn. Her fist tightened around him, stroking faster and even dipping between her own legs for more lubrication. He found her sweet spot, a little spongy bit an inch or so into her and played with that using two fingers now.

The next few minutes were a blur of hands and tongues and cloth and hair and lips. Everything was thick and hot, even his blood felt like lava. Seeing Rogue naked like an inverted silhouette in his room, knowing he could touch all that white skin-- it was like a smorgasbord to the senses and he was a starving man. He sampled a little bit of everything: read the Braille of her goosebumps, licked the sweat beading at her hips, hunted down the places that made her tremble. He tried to compensate for every moment of touch she missed out on for nearly a year. His entire body shook, straining and shivering for release but she had to get there first. He was going to wait until she got there first and then, goddamn, he was going to burst all over her hand.

"Remy." He barely heard her speak. "Inside."

"Sweetheart." He wanted to say that it was too soon and he really was too old for her and that maybe when this was all over, she'd feel dirty if they went all the way there but she was rising on her knees and he felt her at the tip of his cock all wet softness and she whispered "More" again like it was a mantra.

Remy had just enough presence of mind to grab a string of condoms out of his nightstand and throw it on the pillow. A harsh curse broke their muted movements as he tore one condom straight through followed by another curse when she rolled a new one over him and then-- God, thank you finally!-- she slid down on him and he was inside her-- had he prepared her enough?-- and it felt like everything was squeezing down and around and he couldn't breathe, she was so tight and--

Remy bucked against her once, twice, before rolling to the other side of the bed. Rogue instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. That just drove him deeper. Rogue grunted; Remy bared his teeth and hissed.

Bracing his arms on either side of her head, he asked, "You okay? Doesn't hurt?" and prayed that she was okay and wasn't hurt because if he had to stop, he was going to die. He was going to have to go to the bathroom and jerk his dick straight off.

"I'm fine," she said huskily. "It just feels a little... weird."

Remy laughed then groaned as the movement did something really nice to his erection. "Weird, huh? First time I ever heard that." She blushed again, her shyness returning but Remy kissed it away. "It's nice. Honest. I like it."

"Honesty, huh?" Rogue licked her lips. "Honestly then, c-can you give me a second? It feels really... full. Like something's trying to go up my throat from... uh... below." She wriggled her hips.

He dropped his head on her shoulder and made a guttural sound.

She wiggled again, the tease. He made her stop still simply by pushing in deeper and pressing down. "Behave, you little river rat, or else I'm going to get real embarrassed and you're going to get real frustrated."

"Sorry." She kissed his temple. "I'm okay. Really. The weird is over now."

"You're sure?"

She nodded. "We can keep going."

"Peaches, we've been going since you walked through that door." He leaned down to kiss her cheek but she pulled away to lever her hips upward at the same time and they went nowhere in terms of intercourse but racked up points in the bruising department.

"Whoops! Sorry! I'm sorry!"

"No, it's okay, let me just..." Resting his weight on one arm, Remy hooked one of her legs over his shoulder. That angle should relieve a little of the pressure. He slid his free hand between their bodies. "Hold on, I'm just going to help it feel a little better."

"Oh! Ah, ah, tickling! Tickling!"

"Jesus wept, that feels... I gotta tickle you in bed more. How 'bout this?"

Rogue mewed as he flicked his fingers against her.

"Right button."

"Shush and kiss me, swamp rat."

Endless, beautiful minutes later, when her jaw stiffened and her toes curled, Remy thrust in earnest. Soon, he couldn't form words if his life depended on it. He felt his whole body tightening: his face pulling up into a grimace, his balls lifting and his throat closing in on the undoubtedly animalistic sounds coming out of his mouth.

As he came, he felt her arms wrap around his shoulders and her legs lock around his waist and her lips over his heart.

Adam screamed as yet another person landed on his leg. He curled up, gagging with pain. Oh Christ, that had been a stupid move. Sure, it was heroic to let Gav leave and act as bait for the sticks but now he was just scared and in pain. There were others injured; moans and cries and various body fluids slicked the floor. The person beside him hadn't moved in hours.

For the first time since he was taken, Adam knew he was going to die here.

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