Summary: When Rogue takes up Acolyte Gambit in high stakes poker game and loses, the repercussions may change the dynamics of what they are to each other. A frisky little Romy oneshot.
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men nor am I affiliated with Marvel in any way.
Author's Notes: This is a scene I had been working on for another fic, but ultimately never used. I came across it again and played with it, changing it from movieverse Romy into Evo Romy instead. At the time, this scene didn't work with the story I had been working on and I had thought it'd make a great, saucy, little oneshot. Now after giving it a new angle I'm thinking of ways to actually develop it into a chapter story. For the time being it is still just a saucy, little oneshot. As per usual I write with minimal accents, we all know our leads have them, I prefer the power of imagination over all my misspelled words and apostophes.
Happy Birthday Chica De Los Ojos Cafe! Hope this naughty little fic ads to your day!
Rogue's eyes widened in horror; she had just lost. She stared at her hand, a full house, beaten by his royal flush. She never should have started this game with him. Surely he wouldn't keep her to the game rules they had laid out before beginning. Surely he'd let her keep her bra on.
The smirk on his face made her cheeks flush a deep red, and confirmed that he had no intention of forfeiting his prize.
Fuck.
There was no way she was ever going to be playing this game again. She had honestly had no idea that she would turn out to be a high stakes roller...she had also honestly thought she had the winning hand. She took a deep breath and straightened her back. There was no way she was going to be a sore loser. After all, a deal is a deal. She slowly moved her hands behind her back to unclasp her bra.
Gambit inhaled sharply in anticipation, his eyes widened eagerly. Of course he wanted to see the goods. Hell, he'd even leaned forward to get a closer look. Rogue was thankful it was just the two of them in the entire grubby warehouse, tucked neatly away at a small kitchenette table in the far back corner near a beat up fridge. He'd assured her, swearing up and down before they began their little 'game' that his teammates would not be back until very late, or even at all.
It was her own fault really, not being able to stay away from the man sitting across from her. She knew it was bad news to be getting personal with one of Magneto's Acolytes, especially one who had tried to blow her up. But the Louisiana boy was just so God damned charming. After trying to despise him and treat him like the enemy, she'd just given up, giving in to her increasing attraction to the tall, lithe mutant. He'd tried fighting the attraction himself, but like moths to a flame, they were drawn to each other with unspoken longing.
At first, it was kind of pathetic. When fighting with their respective teams they would always single each other out and fight one another, sparring in some desperate attempt to get close to the other. It was bound to be a severely fucked up relationship when they used fighting as a form of flirting and eventually as a means for the occasional grope. It was only a natural course of events when they started sneaking out to see each other, pushing the boundaries of what exactly they were or what it was they were even doing.
They had never once gotten physical, mostly because of her reluctance. Even that was mostly because of her inability to control her mutation, and not because of some moral code she held. The sexual tension between them sparked like high voltage electricity and inevitably, they had started the game of strip poker this evening. A perfect night for a slow, tormenting, lust filled tease on both parts.
Her body ached for him in new found emotions she shouldn't be having for the enemy. As much as she'd give anything to give in to the lust that so sweetly called to her, she still was incredibly embarrassed about removing her bra. It had been a risk she had taken, but she had not expected to actually have to fulfill it just yet.
It was killing him, this dancing on the line between right and wrong. She was embarrassed and humiliated that she had lost, yet she was still going to remove her bra for him. Very sportsman like of her, keeping up with the rules. Gambit swallowed hard, trying to chase away the nervous lump in his throat. Good taste and manners ate him alive, but breasts. He would get to see her breasts. After week upon tantalizing week of envisioning the lovely, supple mounds beneath all her layered sweaters, he would finally get to see the real deals. He hadn't even cheated on his hand and had won the right to see her breasts fair and square. He was meant to see them, the fates had allowed it. Still…
"Perhaps there is something else you could give me instead of the bra." He heard himself say tentatively and relief washed over her pretty, flushed face. He liked her, liked her a lot, and it was just general bad form to make her do something she so obviously wasn't ready to do.
She picked up a card and leaned forward, towards him and across the table. She held the card up to his lips and pressed hers against the flimsy, cardboard playing card.
Keeping the card between them, Gambit leaned in closer, almost climbing onto the table towards her. He felt blindly around the surface for her gloves, finding them quickly and handing them back to her urgently before his own gloved hands found their way to her waist. He tugged her abruptly up onto the table. She followed with little resistance and within seconds, a dainty gloved hand found its way to the back of his head, jerking his face closer to hers while her other hand rested on his chest.
His eyes were closed as if they were kissing and not just holding a card between their lips. Gambit had followed her lead in closing his eyes, making it easier to imagine what it was like to kiss her for this long. His covered hands moved from her waist, trailing hungrily over her body as she pressed herself up against him. Both were now kneeling on the table amongst scattered playing cards and chips.
He heard her sigh as her hands weaved through his hair tugging him even closer still, their bodies so close now that it almost hurt to have her hip bones digging into his.
It was the strangest sensation, to move like he was making out, only to have his lips remain perfectly still while the rest of his body went through the tantalizing motions. One hand was now gripping her butt tightly, while the other held her firmly against him from the waist. The harder he held her, the deeper she began to grind her hips against him.
To say he was turned on was the understatement of the year. He had not expected to be on top of his kitchen table with a playing card on his lips, and a barely dressed goddess rolling her hips seductively against his increasingly aroused lower anatomy.
It was too much for him, and any minute now, he was going to lose control and most likely embarrass himself. However, he was afraid that if he pulled away now the moment would be gone and things would be awkward after spiraling so quickly out of control. So he continued to hold her tightly against him, shivering in bliss on his knees atop a kitchen table.
Rogue didn't want to stop. Gambit's hands moved across her body with abandon. She didn't even care now that all she had on was her underwear and some gloves…while he was still clothed. He could see her breasts now, for all she cared. Nothing compared to being pressed up against him, feeling his hands moving up and down her skin and feeling his body against hers.
It was a highly inappropriate way for her to be behaving, crawling up on a man's table and groping every inch of him while sliding her hips wantonly up against the hard bulge in his pants. It was far from lady like. She should have just given him the bra, although it was likely even that would have led to this. In the back of her mind, she knew that this was no way for a future X-man to act. She forced herself to pull away from him, letting the card fall between them. He was still the enemy and someday they would have to fight again.
"I think that more than covers the bra," she said breathlessly.
"Yeah," he answered, his face now flushing red. "Sorry, I got a little carried away there."
"Yeah," she answered sheepishly. "So did I."
She gave him a nervous smile and climbed off of the table and began to retrieve her clothes.
"It's getting late—" she was saying quietly.
He was nodding stupidly in agreement.
"They will be wondering where you are," he answered slowly, watching the painful show of her putting her clothes back on. He liked it far better when she was taking them off.
He wanted to ask when he would see her again. Not sure if he would. They had crossed a boundary tonight. Things had gotten serious, and that created problems seeing as they played for opposite teams. They shouldn't be allowed to feel this way about one another.
"Well…" she said with a flustered smile as he walked her to the door. "Good night… Remy."
"Good night, Rogue," he answered back, knowing he'd see her again simply because she called him by his first name.
He watched her put her helmet on, climb onto her bike, and quickly speed away into the night before going back inside to clean up their mess.
Playing cards and poker chips scattered the floor and table. He began collecting the fallen pieces. A single playing card on the center of the table caught his attention over all the rest. The imprint of her mauve lipstick shining against the matte playing card got him hot all over again. The vivid memory of what had just transpired between them began replaying itself in his mind as he held the card in his hand.
Fuck.
If he was going to get hard every time he saw a playing card, it was not going to go over well the next time he fought and had to pull out one of his fifty-two, little explosives.
End