Skimming Untouchable Skin [NC-17; Pyro/Rogue]
Title: Skimming Untouchable Skin
Author: worblehat
Genre: X-Men
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Pyro/Rogue
Disclaimer: Not my characters whatsoever.
Summary: Rogue wonders what it's like to be touched, and John might be the person who is able to show her.
Word Count: 1,717
From the moment Rogue had smiled her first smile at Xavier's school, she'd been Bobby's. First his friend; then, shyly, his girlfriend. It was something anyone could see plainly after a few minutes around them. The tender, hesitant smiles between them, the way they touched without touching, both eager for more but holding back because of Rogue's powers.
John didn't have patience for that.
It was a night of cold vodka sipped eagerly that had landed Rogue in his room. She'd come seeking Bobby, who had skulked off to the library, determined to cram for their exam the next day. John didn't drink often, but he'd managed to liberate a bottle of liquor and was using it to celebrate the night alone. He liked Bobby; Bobby had been his first friend at school, after all. But sometimes, John really felt the need to be alone.
So, when she'd first come in, asking if she couldn't stay for a bit, John felt annoyed. The one night he'd gotten to himself, alcohol warming his body pleasantly, was now being ruined by a polite smile and avoidant eyes. He wanted to tell her to leave but the way she said "please?" and her promise to keep quiet made him shrug and tell her it would be fine. He'd even, after a few minutes, offered her something to drink. She'd accepted gracefully.
Somehow, they'd ended up on the floor. The cold, wooden boards felt nice against their otherwise heated bodies. Rogue laughed easily at John's jokes, going silent when he edged closer to her. She stiffened, and John could practically hear the "maybe we shouldn't" line she normally used on Bobby at night forming on her lips before he turned toward her.
"Don't say it," he'd whispered.
She'd blinked at him. "What?"
He moved closer, running his fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face. In the dim light, she looked vulnerable - something that pulled at John, made him want to take advantage. "Shhh," he said as gently as he could manage before slipping his hand around her hair, using it as a barrier between his palm and her neck as he drew her closer, pressing their lips together. Rogue squirmed a little and John pressed harder, his tongue sneaking between her lips, tasting the warmth, the uncertainty, the raw want so long held back.
His body shook as she kissed him in turn, energy drawn out of him with each press of her tongue against his. He pulled back, listening to her ragged breathing as the kiss broke. He looked at her, trying to control his body.
Maybe it was the inherent danger lined on her skin that so enticed him: he'd never really been interested in what was easy. Pyro liked a challenge.
He slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers finding the familiar metallic coolness of the lighter he'd had for so many years, drawing strength from it, letting the promise of flames and heat fill his veins.
He smiled at her mischievously. "What's it like?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" asked Rogue, her cheeks still flushed, eyes focused on the ground, apparently too embarrassed to meet John's own.
"Not being able to touch anyone," he said matter-of-factly. "Not being able to be touched," he added somewhat more suggestively.
Rogue's eyes went blurry for a few seconds; John simply watched. "It hurts," she said finally, her eyes chancing a look at him before lowering once more.
John reached for her arm, pulling her up, easing her onto his bed. He straddled her quickly, bending down for a quick, simple kiss. "Just trust me."
"But-"
"Trust. Me."
Rogue's voice was small, reminding Pyro a little of a child denied a treat. "Okay," she whispered. He let his eyes follow the curves of her body, taking in every bit of covered skin. Slowly, his hands began pulling at the unwanted clothing, beginning with her shirt, ending with her skirt - simple and white. No doubt she'd worn it for Bobby - something that made John's smirk widen as he realised just who would be enjoying her efforts at temptation.
"Close your eyes," he commanded, his voice rough. Rogue shut her eyes and John removed his lighter from his pocket, clicking it open with ease. He watched her thoughtfully. "I promise not to hurt you," he said, almost coldly. "Just keep your eyes closed."
Rogue quivered under his touch as he slid back, his hands urging her legs apart, creating a space between them for him to sit on the bed. He raised her gloved hands above her head, watching as they held his pillow tightly under her head. She whimpered as his thumb stroked the rounded part of the lighter, eyes flickering hungrily at the new flame.
"Relax," he whispered. Rogue whimpered a little and John smiled. One hand covered the small flame, letting it grow as he removed his fingers. He watched as the flames skated over Rogue's body, keeping a soft distance. Rogue's eyelids flickered as she let out another noise of distress.
"Keep your eyes closed," he warned.
John watched her throat as she swallowed her unease. "I'm scared, John," she said.
"Don't worry," he answered, fingers touching her lips lightly. "You'll like this."
She smiled a little bit, her lips warm and red in the firelight. John sat back a little more, watching as his flames leapt across her skin, eating at the fabric still lying on her body. He watched the beauty of her frame just before closing his eyes.
Flames encircled both their bodies, providing a thin coccoon around him as he leaned down, hands on either side of her body. He leaned down, kissing her. She was crying slightly as his hands slipped up her stomach, fingers curling over around her breasts, squeezing. She bucked upward into his touch, gasping as she felt his heat-covered hardness against her. He pushed it slowly, deliberately against her, listening to the soft-wet sounds of their bodies pressing against each other, separated just enough for Pyro to be able to touch, protected by the fire he was now able to control perfectly.
He pushed, rubbing his body against hers, cock swollen with need. He held his lighter tightly, knowing it would be the only thing to keep him steady as he slipped the head of his length, unprotected by familiar heat, inside her. She arched up, legs wrapping around him. He laughed and pushed in harder, moving quickly, before he passed out. Rogue moaned, head thrown back, eyes still shut.
"Come...now," he breathed, feeling his arms begin to shake, giving out. "Now," he said, half-begging, half-needing.
"O-okay..." breathed Rogue, her legs tightening around him, forcing him deeper inside. Her body went rigid as she came, fingernails digging into him beneath covered hands. He watched her face, enjoying the way her head pulled back on its own, falling against his pillow. He enjoyed the way the dark hair fell across his covers as he pressed against her; body, for once, too warm as he felt his body tighten.
"Fuck," he hissed as he came inside her, warmth spurting from his cock. He held her closely, pressing his lips to hers as he let the flames around them die, his body going limp. He breathed in, then out, smiling as she eased him off of her, lying on her side, slipping under his covers as he laid above them. Her fingernails traced the edge of his chin, slipping down his neck.
John blinked, room darkening as he slept.
***
It was early in the morning when he felt her shake him awake. He coughed, his body tired, feeling stretched and worn. John stared blankly as Rogue smiled. She was wearing his clothing, her own having been burnt the previous night. Struggling towards consciousness, he felt a possessive streak of satisfaction as he let his fingers trail down her stomach once more, enjoying the way his clothing looked against her pale skin.
"Thanks, St. John," she said easily. "That was really nice."
"Don't mention it," he answered groggily. "You going now?"
Rogue seemed taken aback at the suggestion. "Um. I guess so."
"Okay," he said, closing his eyes, trying to adjust the weakness still flowing through his body. Rogue seemed to hesitate before finally pushing back the covers and moving off the bed. John heard her putting on her shoes, fumbling slightly. He smiled.
Rogue gasped when she felt Pyro's hands on her shoulder, pulling her down. He sat up, lips meeting hers more clumsily than he would have liked, tasting that same, hesitant sweetness that had enticed him the previous night.
He lied back down on the bed, grinning up at her, breathing hard. Rogue was watching him, eyes scared, mouth open; lips swollen. Their eyes met for long moments, John's gaze serious, Rogue's fingers covering her lips in disbelief.
"You better get going," he said seriously. "Don't want to be late for class."
It took her several seconds to respond. "What are you going to do?"
His brow creased slightly in mock-thoughtfulness. "Me?" he replied, exhaling with effort. "I guess I'll take the day off."
Rogue nodded, turning to leave. She looked back at him, over her shoulder, her gaze longing and shy. She looked the same as she ever did, with only the barest trace of sharpness around her eyes - something John couldn't remember seeing before the previous night. He let his head sink further into the pillow, self-satisfaction lining his lips.
"Come back Friday after class," he said quietly. "Bobby's got detention."
Rogue's smile was genuine, all traces of sadness wiped away, her smirk almost matching John's own in sly content. "You'd better have something better than vodka to entice me," she said coyly before opening the door and leaving.
John quirked an eyebrow at the empty room. "Oh, I will," he retorted before closing his eyes once more.
He'd be needing his strength, after all.
Author: worblehat
Genre: X-Men
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Pyro/Rogue
Disclaimer: Not my characters whatsoever.
Summary: Rogue wonders what it's like to be touched, and John might be the person who is able to show her.
Word Count: 1,717
From the moment Rogue had smiled her first smile at Xavier's school, she'd been Bobby's. First his friend; then, shyly, his girlfriend. It was something anyone could see plainly after a few minutes around them. The tender, hesitant smiles between them, the way they touched without touching, both eager for more but holding back because of Rogue's powers.
John didn't have patience for that.
It was a night of cold vodka sipped eagerly that had landed Rogue in his room. She'd come seeking Bobby, who had skulked off to the library, determined to cram for their exam the next day. John didn't drink often, but he'd managed to liberate a bottle of liquor and was using it to celebrate the night alone. He liked Bobby; Bobby had been his first friend at school, after all. But sometimes, John really felt the need to be alone.
So, when she'd first come in, asking if she couldn't stay for a bit, John felt annoyed. The one night he'd gotten to himself, alcohol warming his body pleasantly, was now being ruined by a polite smile and avoidant eyes. He wanted to tell her to leave but the way she said "please?" and her promise to keep quiet made him shrug and tell her it would be fine. He'd even, after a few minutes, offered her something to drink. She'd accepted gracefully.
Somehow, they'd ended up on the floor. The cold, wooden boards felt nice against their otherwise heated bodies. Rogue laughed easily at John's jokes, going silent when he edged closer to her. She stiffened, and John could practically hear the "maybe we shouldn't" line she normally used on Bobby at night forming on her lips before he turned toward her.
"Don't say it," he'd whispered.
She'd blinked at him. "What?"
He moved closer, running his fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face. In the dim light, she looked vulnerable - something that pulled at John, made him want to take advantage. "Shhh," he said as gently as he could manage before slipping his hand around her hair, using it as a barrier between his palm and her neck as he drew her closer, pressing their lips together. Rogue squirmed a little and John pressed harder, his tongue sneaking between her lips, tasting the warmth, the uncertainty, the raw want so long held back.
His body shook as she kissed him in turn, energy drawn out of him with each press of her tongue against his. He pulled back, listening to her ragged breathing as the kiss broke. He looked at her, trying to control his body.
Maybe it was the inherent danger lined on her skin that so enticed him: he'd never really been interested in what was easy. Pyro liked a challenge.
He slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers finding the familiar metallic coolness of the lighter he'd had for so many years, drawing strength from it, letting the promise of flames and heat fill his veins.
He smiled at her mischievously. "What's it like?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" asked Rogue, her cheeks still flushed, eyes focused on the ground, apparently too embarrassed to meet John's own.
"Not being able to touch anyone," he said matter-of-factly. "Not being able to be touched," he added somewhat more suggestively.
Rogue's eyes went blurry for a few seconds; John simply watched. "It hurts," she said finally, her eyes chancing a look at him before lowering once more.
John reached for her arm, pulling her up, easing her onto his bed. He straddled her quickly, bending down for a quick, simple kiss. "Just trust me."
"But-"
"Trust. Me."
Rogue's voice was small, reminding Pyro a little of a child denied a treat. "Okay," she whispered. He let his eyes follow the curves of her body, taking in every bit of covered skin. Slowly, his hands began pulling at the unwanted clothing, beginning with her shirt, ending with her skirt - simple and white. No doubt she'd worn it for Bobby - something that made John's smirk widen as he realised just who would be enjoying her efforts at temptation.
"Close your eyes," he commanded, his voice rough. Rogue shut her eyes and John removed his lighter from his pocket, clicking it open with ease. He watched her thoughtfully. "I promise not to hurt you," he said, almost coldly. "Just keep your eyes closed."
Rogue quivered under his touch as he slid back, his hands urging her legs apart, creating a space between them for him to sit on the bed. He raised her gloved hands above her head, watching as they held his pillow tightly under her head. She whimpered as his thumb stroked the rounded part of the lighter, eyes flickering hungrily at the new flame.
"Relax," he whispered. Rogue whimpered a little and John smiled. One hand covered the small flame, letting it grow as he removed his fingers. He watched as the flames skated over Rogue's body, keeping a soft distance. Rogue's eyelids flickered as she let out another noise of distress.
"Keep your eyes closed," he warned.
John watched her throat as she swallowed her unease. "I'm scared, John," she said.
"Don't worry," he answered, fingers touching her lips lightly. "You'll like this."
She smiled a little bit, her lips warm and red in the firelight. John sat back a little more, watching as his flames leapt across her skin, eating at the fabric still lying on her body. He watched the beauty of her frame just before closing his eyes.
Flames encircled both their bodies, providing a thin coccoon around him as he leaned down, hands on either side of her body. He leaned down, kissing her. She was crying slightly as his hands slipped up her stomach, fingers curling over around her breasts, squeezing. She bucked upward into his touch, gasping as she felt his heat-covered hardness against her. He pushed it slowly, deliberately against her, listening to the soft-wet sounds of their bodies pressing against each other, separated just enough for Pyro to be able to touch, protected by the fire he was now able to control perfectly.
He pushed, rubbing his body against hers, cock swollen with need. He held his lighter tightly, knowing it would be the only thing to keep him steady as he slipped the head of his length, unprotected by familiar heat, inside her. She arched up, legs wrapping around him. He laughed and pushed in harder, moving quickly, before he passed out. Rogue moaned, head thrown back, eyes still shut.
"Come...now," he breathed, feeling his arms begin to shake, giving out. "Now," he said, half-begging, half-needing.
"O-okay..." breathed Rogue, her legs tightening around him, forcing him deeper inside. Her body went rigid as she came, fingernails digging into him beneath covered hands. He watched her face, enjoying the way her head pulled back on its own, falling against his pillow. He enjoyed the way the dark hair fell across his covers as he pressed against her; body, for once, too warm as he felt his body tighten.
"Fuck," he hissed as he came inside her, warmth spurting from his cock. He held her closely, pressing his lips to hers as he let the flames around them die, his body going limp. He breathed in, then out, smiling as she eased him off of her, lying on her side, slipping under his covers as he laid above them. Her fingernails traced the edge of his chin, slipping down his neck.
John blinked, room darkening as he slept.
***
It was early in the morning when he felt her shake him awake. He coughed, his body tired, feeling stretched and worn. John stared blankly as Rogue smiled. She was wearing his clothing, her own having been burnt the previous night. Struggling towards consciousness, he felt a possessive streak of satisfaction as he let his fingers trail down her stomach once more, enjoying the way his clothing looked against her pale skin.
"Thanks, St. John," she said easily. "That was really nice."
"Don't mention it," he answered groggily. "You going now?"
Rogue seemed taken aback at the suggestion. "Um. I guess so."
"Okay," he said, closing his eyes, trying to adjust the weakness still flowing through his body. Rogue seemed to hesitate before finally pushing back the covers and moving off the bed. John heard her putting on her shoes, fumbling slightly. He smiled.
Rogue gasped when she felt Pyro's hands on her shoulder, pulling her down. He sat up, lips meeting hers more clumsily than he would have liked, tasting that same, hesitant sweetness that had enticed him the previous night.
He lied back down on the bed, grinning up at her, breathing hard. Rogue was watching him, eyes scared, mouth open; lips swollen. Their eyes met for long moments, John's gaze serious, Rogue's fingers covering her lips in disbelief.
"You better get going," he said seriously. "Don't want to be late for class."
It took her several seconds to respond. "What are you going to do?"
His brow creased slightly in mock-thoughtfulness. "Me?" he replied, exhaling with effort. "I guess I'll take the day off."
Rogue nodded, turning to leave. She looked back at him, over her shoulder, her gaze longing and shy. She looked the same as she ever did, with only the barest trace of sharpness around her eyes - something John couldn't remember seeing before the previous night. He let his head sink further into the pillow, self-satisfaction lining his lips.
"Come back Friday after class," he said quietly. "Bobby's got detention."
Rogue's smile was genuine, all traces of sadness wiped away, her smirk almost matching John's own in sly content. "You'd better have something better than vodka to entice me," she said coyly before opening the door and leaving.
John quirked an eyebrow at the empty room. "Oh, I will," he retorted before closing his eyes once more.
He'd be needing his strength, after all.