musebyquotes | 1.8. Wonder Years quote
1.8. "Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose."
- From the television show 'The Wonder Years'
Co-written with justalilcontact | Follows THIS and THIS
After zipping her jeans back up, and washing her hands, Rogue was standing across the hall outside Remy's room. She had her gloves back on too, but couldn't help thinking about the fact her panties were still wet from arousal. She shifted her weight as she tried not to think too hard on Remy licking her clean, even if his voice in her head was encouraging that line of thinking. The funny thing about Remy in her head was that he wasn't so willing to overtake her own thoughts. He seemed happy just to linger in the background, feeding her dirty imagery and suggestions.
That, and the drain hadn't really been that big, so she could recover relatively quickly. She bit her lip and raised her gloved knuckles to rap lightly on his door. "Sugar? It's me..."
Remy had been lying half propped up on his pillows with a very full glass of straight vodka sitting in the middle of his chest. He had been swirling his finger absentmindedly in the liquid trying to will the headache away. Unsurprisingly, the pills Hank had given him had done nothing. The big blue doctor may as well have fed him M&Ms for all the effect they had. The thing was, Remy hadn't exactly followed the whole medical advice to rest. Instead, he decided he was horny and wanted a fuck. It didn't particularly matter who he fucked... it rarely did. So, he found some chick that wasn't too young and she was keen enough, only his heart wasn't really in it. His head was really sore and his sore head made him think of Rogue even more so than he already was. He lost interest in the fuck not even half way in and left her high and dry in one of the supply closets, merely zipping his trousers up and walking away without a word. That wasn't uncommon behaviour for Remy. If he wasn't getting what he he needed, too bad... for them.
That was when he had finally gone back to his room to brood. The TV gave him nothing (there wasn't even access to the porn channel), so he took the pills and cracked into the vodka he 'borrowed' from 'someone'. It didn't matter anyway. It wasn't like he was going to return it. When the knock came, he had planned on ignoring it until Rogue's voice followed. His eyebrows rose and he set the glass on the nightstand to push up off the bed. He was still dizzy and maybe Hank had a point. Rest. If only Remy wasn't forever restless. He only had his black jeans on and nothing else. He didn't bother to find a shirt to get the door. He pulled it open and leant against the jamb with a smirk. "Avon calling? Or are you selling cookies?" he asked.
Rogue opened her mouth to respond, but she was greeted by his very gorgeous chest and she just stood there gaping instead. "Hm?" she said after a long moment of doing nothing but staring at his chest. Damn Remy LeBeau and every inch of his beautifully toned body. "I, um, are ya okay? I know ya said ya had a headache, but I just wanted to make sure ya were still breathin'. I don't know what I'd do if ya weren't..." She finally lifted her gaze to look at his face, and frowned a little. "Ya ain't okay, are ya? I really didn't mean to hurt ya, Remy. I'm sorry." She hadn't apologised for actually kissing him, and she wasn't about to. That was the one thing she wasn't regretting.
"You're quite the rambler when you want to be, aren't you, cherie?" Remy asked in amusement, shifting aside and gesturing inside if she wanted to come in. "I told you it was nothing I can't handle. You would have reason to worry if I lost the ability to use my mouth." He was still smirking, but it didn't linger when he could see how worried she was. He was quiet for a moment before he wet his lips and nodded. "I'm fine, belle. I went and saw Hank. He gave me Aspirin and told me to rest. He would've given me more for a cold."
Rogue stepped into his room, and started to tug on the tips of her gloves before she turned to look at him again, seeing if what he said matched up with his appearance. She gave a nod as she glanced at his bed and wet her lips. "So have ya been restin'? Did I wake ya up? Should I... do ya want me to--" she broke off, and shut her mouth with a sheepish look. "Yeah, I can kinda ramble when I want. Guess it means I'm still me, huh?"
"God forbid you were anything but, amour," Remy murmured. He closed the door and followed her back into the room. He went over to the nightstand to pick up his cigarettes and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I've been somewhat resting. Sort of. You didn't wake me and if you had, it would've been because I passed out from boredom. This place is like a convent. No one has changed... that's not a good thing in some cases."
Rogue came over to sit beside him and arched her eyebrow. "How were we supposed to change, sugar? Does that mean it ain't good that I haven't? And the only reason ya bored is because ya don't try. Ya as bad as Logan sometimes."
Remy slipped a cigarette from the packet, setting it between his fingers. He turned to look at her with a slight smile. "I'm just waiting for the action to start," he told her with a shrug. "I won't wait forever. Logan said there are things on the move. Here's hoping. I saw Storm wiping up some kid's vomit this morning." He shook his head. "That's not my scene."
"No one's askin' it to be," Rogue pointed out as she turned her head to look over Remy's bed. It was all too easy to imagine being in it with him. She shifted as she moved back onto the dark covers and rest her head on one of the pillows. Even after a couple of weeks the pillow was covered in his scent. She inhaled deeply and pushed her streaked locks back from her face. "Come rest with me?" she asked him, her hand touching his back. "I won't hurt ya, promise. If ya so restless, use the DR. Come to trainin'. Gotta be worth it just to show up Bobby, and see me in leather." Yeah, she knew about that particular penchant of his now, too. And she didn't mind in the least. She enjoyed wearing the X-Men uniform. Even more so now she knew it turned Remy on.
Remy raised an eyebrow as he watched her but shifted back to lie beside her, his hands folded across his chest with the cigarette still resting there. He hadn't lit it up, too distracted by Rogue's questions. "Do you give me permission to hurt the connard, belle?" he asked and cleared his throat. "It's hard to find a place after being away for so long."
"Ain't my permission to give anymore," Rogue said simply. She watched him quietly, trying to decide if she was allowed to touch him while they were like this, or not. She didn't want skin contact, just... something. She reached out to let her gloved hand rest against his shoulder. "Ya always got a place here, sugar. With me." She could feel her heart starting to pound, the quiet admission something that made her nervous, scared of what it might mean.
Remy turned his head on the pillow and met her eyes. He didn't say anything at first, but he soon smiled faintly. "Why do you think I came back, cherie?" he said and searched her face. "Why do you think I left?"
Rogue held his gaze as her teeth caught her bottom lip. "I... I don't know. I mean, the comin' back I know. I think. It's the why ya left I'm still havin' trouble with. Ya never said a word. Didn't say goodbye."
Remy just smirked and went back to looking at the ceiling. "It's only goodbye if you don't come back, belle," he told her simply. "You were busy elsewhere when I left. There wasn't much to stick around for. Sometimes you just have to be free."
Rogue swallowed and wet her lips, her gaze still on him. "But ya stayin' now... for the action. And for... for me. Are ya still gonna be free?"
"I'm always free, mon amour. No matter where I am. It's just a matter of having something to keep me occupied." Remy reached over to put the cigarette onto the table and rolled onto his side so he could watch her. "Why didn't you take the Cure, belle? I really thought you might," he admitted. "For him."
Rogue closed her eyes briefly and sighed. "Everyone did. Even Logan. He warned me not to take it for 'some boy', and maybe part of me was ready to. It wasn't really the boy that I was gonna take it for. I just wanted to feel somethin'. Somethin' that wasn't anger at not bein' able to touch, or fear for hurtin' someone. I just wanted to remember what it was like to touch someone again. Really touch 'em. I didn't want it the second I got past the sign in. I want control, Remy. I wanna work for skin-on-skin. I don't want it to be somethin' that comes from a needle. And I figure if someone really cared about me, well, they should be able to take my mutation along with me. I shouldn't have to hate who I am."
Remy listened closely, his eyes on her face the whole time. "Non, belle. You shouldn't." He reached up and stroked his fingers lightly through her hair before his hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Have you been working for it?" he asked.
Rogue touched her gloved hand to his chest. "Yeah, but I don't really get a lotta time to practice. Logan was lettin' me try on him, but he's been busy doin' whoever he's doin', and tryin' to get a lead on the FoH. It's still hard. Some days it just doesn't work at all, like today."
"Then why did you ask me to teach you how to ride and not this?" Remy asked, genuinely curious. The temptation of the cigarette couldn't be fought any longer. Something was needed to make up for the lacklustre semi-fuck. He rose up on his elbow to take a generous sip of the Vodka and then put the cigarette between his lips. He took his lighter and lit it up, then lay back down on his bed, blowing the smoking up to the ceiling slowly.
"'Cause I do wanna be able to ride... and I wasn't sure if you'd agree to helpin' me with my control." Rogue watched him, her nose scrunching up a little. Logan was too deep-seated in her head to ever have her liking anything but whiskey, but that didn't stop her wondering what vodka would taste like on Remy's lips. She slid her leg between his and pulled herself against him. "Do ya wanna help me with this?"
Remy sniggered. It was amusing to him, but not for the reasons she might think. "Why would I not help you? I told you, it doesn't bother me. Not a lot does bother me and I'm capable of multitasking, mon cherie. Is there anything else you need help with?" he asked, holding her gaze.
"Embrassez-moi," Rogue murmured as she wet her lips. "Just like you used to with a scarf. No one's... no one's kissed me since you."
"With or without the scarf, mon amour?" Remy asked, his voice hushed to match her tone. His eyes only left hers momentarily to look at her lips before they were locked back intently with hers.
It suddenly felt like they were locked inside their own private little world. Rogue wasn't thinking about the school, or the students, or any other X-Men. This was about her and Remy. His hushed tone made her smile a bit, amused he always seemed to be able to follow her moods and quirks. "Scarf. I don't wanna hurt ya again."
Remy crooked his finger a little and gestured for her to come closer, even if it was near impossible considered they were already only inches apart. He dropped his voice to a whisper, which was rough and almost a purr. "I have a secret for you, belle..." he revealed and then smirked. "I don't have a tendency to carry scarves on me. Ladies underwear could be a whole other story, though."
Rogue blinked, her nose crinkling a little as she tried to think it through, but she did as he wanted and moved a little closer. Her breath caught as she realised how close she was, and his whisper sent shudders of pleasure through her body. "Ladies... underwear? Why would ya carry around ladies underwear, sugar?"
"I don't, but it made you think, didn't it?" Remy said with a devious grin. He wet his lips, remaining as close to her as possible without touch and then shifted back to get up off the bed. He stumbled a little again when his head spun and he glanced back at her. "You really know how to knock a guy off his feet, amour." He went to the pocket of his leather jacket hanging over the back of the chair by the window and produced a black and red bandana, holding it up between his fingers as he sauntered back to the bed.
Rogue had rolled onto her back as she watched him, chewing her lip as those nervous little butterflies picked up again, and she felt a warmth start to spread over her body. She could remember every kissed they had shared perfectly, and now she was going to get to kiss him again. And this time she wouldn't have to run off in fear like hours earlier. "I'm special like that," she said with a soft laugh. "Ya really know how to get inside a girl's head."
Remy slid back onto the bed and straddled over her. He smirked down at her, trailing the edge of the bandana over her lips teasingly. "Tomorrow we start working on your control, mon cherie," he told her, a no-arguments tone edging the words. "I'll hit Hank up for more Aspirin."
She sucked in a breath as her back arched a little, her hands clutching his bedspread as opposed to him. If she put her hands on him, she wasn't exactly sure this would stop at a kiss. She gave a nod, too scared to try and speak in case it came out as a whimper. The Remy in her head was smirking as much as the one above her.
"Close your eyes, chaton," Remy directed in whisper. He leaned closer and ghosted his lips near hers without touching. His breath tickled over her lips and he trailed his eyes down over her pale skin at her throat and chest. He was aware of his heart beating in his chest and sending a throbbing pulse right down to his nether regions. He wet his lips as if anticipating eating a fine delicacy. The truth was, it was Rogue's forbidden touch that always burnt the fire of desire hotter and wilder inside him. He had always had a thing for what he wasn't allowed to have.
Touch in general was something that was forbidden for Rogue, but Remy's was something she'd craved ever since she'd met him. How she'd managed to not give into temptation in their earlier days at Xavier's she would never know. They'd always used scarves, and the kisses had been stolen. Even now she almost felt like she was stealing something, but Remy was the thief here. She looked at his face for a moment longer before she closed her eyes and tried not to give in to the cold knot of fear that was starting to tighten in her stomach. Remy would keep her safe, Remy would always keep her safe. "S'il vous plaît..."
Remy laid the scarf over her lips and as he breached the gap between them, couldn't help rocking forward a little, his hips pressing against her with a delicious friction between them. The kiss was soft at first, giving her time to remember what it was like and then he increased the intensity just a little. It wasn't going to be enough, though. A kiss would never be enough with her to satiate him. But Rogue was different to all the other girls and he wouldn't take advantage without it being give and take. And it was too soon. Time. So much had passed between them already, and if what Logan said was true, a little more wasn't going to hurt either of them.
Rogue released her grip on the bed covers as her arms snaked around his waist, and her gloved hands pushed up his back. The friction made her moan and she shifted under him, already starting to get aroused again. Damn Remy LeBeau and damn her ability to respond to him so readily. She returned the kiss, their tongues dampening the bandanna and making it easier for her to start to explore the depths of his mouth as she moaned again.
He would have continued it, but he didn't. He pulled back, licking his lips with his red eyes heavy and filled with lust. He let out a slow breath and the smirk was back, it ever a regular feature on Remy's lips. "Some things never do really change," he told her and tucked her hair back off her face. He stayed straddled over her and pressed close to her and the smirk turned into a smile that was veiled but hid much behind it.
Rogue was waiting for her impulse to flee to kick in, but it didn't. She stayed there with her arms wrapped around Remy, brown eyes flicking between his red ones, and his mouth. She had no plans to move for a while yet. It was beyond comfortable on Remy's bed, trapped underneath him. She took a moment to consider what it would be like to wake up next to him and sighed as a slow smile spread across her own lips. Some things really didn't change, but some things did. And it wasn't always bad.
Part of Remy/Rogue's verse: luxure
Word Count | 3,110
- From the television show 'The Wonder Years'
Co-written with justalilcontact | Follows THIS and THIS
After zipping her jeans back up, and washing her hands, Rogue was standing across the hall outside Remy's room. She had her gloves back on too, but couldn't help thinking about the fact her panties were still wet from arousal. She shifted her weight as she tried not to think too hard on Remy licking her clean, even if his voice in her head was encouraging that line of thinking. The funny thing about Remy in her head was that he wasn't so willing to overtake her own thoughts. He seemed happy just to linger in the background, feeding her dirty imagery and suggestions.
That, and the drain hadn't really been that big, so she could recover relatively quickly. She bit her lip and raised her gloved knuckles to rap lightly on his door. "Sugar? It's me..."
Remy had been lying half propped up on his pillows with a very full glass of straight vodka sitting in the middle of his chest. He had been swirling his finger absentmindedly in the liquid trying to will the headache away. Unsurprisingly, the pills Hank had given him had done nothing. The big blue doctor may as well have fed him M&Ms for all the effect they had. The thing was, Remy hadn't exactly followed the whole medical advice to rest. Instead, he decided he was horny and wanted a fuck. It didn't particularly matter who he fucked... it rarely did. So, he found some chick that wasn't too young and she was keen enough, only his heart wasn't really in it. His head was really sore and his sore head made him think of Rogue even more so than he already was. He lost interest in the fuck not even half way in and left her high and dry in one of the supply closets, merely zipping his trousers up and walking away without a word. That wasn't uncommon behaviour for Remy. If he wasn't getting what he he needed, too bad... for them.
That was when he had finally gone back to his room to brood. The TV gave him nothing (there wasn't even access to the porn channel), so he took the pills and cracked into the vodka he 'borrowed' from 'someone'. It didn't matter anyway. It wasn't like he was going to return it. When the knock came, he had planned on ignoring it until Rogue's voice followed. His eyebrows rose and he set the glass on the nightstand to push up off the bed. He was still dizzy and maybe Hank had a point. Rest. If only Remy wasn't forever restless. He only had his black jeans on and nothing else. He didn't bother to find a shirt to get the door. He pulled it open and leant against the jamb with a smirk. "Avon calling? Or are you selling cookies?" he asked.
Rogue opened her mouth to respond, but she was greeted by his very gorgeous chest and she just stood there gaping instead. "Hm?" she said after a long moment of doing nothing but staring at his chest. Damn Remy LeBeau and every inch of his beautifully toned body. "I, um, are ya okay? I know ya said ya had a headache, but I just wanted to make sure ya were still breathin'. I don't know what I'd do if ya weren't..." She finally lifted her gaze to look at his face, and frowned a little. "Ya ain't okay, are ya? I really didn't mean to hurt ya, Remy. I'm sorry." She hadn't apologised for actually kissing him, and she wasn't about to. That was the one thing she wasn't regretting.
"You're quite the rambler when you want to be, aren't you, cherie?" Remy asked in amusement, shifting aside and gesturing inside if she wanted to come in. "I told you it was nothing I can't handle. You would have reason to worry if I lost the ability to use my mouth." He was still smirking, but it didn't linger when he could see how worried she was. He was quiet for a moment before he wet his lips and nodded. "I'm fine, belle. I went and saw Hank. He gave me Aspirin and told me to rest. He would've given me more for a cold."
Rogue stepped into his room, and started to tug on the tips of her gloves before she turned to look at him again, seeing if what he said matched up with his appearance. She gave a nod as she glanced at his bed and wet her lips. "So have ya been restin'? Did I wake ya up? Should I... do ya want me to--" she broke off, and shut her mouth with a sheepish look. "Yeah, I can kinda ramble when I want. Guess it means I'm still me, huh?"
"God forbid you were anything but, amour," Remy murmured. He closed the door and followed her back into the room. He went over to the nightstand to pick up his cigarettes and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I've been somewhat resting. Sort of. You didn't wake me and if you had, it would've been because I passed out from boredom. This place is like a convent. No one has changed... that's not a good thing in some cases."
Rogue came over to sit beside him and arched her eyebrow. "How were we supposed to change, sugar? Does that mean it ain't good that I haven't? And the only reason ya bored is because ya don't try. Ya as bad as Logan sometimes."
Remy slipped a cigarette from the packet, setting it between his fingers. He turned to look at her with a slight smile. "I'm just waiting for the action to start," he told her with a shrug. "I won't wait forever. Logan said there are things on the move. Here's hoping. I saw Storm wiping up some kid's vomit this morning." He shook his head. "That's not my scene."
"No one's askin' it to be," Rogue pointed out as she turned her head to look over Remy's bed. It was all too easy to imagine being in it with him. She shifted as she moved back onto the dark covers and rest her head on one of the pillows. Even after a couple of weeks the pillow was covered in his scent. She inhaled deeply and pushed her streaked locks back from her face. "Come rest with me?" she asked him, her hand touching his back. "I won't hurt ya, promise. If ya so restless, use the DR. Come to trainin'. Gotta be worth it just to show up Bobby, and see me in leather." Yeah, she knew about that particular penchant of his now, too. And she didn't mind in the least. She enjoyed wearing the X-Men uniform. Even more so now she knew it turned Remy on.
Remy raised an eyebrow as he watched her but shifted back to lie beside her, his hands folded across his chest with the cigarette still resting there. He hadn't lit it up, too distracted by Rogue's questions. "Do you give me permission to hurt the connard, belle?" he asked and cleared his throat. "It's hard to find a place after being away for so long."
"Ain't my permission to give anymore," Rogue said simply. She watched him quietly, trying to decide if she was allowed to touch him while they were like this, or not. She didn't want skin contact, just... something. She reached out to let her gloved hand rest against his shoulder. "Ya always got a place here, sugar. With me." She could feel her heart starting to pound, the quiet admission something that made her nervous, scared of what it might mean.
Remy turned his head on the pillow and met her eyes. He didn't say anything at first, but he soon smiled faintly. "Why do you think I came back, cherie?" he said and searched her face. "Why do you think I left?"
Rogue held his gaze as her teeth caught her bottom lip. "I... I don't know. I mean, the comin' back I know. I think. It's the why ya left I'm still havin' trouble with. Ya never said a word. Didn't say goodbye."
Remy just smirked and went back to looking at the ceiling. "It's only goodbye if you don't come back, belle," he told her simply. "You were busy elsewhere when I left. There wasn't much to stick around for. Sometimes you just have to be free."
Rogue swallowed and wet her lips, her gaze still on him. "But ya stayin' now... for the action. And for... for me. Are ya still gonna be free?"
"I'm always free, mon amour. No matter where I am. It's just a matter of having something to keep me occupied." Remy reached over to put the cigarette onto the table and rolled onto his side so he could watch her. "Why didn't you take the Cure, belle? I really thought you might," he admitted. "For him."
Rogue closed her eyes briefly and sighed. "Everyone did. Even Logan. He warned me not to take it for 'some boy', and maybe part of me was ready to. It wasn't really the boy that I was gonna take it for. I just wanted to feel somethin'. Somethin' that wasn't anger at not bein' able to touch, or fear for hurtin' someone. I just wanted to remember what it was like to touch someone again. Really touch 'em. I didn't want it the second I got past the sign in. I want control, Remy. I wanna work for skin-on-skin. I don't want it to be somethin' that comes from a needle. And I figure if someone really cared about me, well, they should be able to take my mutation along with me. I shouldn't have to hate who I am."
Remy listened closely, his eyes on her face the whole time. "Non, belle. You shouldn't." He reached up and stroked his fingers lightly through her hair before his hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Have you been working for it?" he asked.
Rogue touched her gloved hand to his chest. "Yeah, but I don't really get a lotta time to practice. Logan was lettin' me try on him, but he's been busy doin' whoever he's doin', and tryin' to get a lead on the FoH. It's still hard. Some days it just doesn't work at all, like today."
"Then why did you ask me to teach you how to ride and not this?" Remy asked, genuinely curious. The temptation of the cigarette couldn't be fought any longer. Something was needed to make up for the lacklustre semi-fuck. He rose up on his elbow to take a generous sip of the Vodka and then put the cigarette between his lips. He took his lighter and lit it up, then lay back down on his bed, blowing the smoking up to the ceiling slowly.
"'Cause I do wanna be able to ride... and I wasn't sure if you'd agree to helpin' me with my control." Rogue watched him, her nose scrunching up a little. Logan was too deep-seated in her head to ever have her liking anything but whiskey, but that didn't stop her wondering what vodka would taste like on Remy's lips. She slid her leg between his and pulled herself against him. "Do ya wanna help me with this?"
Remy sniggered. It was amusing to him, but not for the reasons she might think. "Why would I not help you? I told you, it doesn't bother me. Not a lot does bother me and I'm capable of multitasking, mon cherie. Is there anything else you need help with?" he asked, holding her gaze.
"Embrassez-moi," Rogue murmured as she wet her lips. "Just like you used to with a scarf. No one's... no one's kissed me since you."
"With or without the scarf, mon amour?" Remy asked, his voice hushed to match her tone. His eyes only left hers momentarily to look at her lips before they were locked back intently with hers.
It suddenly felt like they were locked inside their own private little world. Rogue wasn't thinking about the school, or the students, or any other X-Men. This was about her and Remy. His hushed tone made her smile a bit, amused he always seemed to be able to follow her moods and quirks. "Scarf. I don't wanna hurt ya again."
Remy crooked his finger a little and gestured for her to come closer, even if it was near impossible considered they were already only inches apart. He dropped his voice to a whisper, which was rough and almost a purr. "I have a secret for you, belle..." he revealed and then smirked. "I don't have a tendency to carry scarves on me. Ladies underwear could be a whole other story, though."
Rogue blinked, her nose crinkling a little as she tried to think it through, but she did as he wanted and moved a little closer. Her breath caught as she realised how close she was, and his whisper sent shudders of pleasure through her body. "Ladies... underwear? Why would ya carry around ladies underwear, sugar?"
"I don't, but it made you think, didn't it?" Remy said with a devious grin. He wet his lips, remaining as close to her as possible without touch and then shifted back to get up off the bed. He stumbled a little again when his head spun and he glanced back at her. "You really know how to knock a guy off his feet, amour." He went to the pocket of his leather jacket hanging over the back of the chair by the window and produced a black and red bandana, holding it up between his fingers as he sauntered back to the bed.
Rogue had rolled onto her back as she watched him, chewing her lip as those nervous little butterflies picked up again, and she felt a warmth start to spread over her body. She could remember every kissed they had shared perfectly, and now she was going to get to kiss him again. And this time she wouldn't have to run off in fear like hours earlier. "I'm special like that," she said with a soft laugh. "Ya really know how to get inside a girl's head."
Remy slid back onto the bed and straddled over her. He smirked down at her, trailing the edge of the bandana over her lips teasingly. "Tomorrow we start working on your control, mon cherie," he told her, a no-arguments tone edging the words. "I'll hit Hank up for more Aspirin."
She sucked in a breath as her back arched a little, her hands clutching his bedspread as opposed to him. If she put her hands on him, she wasn't exactly sure this would stop at a kiss. She gave a nod, too scared to try and speak in case it came out as a whimper. The Remy in her head was smirking as much as the one above her.
"Close your eyes, chaton," Remy directed in whisper. He leaned closer and ghosted his lips near hers without touching. His breath tickled over her lips and he trailed his eyes down over her pale skin at her throat and chest. He was aware of his heart beating in his chest and sending a throbbing pulse right down to his nether regions. He wet his lips as if anticipating eating a fine delicacy. The truth was, it was Rogue's forbidden touch that always burnt the fire of desire hotter and wilder inside him. He had always had a thing for what he wasn't allowed to have.
Touch in general was something that was forbidden for Rogue, but Remy's was something she'd craved ever since she'd met him. How she'd managed to not give into temptation in their earlier days at Xavier's she would never know. They'd always used scarves, and the kisses had been stolen. Even now she almost felt like she was stealing something, but Remy was the thief here. She looked at his face for a moment longer before she closed her eyes and tried not to give in to the cold knot of fear that was starting to tighten in her stomach. Remy would keep her safe, Remy would always keep her safe. "S'il vous plaît..."
Remy laid the scarf over her lips and as he breached the gap between them, couldn't help rocking forward a little, his hips pressing against her with a delicious friction between them. The kiss was soft at first, giving her time to remember what it was like and then he increased the intensity just a little. It wasn't going to be enough, though. A kiss would never be enough with her to satiate him. But Rogue was different to all the other girls and he wouldn't take advantage without it being give and take. And it was too soon. Time. So much had passed between them already, and if what Logan said was true, a little more wasn't going to hurt either of them.
Rogue released her grip on the bed covers as her arms snaked around his waist, and her gloved hands pushed up his back. The friction made her moan and she shifted under him, already starting to get aroused again. Damn Remy LeBeau and damn her ability to respond to him so readily. She returned the kiss, their tongues dampening the bandanna and making it easier for her to start to explore the depths of his mouth as she moaned again.
He would have continued it, but he didn't. He pulled back, licking his lips with his red eyes heavy and filled with lust. He let out a slow breath and the smirk was back, it ever a regular feature on Remy's lips. "Some things never do really change," he told her and tucked her hair back off her face. He stayed straddled over her and pressed close to her and the smirk turned into a smile that was veiled but hid much behind it.
Rogue was waiting for her impulse to flee to kick in, but it didn't. She stayed there with her arms wrapped around Remy, brown eyes flicking between his red ones, and his mouth. She had no plans to move for a while yet. It was beyond comfortable on Remy's bed, trapped underneath him. She took a moment to consider what it would be like to wake up next to him and sighed as a slow smile spread across her own lips. Some things really didn't change, but some things did. And it wasn't always bad.
Part of Remy/Rogue's verse: luxure
Word Count | 3,110