Challenge Fic: Long Night, Rated T. Magneto/Rogue
Title: Long Night
Author: Sionnain
Fandom: X-Men
Pairing: Magneto/Rogue
'Verse: My Ideology-verse, which is now AU-Movieverse thanks to X3.
Rating: T for language
Summary: A lack of sleep leads to tension.
AN: Written for the Demented_Allure Weekly Challenge: "A Day in the Life." Thanks to Willowaus for the beta! This was inspired by my lack of sleep last night, which left me very cranky this morning.
Rogue was curled up on the chair in the small hotel room, absently flipping through one of the complimentary magazines and wondering what the hell she was doing there. Erik had been either on the phone or using the laptop since they’d arrived, and was apparently planning their next target, but she had done nothing more useful than buy him a bottle of water when she’d gone to get a Coke from the vending machine.
He was obviously not in a good mood, if his pacing and continual muttering under his breath was any indication. She was being very quiet and trying to be unobtrusive, so she’d left the television off, but she’d not been given enough warning that she was accompanying him to pack anything to read.
She was very bored, truth be told, and the hotel was right next to the highway. To make matters worse, their room was across from the elevators. It was also some sort of big weekend in whatever town they were in, and a lot of loud and excited football fans were screaming in the hallways.
Rogue didn’t really hate humans. As much as she believed in Magneto’s rather Darwinian ideology, she didn’t want them all to die slow, painful deaths or anything. At least, that’s what she’d have said if anyone asked her before she showed up at this hotel.
Now, slow painful deaths sounded kind of nice. At least it would be quiet afterwards.
He slammed his hand against the wall, surprising her, and she made the mistake of meeting his eyes. Rogue wasn’t stupid, and she wasn’t about to say something he would take as an attack-like what the hell is your problem? or even just, what?--but he was obviously so irritated that just looking at him was a bad idea.
“What?” He snapped at her, and Rogue shrugged very carefully before standing up.
“Nothing,” she said evenly. “Gonna go take a shower.” She escaped into the bathroom, sighing in relief when the door remained closed. She showered longer than she really needed to, both in the luxury of having enough hot water to do so and in the hopes he’d be in a better mood when she was finished.
By the time she opened the bathroom door that led back into the bedroom, it was dark. She thought for a second he’d gone out, and remained still as she waited for her eyes to adjust. He was in bed already, and she moved quietly to where she’d dropped her bags, trying her best not to make a lot of noise as she changed her clothes.
She thought she heard him make an annoyed sort of sound, but maybe that was only her imagination. She crawled into bed and curled up on her side, staring at the wall, feeling vaguely discomforted.
Time ticked by. She tried everything she could to fall asleep; counting backwards, trying to relax her muscles one by one, imagining the excitable football fans falling down the elevator shaft.
Nothing worked. The room was too hot, the bed uncomfortable, and she liked sleeping with two pillows instead of one. She was fairly certain if she mentioned this to Erik, he’d make her go sleep in the car.
She lay still as death in the bed, until finally she had no choice but to shift to find a more comfortable position. Predictably, he snapped, “Stop fidgeting,” at her the moment she moved.
She didn’t answer, refusing to give in to his bad mood. Maybe she could just pretend to be asleep. Rogue went back to the muscle-relaxing thing, and just as she was drifting off to sleep, she got a rather painful Charlie Horse in her calf and bolted upright, reaching blindly for her calf.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” he snapped, and she ignored him and flexed her foot, rubbing at the painful cramp insistently, trying to take deep, calming breaths.
“I believe I asked you a question,” he said in that same infuriating tone, and Rogue lost her temper.
“Oh, shut up,” she said irritably. Her calf hurt very badly. This sucked.
She must have shocked him into brief silence, because she heard nothing further until she found herself suddenly pinned to the bed with his hands forcing hers to the mattress, him leaning threateningly over her smaller form. “Do you wish to sleep on the floor?”
“Yeah,” Rogue snapped, glaring up at him in the darkness. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
It was too dark to see his expression, but he released her immediately. “Fine. Do so, then. You’re keeping me awake.”
Glaring daggers at him, she grabbed her pillow and grasped at the blanket, but he gave a low warning sort of growl and she gritted her teeth and left it there. Fine. I’ll sleep on the floor and he can have the stupid blanket.
Outside, there was a loud cheer and the sound of someone running down the hallway. Rogue stretched out on the floor, which was very hard, jamming her arm beneath the pillow almost defiantly. She would have a good night’s sleep if it killed her.
There was sudden barrage of noise from the highway, followed by the ding of the elevators. People were shouting again and laughing. The floor was starting to hurt her back. Rogue gave up and stared at the ceiling, resigned to a night of no sleep.
“Would you stop being childish and get back up here?”
“Dunno. You gonna stop being an ass?”
“I’m not entirely certain I care for this tone of yours,” he said arrogantly, and Rogue stood up slowly, grasping the pillow in her hand.
Without warning, she threw it at his general direction, smirking as he sat up and batted it away. It wasn’t a very mature thing to do, but she didn’t care. “Yeah, well, I don’t care for yours either.”
Before he could say or do anything in response to that, Rogue finally had it with the exuberant fans outside in the hallway. She marched across the room and yanked the door open. “Shut up,” she said succinctly, narrowing her eyes at two drunk men in red-and-black baseball caps.
“Sorry,” they hiccupped, hands up. “We’re…we’re sorry. Hey, you’re kinda cute. You wanna come party with us? We just won the division championships!” They high-five’d each other and starting singing.
“No, I want to sleep,” Rogue snapped, wondering if she could hide their bodies somewhere if she gave into temptation and snapped their worthless, inebriated necks. “Could you please shut the fuck up?”
They blinked a bit blearily, and then shrugged, their expressions turning a bit sour at her rebuke. “Sure thing, stupid cunt,” one of them said nastily, and Rogue smiled.
“Thanks. I needed an excuse,” she hissed, and would have taken off after him if not for the hand wrapped around her arm. Erik yanked her back in the room and slammed the door, obviously furious.
“I don’t think so. I’m not entirely in the mood to hide bodies,” he snapped at her, shoving her away from him. “Get back in bed.”
Rogue complied, shaking with nerves, physically biting her lip to keep from making him any angrier. She couldn’t sleep, but maybe she could just…lie there…until morning.
“Why couldn’t I have just hurt him a little?” she said suddenly, sitting up. She raked a hand through her hair and glared at him just because she could.
“Because that would be stupid, and why are we still talking?” He was lying on his back, and though she couldn’t see his face she suspected he was glaring just as fiercely as she was.
“Why did you bring me with you? We got something to do in the morning?”
“Maybe,” he said, infuriatingly. “Maybe not. Maybe I just like your company.”
“Really? Could’ve fooled me,” she muttered, lying back down next to him, hands behind her head. There was another contingent of loud fans and another near-accident on the highway. Rogue groaned and pulled the pillow over her head.
“If you weren’t acting like a brat, possibly I would like you more,” he said, and she removed the pillow and rolled her eyes.
“Right. Cause I was being so annoying before you provoked me and yelled at me for the horrible crime of having a cramp in my calf-”
“If you hadn’t been so fidgety, that wouldn’t have happened-”
The injustice of that comment infuriated her. “If you hadn’t been determined to make me mad, then maybe-”
“I was only determined to sleep--”
“Oh, fine, Erik, if you believe that then maybe I’m-”
“Being a bitch? Perhaps that young man was right when he called you a-”
Rogue sat up, shaking. “If you finish that sentence, I will never, ever sleep with you again,” she hissed, so angry she was about to hit him, and not with the pillow, consequences be damned.
“Are you so sure I’d mind?”
She felt like he’d slapped her. Slowly, she sat up and got out of the bed, stumbling blindly in the darkness to find the chair by the window. Miserable, she curled up in it, blinking back irrational tears. “I guess not,” she said softly.
There was silence from the bed. Rogue turned her face into the cushion of the chair, hating herself for crying, but there was something sort of nice about the release of it even though she was upset.
She was determined that he not hear her, but he probably did, and just didn’t care. Rogue wiped her eyes and tried to find a comfortable position, her heart racing. What did this mean? Was she supposed to move her things out of their room when they got back? She’d always told him if this were to end between them, she’d still fight for him, but it was going to be humiliating…
“Marie.”
She winced, but didn’t answer.
He sighed. “I-that was rather cruel of me. I’m sorry.”
She was a little startled by his apology but sufficiently wary of it not to just accept it at face value. “You know, I was trying to be quiet. I knew you were in a bad mood.”
“I know. I could tell. I don’t like your pandering to me like that.”
“So I can do nothing right, you’re sick of sleeping with me, and you think I’m a bitch. Or a cunt,” she said with a rough laugh. “Thanks, Erik. Apology appreciated.”
“You know, Marie, you should-”
Rogue stood up, shaking her head, interrupting him. “No, Erik. Listen to me, would you? I know you hate to hear this, because we’re not supposed to talk about it, but you tried to kill me.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It has everything to do with…everything! Do you think it’s easy for me, just to forget that? To be in love with someone who would have done that to me? To follow you? To give you my loyalty and my body and-” exhausted, she pressed a trembling hand to her face. “Never mind,” she said dully. “Just never mind. If you want to end this, fine.”
“Would you come here, please?”
She nearly said no, but his voice wasn’t autocratic; it was just tired. Warily, she approached him, and sat down gingerly at the edge of the bed. He took her hand in his own, his thumb rubbing lightly against the cotton of her gloves.
“I’m in a bad mood, yes. I had Mystique spend the better part of the last two months gathering intelligence information on a military base here, only to find out that thanks to a recent government overhaul of security procedures, I shall be required to plan this entire operation from the very beginning. It would not be quite so vexing were this not the second time it has happened.”
Rogue stared down at him, silent. She had no idea what this had to do with anything.
“I had a sinking suspicion this may occur, and that is why I brought you with me.”
“So you could tell me you no longer wanted me while in the midst of a temper?” Her voice was unconvinced.
“No. Because I knew I’d be angry.” He tugged her towards him; she went unresisting, but her body was tense, her muscles tight, as he pulled her to lie on top of him.
“Again, why-”
He didn’t answer her. Instead, he took her face between his palms and kissed her, hard, so that she couldn’t pull away. He didn’t stop when the pull started, and in a few moments, she understood why he’d brought her there and why he’d been so annoyed about it.
He didn’t want to want anything from her. Not, that was, anything beyond physical comfort. This emotional attachment was, to him, both dangerous and unwanted, yet undeniably appealing. Still, he rebelled against it because he was not a man who easily allowed himself to be bound to anyone else.
He most certainly felt himself bound to her, for reasons far beyond physical intimacy or the white in her hair that tied them together even without said intimacy. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, hence his rather horrid behavior.
Wanting you makes me weak.
It wasn’t a compliment, but it made sense. She relaxed a little, taking deep breaths as she waited for him to recover. His heart was racing beneath her ear.
“If it makes you weak, it makes me psychotic,” she murmured, raising her head to look at him. She smiled a little. “This has never made sense, not ever. It won’t, either. We’ll be dead in the grave and never understand it.”
“Yes.” His hand was stroking her hair, lightly. “My apologies for saying those things to you, regardless. I should have more control over myself.” His voice became amused. “Though, I was serious about the fidgeting causing your leg cramp.”
She hit him lightly on the chest, wondering if he knew just how bad he was at apologies. It was like the time he’d left something in the middle of the floor and she’d tripped right over it in the dark, to which he’d responded, “Learn to watch where you’re going.” Still, he rarely apologized, so she wasn’t about to ruin it by quibbling over details.
“Uh-huh. Sorry I threw a pillow at you and yelled at those guys,” she murmured, suddenly drowsy. She stretched out on top of him. “This is much more comfortable.”
“Mmm. It is. Go to sleep,” he said, but this time, she didn’t argue with him.
Author: Sionnain
Fandom: X-Men
Pairing: Magneto/Rogue
'Verse: My Ideology-verse, which is now AU-Movieverse thanks to X3.
Rating: T for language
Summary: A lack of sleep leads to tension.
AN: Written for the Demented_Allure Weekly Challenge: "A Day in the Life." Thanks to Willowaus for the beta! This was inspired by my lack of sleep last night, which left me very cranky this morning.
Rogue was curled up on the chair in the small hotel room, absently flipping through one of the complimentary magazines and wondering what the hell she was doing there. Erik had been either on the phone or using the laptop since they’d arrived, and was apparently planning their next target, but she had done nothing more useful than buy him a bottle of water when she’d gone to get a Coke from the vending machine.
He was obviously not in a good mood, if his pacing and continual muttering under his breath was any indication. She was being very quiet and trying to be unobtrusive, so she’d left the television off, but she’d not been given enough warning that she was accompanying him to pack anything to read.
She was very bored, truth be told, and the hotel was right next to the highway. To make matters worse, their room was across from the elevators. It was also some sort of big weekend in whatever town they were in, and a lot of loud and excited football fans were screaming in the hallways.
Rogue didn’t really hate humans. As much as she believed in Magneto’s rather Darwinian ideology, she didn’t want them all to die slow, painful deaths or anything. At least, that’s what she’d have said if anyone asked her before she showed up at this hotel.
Now, slow painful deaths sounded kind of nice. At least it would be quiet afterwards.
He slammed his hand against the wall, surprising her, and she made the mistake of meeting his eyes. Rogue wasn’t stupid, and she wasn’t about to say something he would take as an attack-like what the hell is your problem? or even just, what?--but he was obviously so irritated that just looking at him was a bad idea.
“What?” He snapped at her, and Rogue shrugged very carefully before standing up.
“Nothing,” she said evenly. “Gonna go take a shower.” She escaped into the bathroom, sighing in relief when the door remained closed. She showered longer than she really needed to, both in the luxury of having enough hot water to do so and in the hopes he’d be in a better mood when she was finished.
By the time she opened the bathroom door that led back into the bedroom, it was dark. She thought for a second he’d gone out, and remained still as she waited for her eyes to adjust. He was in bed already, and she moved quietly to where she’d dropped her bags, trying her best not to make a lot of noise as she changed her clothes.
She thought she heard him make an annoyed sort of sound, but maybe that was only her imagination. She crawled into bed and curled up on her side, staring at the wall, feeling vaguely discomforted.
Time ticked by. She tried everything she could to fall asleep; counting backwards, trying to relax her muscles one by one, imagining the excitable football fans falling down the elevator shaft.
Nothing worked. The room was too hot, the bed uncomfortable, and she liked sleeping with two pillows instead of one. She was fairly certain if she mentioned this to Erik, he’d make her go sleep in the car.
She lay still as death in the bed, until finally she had no choice but to shift to find a more comfortable position. Predictably, he snapped, “Stop fidgeting,” at her the moment she moved.
She didn’t answer, refusing to give in to his bad mood. Maybe she could just pretend to be asleep. Rogue went back to the muscle-relaxing thing, and just as she was drifting off to sleep, she got a rather painful Charlie Horse in her calf and bolted upright, reaching blindly for her calf.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” he snapped, and she ignored him and flexed her foot, rubbing at the painful cramp insistently, trying to take deep, calming breaths.
“I believe I asked you a question,” he said in that same infuriating tone, and Rogue lost her temper.
“Oh, shut up,” she said irritably. Her calf hurt very badly. This sucked.
She must have shocked him into brief silence, because she heard nothing further until she found herself suddenly pinned to the bed with his hands forcing hers to the mattress, him leaning threateningly over her smaller form. “Do you wish to sleep on the floor?”
“Yeah,” Rogue snapped, glaring up at him in the darkness. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
It was too dark to see his expression, but he released her immediately. “Fine. Do so, then. You’re keeping me awake.”
Glaring daggers at him, she grabbed her pillow and grasped at the blanket, but he gave a low warning sort of growl and she gritted her teeth and left it there. Fine. I’ll sleep on the floor and he can have the stupid blanket.
Outside, there was a loud cheer and the sound of someone running down the hallway. Rogue stretched out on the floor, which was very hard, jamming her arm beneath the pillow almost defiantly. She would have a good night’s sleep if it killed her.
There was sudden barrage of noise from the highway, followed by the ding of the elevators. People were shouting again and laughing. The floor was starting to hurt her back. Rogue gave up and stared at the ceiling, resigned to a night of no sleep.
“Would you stop being childish and get back up here?”
“Dunno. You gonna stop being an ass?”
“I’m not entirely certain I care for this tone of yours,” he said arrogantly, and Rogue stood up slowly, grasping the pillow in her hand.
Without warning, she threw it at his general direction, smirking as he sat up and batted it away. It wasn’t a very mature thing to do, but she didn’t care. “Yeah, well, I don’t care for yours either.”
Before he could say or do anything in response to that, Rogue finally had it with the exuberant fans outside in the hallway. She marched across the room and yanked the door open. “Shut up,” she said succinctly, narrowing her eyes at two drunk men in red-and-black baseball caps.
“Sorry,” they hiccupped, hands up. “We’re…we’re sorry. Hey, you’re kinda cute. You wanna come party with us? We just won the division championships!” They high-five’d each other and starting singing.
“No, I want to sleep,” Rogue snapped, wondering if she could hide their bodies somewhere if she gave into temptation and snapped their worthless, inebriated necks. “Could you please shut the fuck up?”
They blinked a bit blearily, and then shrugged, their expressions turning a bit sour at her rebuke. “Sure thing, stupid cunt,” one of them said nastily, and Rogue smiled.
“Thanks. I needed an excuse,” she hissed, and would have taken off after him if not for the hand wrapped around her arm. Erik yanked her back in the room and slammed the door, obviously furious.
“I don’t think so. I’m not entirely in the mood to hide bodies,” he snapped at her, shoving her away from him. “Get back in bed.”
Rogue complied, shaking with nerves, physically biting her lip to keep from making him any angrier. She couldn’t sleep, but maybe she could just…lie there…until morning.
“Why couldn’t I have just hurt him a little?” she said suddenly, sitting up. She raked a hand through her hair and glared at him just because she could.
“Because that would be stupid, and why are we still talking?” He was lying on his back, and though she couldn’t see his face she suspected he was glaring just as fiercely as she was.
“Why did you bring me with you? We got something to do in the morning?”
“Maybe,” he said, infuriatingly. “Maybe not. Maybe I just like your company.”
“Really? Could’ve fooled me,” she muttered, lying back down next to him, hands behind her head. There was another contingent of loud fans and another near-accident on the highway. Rogue groaned and pulled the pillow over her head.
“If you weren’t acting like a brat, possibly I would like you more,” he said, and she removed the pillow and rolled her eyes.
“Right. Cause I was being so annoying before you provoked me and yelled at me for the horrible crime of having a cramp in my calf-”
“If you hadn’t been so fidgety, that wouldn’t have happened-”
The injustice of that comment infuriated her. “If you hadn’t been determined to make me mad, then maybe-”
“I was only determined to sleep--”
“Oh, fine, Erik, if you believe that then maybe I’m-”
“Being a bitch? Perhaps that young man was right when he called you a-”
Rogue sat up, shaking. “If you finish that sentence, I will never, ever sleep with you again,” she hissed, so angry she was about to hit him, and not with the pillow, consequences be damned.
“Are you so sure I’d mind?”
She felt like he’d slapped her. Slowly, she sat up and got out of the bed, stumbling blindly in the darkness to find the chair by the window. Miserable, she curled up in it, blinking back irrational tears. “I guess not,” she said softly.
There was silence from the bed. Rogue turned her face into the cushion of the chair, hating herself for crying, but there was something sort of nice about the release of it even though she was upset.
She was determined that he not hear her, but he probably did, and just didn’t care. Rogue wiped her eyes and tried to find a comfortable position, her heart racing. What did this mean? Was she supposed to move her things out of their room when they got back? She’d always told him if this were to end between them, she’d still fight for him, but it was going to be humiliating…
“Marie.”
She winced, but didn’t answer.
He sighed. “I-that was rather cruel of me. I’m sorry.”
She was a little startled by his apology but sufficiently wary of it not to just accept it at face value. “You know, I was trying to be quiet. I knew you were in a bad mood.”
“I know. I could tell. I don’t like your pandering to me like that.”
“So I can do nothing right, you’re sick of sleeping with me, and you think I’m a bitch. Or a cunt,” she said with a rough laugh. “Thanks, Erik. Apology appreciated.”
“You know, Marie, you should-”
Rogue stood up, shaking her head, interrupting him. “No, Erik. Listen to me, would you? I know you hate to hear this, because we’re not supposed to talk about it, but you tried to kill me.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It has everything to do with…everything! Do you think it’s easy for me, just to forget that? To be in love with someone who would have done that to me? To follow you? To give you my loyalty and my body and-” exhausted, she pressed a trembling hand to her face. “Never mind,” she said dully. “Just never mind. If you want to end this, fine.”
“Would you come here, please?”
She nearly said no, but his voice wasn’t autocratic; it was just tired. Warily, she approached him, and sat down gingerly at the edge of the bed. He took her hand in his own, his thumb rubbing lightly against the cotton of her gloves.
“I’m in a bad mood, yes. I had Mystique spend the better part of the last two months gathering intelligence information on a military base here, only to find out that thanks to a recent government overhaul of security procedures, I shall be required to plan this entire operation from the very beginning. It would not be quite so vexing were this not the second time it has happened.”
Rogue stared down at him, silent. She had no idea what this had to do with anything.
“I had a sinking suspicion this may occur, and that is why I brought you with me.”
“So you could tell me you no longer wanted me while in the midst of a temper?” Her voice was unconvinced.
“No. Because I knew I’d be angry.” He tugged her towards him; she went unresisting, but her body was tense, her muscles tight, as he pulled her to lie on top of him.
“Again, why-”
He didn’t answer her. Instead, he took her face between his palms and kissed her, hard, so that she couldn’t pull away. He didn’t stop when the pull started, and in a few moments, she understood why he’d brought her there and why he’d been so annoyed about it.
He didn’t want to want anything from her. Not, that was, anything beyond physical comfort. This emotional attachment was, to him, both dangerous and unwanted, yet undeniably appealing. Still, he rebelled against it because he was not a man who easily allowed himself to be bound to anyone else.
He most certainly felt himself bound to her, for reasons far beyond physical intimacy or the white in her hair that tied them together even without said intimacy. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, hence his rather horrid behavior.
Wanting you makes me weak.
It wasn’t a compliment, but it made sense. She relaxed a little, taking deep breaths as she waited for him to recover. His heart was racing beneath her ear.
“If it makes you weak, it makes me psychotic,” she murmured, raising her head to look at him. She smiled a little. “This has never made sense, not ever. It won’t, either. We’ll be dead in the grave and never understand it.”
“Yes.” His hand was stroking her hair, lightly. “My apologies for saying those things to you, regardless. I should have more control over myself.” His voice became amused. “Though, I was serious about the fidgeting causing your leg cramp.”
She hit him lightly on the chest, wondering if he knew just how bad he was at apologies. It was like the time he’d left something in the middle of the floor and she’d tripped right over it in the dark, to which he’d responded, “Learn to watch where you’re going.” Still, he rarely apologized, so she wasn’t about to ruin it by quibbling over details.
“Uh-huh. Sorry I threw a pillow at you and yelled at those guys,” she murmured, suddenly drowsy. She stretched out on top of him. “This is much more comfortable.”
“Mmm. It is. Go to sleep,” he said, but this time, she didn’t argue with him.