Disclaimer- Pajama pants, a poster, t-shirts, comic books, movies, video games, and notebooks are the only things I have that are even close to owning X-men.
A Cajun and a Rogue walk into a bar...
She just wanted to get away, if only for a few hours, and this seedy little bar seemed like the perfect escape. Here she could pretend she didn't have worries, that her boyfriend hadn't broken up with her, that she wasn't going crazy. She could make-believe that she was just another girl at the bar.
Rogue was anything but just another girl.
She told herself that hiding away for a couple of hours in this dump was normal, and that lots of people did it all the time.
Yeah. The only people that came here were alcoholics and prostitutes, along with those who were just... desperate.
Maybe she was desperate, maybe she just needed to drown her sorrows with some bad drinks. That didn't make her a bad person, did it? It just made her normal.
Too bad she is anything and everything but normal.
She ordered a drink.
"Keep them coming," she told the bartender.
The sting the alcohol made on her throat made her doubts go to the back of her mind.
But not before those doubts whispered, "You'll regret it."
He was tired, angry, and just wanted a drink.
The bar at the corner of the street seemed like the ideal place to escape to, with its dingy appearance, smoky smell, and less-than-honorable customers. It was the perfect place for a shot of bourbon, or whiskey, or a nice glass of beer, and as he stepped inside he told himself he only wanted one drink and then he'd be on his way.
That's what he told himself.
One of the things he just happened to be notoriously talented at, was lying.
Remy waltzed up to the bar and picked a random stool, he was so desperate for a drink that he paid no mind to his neighbors. It wasn't until he ordered a beer and took a large gulp did he noticed her.
She noticed him.
How could you not, with his long trench coat, sunglasses, and tall frame?
He was hot.
No Rogue, bad Rogue. Maybe you shouldn't drink anymore.
So she took another sip, and allowed herself to observe this handsome stranger.
His hair was windswept and fell in messy pieces over his peculiar sunglasses, and from her seat she could smell the aroma of tobacco and spice that seemed to radiate from him. She couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty for staring, but he didn't appear to see her, and if he did he was ignoring her. Rogue watched as he ordered a drink, took a swallow, and then swiveled his head to look directly at her.
He wondered how he missed her walking in, with those prominent white streaks in her hair and bright eyes, which just happened to be turned in his direction. Her slender fingers were wrapped around a glass of her own, a glass that she soon brought up to her lips to take a sip, and what nice lips she had…
Gulp.
"Bonjour belle."
She seemed startled that he was talking to her, and he briefly wondered how such a beautiful woman didn't have all the men in this bar drooling at the mere sight of her. He was certainly trying very hard not to, but he was Remy LeBeau, and Remy LeBeau didn't drool.
"Hi," she said.
Hi, was that all she could think of?
He flashed a smile at her, and she felt her breath catch, and her insides swirl.
Nothing good could possibly come from meeting a guy at a place like this.
Sip.
"M'name is Remy," he said, offering a partially gloved hand, and after a moment she grasped it with her own.
"Mah name's Rogue," she said.
"Enchante' Rogue," he replied as he kissed her knuckles, his voice like fine chocolate; rich and smooth.
No. No way would she let this fancy-talking Cajun make her go weak in the knees.
Sip.
Talking couldn't hurt, could it?
"Nice to meet ya Remy."
The fact that she was a Southerner made her all-the-more appealing to him.
He studied her with interest; she definitely wasn't dressed like most of the floozies here. Her green crewneck top was modest, and her jeans (although tight, but Remy wasn't complaining) covered everything. What was she doing all alone in such an unrespectable establishment?
"What's a belle femme like you doing in a place like this?"
He was hoping this was one of those occasions where he could just get straight to answers.
Her luminescent green eyes darted down before looking back up.
"Bad day," she replied somberly.
Her answer made him only want to ask more questions, such as: who had hurt her, and what was their address?
Instead, he nodded," Moi too."
Saying that she had a bad day was an understatement, more like bad week, bad month, bad year.
She braced herself for another question, the words "it's none of your business" ready on the tip of her tongue, but to her surprise he didn't ask any. All he said was ,"Moi too."
He didn't pry into her life, so she did the same in return.
"Ya want to get out of here?"
Her suggestion confused her own ears, as she had never been one to wander off with strangers.
Oh, wait...
Suddenly she remembered hitchhiking in Canada, and that hadn't turned out so horrible, had it?
Sip.
Good idea, Rogue.
"Ya want to get out of here?"
Yes, he thought. Yes, I want to get out of here, tear your clothes off and have my wicked, creative way with you.
But he didn't say that. Remy LeBeau liked to think of himself as a gentleman, a charmer.
"My bike's outside."
A bike.
She loved bikes, and she loved men with bikes even more.
Sip.
A little fun would be good for her…
A little naked fun with a certain Cajun man would be even better for her.
She didn't want to think about the after; about what would happen in the morning, all she wanted to think about was now and how absolutely exhilarated she felt.
"Let's go."
"Let's go."
At those words he sat a bill on the bar for their drinks, grabbed her hand, and led the way outside. They were both young, and he wasn't going to let her be another missed opportunity.
When they slipped outside he did something he normally never did with his one-night stands, he kissed her; full and passionately on the lips.
Rogue smiled as he led her outside into the crisp night, thinking that during this moment in time she would have followed him anywhere.
Then, he turned around and slammed his lips against hers. The kiss was deep, a flurry of tongues and teeth that made her toes curl.
When he pulled away they were both breathless and grinning like fools.
He turned and began to walk again, dragging her along after him.
The kiss filled Remy with an excitement reminiscent of a teenager sneaking out to be with his crush. There was something about her that made him giddy, and when he pulled away he couldn't help the wave of desire that flooded through him. The gentle heave of her chest and swollen lips was almost too much for him.
Remy led her over to his bike and they both climbed on, and when her arms wrapped around his waist he decided couldn't get to his apartment quickly enough.
Rogue kept her arms wrapped tightly around him for the entire ride, and didn't let go until they reached an apartment complex. After getting off of his bike she noticed his grin was back, and couldn't help but return it. He took her hand again and led her into the building, pressing the elevator button.
After a couple seconds of waiting she suggested they take the stairs.
The elevator was taking far too long.
So they clamored up the stairs, laughing and smiling the entire way, and when they finally reached his apartment the attraction became even stronger. As soon as he unlocked the door they both stepped into his apartment, and their lips met.
He couldn't get her inside fast enough.
No, said the perverted part of his mind, he couldn't get inside her fast enough.
So it was no surprise that as soon as they entered his apartment he pressed her back against the door, slamming it shut.
Her lips were addictive, he was sure of it.
Need burned within him and he deepened the kiss, swirling his tongue around hers.
He needed her.
She found herself wrapping her arms around his neck, doing whatever she could to eliminate any space between them. A fire lit in the pit of her stomach, and all she wanted was to be under him, letting the lust take care of itself.
They began to move, lips never separating, and soon she felt her body toppling over unto a mattress, the momentum of the action bringing Remy down with her. His weight was comforting, and made the fire burning in her abdomen blaze with a new level of intensity.
Rogue grabbed fistfuls of his jacket and slipped it off of him, tossing it into the darkness.
Closer, she needed to be closer.
She needed him.
A/N: It's revised! I found a lot of errors, and I hope I fixed most of them (if not all). The lemon has now been made into a second chapter to separate the really mature stuff from the rest of the story, so that readers won't become uncomfortable. Oh! And in case it wasn't clear, Rogue doesn't have her powers because the idea is that this takes place after The Last Stand and she took the cure. I hope everyone enjoys this new edition!