Just a short little fluff story. Let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: As always, not my characters.
Rogue stood in the darkness, her breath coming out in short pants. Eagerness coursed through her as she watched the sleeping form in front of her. This was easily the greatest moment of her life, and there was only one person she wanted to share it with.
She reached out, hesitant to wake him. He was sleeping so peacefully for a change.
Eventually, the wait became too overwhelming. She shook his shoulder gently before stepping back, distancing herself from the bed. Rogue cursed herself for being so fearful, but no one could blame her. Her last attempt at rousing him had resulted in three sharp claws moving swiftly through her body.
The memory made her shudder.
She shook him once more, whispered his name, and he finally stirred.
Logan propped himself up on an elbow, using his other hand to rub his face.
"Logan?" she spoke his name again, softly.
He could hear the waiver in her voice; smell the tension and excitement radiating from her skin. It woke him instantly.
"What's wrong, kid?"
"I can control it," she whispered so quietly Logan thought he might have imagined it.
But he didn't. Rogue's mouth curved into a timid smile as she held out a hand to him.
A bare hand.
Logan quirked an eyebrow, looking at her doubtfully. He accepted her outstretched hand after a moment's hesitation. His jaw clenched, preparing for the initial tug of her powers as she drained the life out of him.
But it never came. Logan gripped her hand tighter, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand, marvelling at its softness.
"Amazing…" he murmured, still watching their entwined fingers.
Rogue moved swiftly to sit on the bed beside him, offering Logan her other hand as well.
"How did – how long have you…?" he could barely form a sentence. Logan looked up at Rogue's smiling face.
"I've been seeing Dr. McCoy for the last few months," Rogue admitted, "he's helped me a lot. Gave me some lab mice to practice with." She made a face, recalling some unpleasant memories of her training.
Logan gave a low grunt, encouraging her to continue.
"I couldn't sleep tonight, so I was practicing. Trying to hold it back, and then it happened. Just like a light switch flicking off in my head. Then I knew I had full control over my power." Her eyes glistened in the darkness, waiting for his reaction.
"So can you flick it back on?" came his gruff reply.
Rogue's shoulders slumped forward. A delicate frown formed on her lips before she spoke, "Well, yes. Do you want me to?" The hurt was evident in her voice.
"No!" Logan's response came quickly, "I'm just askin'. How long does it last when you turn it off?"
Rogue shrugged, "I'm not sure yet. As long as I want it to, I suppose."
"Huh," Logan leaned back against the headboard of the bed, mulling this over.
A hint of annoyance played across Rogue's face.
" 'Huh'? that's all you've got to say? Logan – I can touch people! I can touch you," she added softly, pressing her hands against his bare chest for emphasis.
"I know. That's why this is killing me. Marie…" Logan sighed, unsure of how to continue. He looked into her gentle, doe eyes, now glassy with unshed tears.
"Dammit," he growled, pulling her into a hug. Her warm breath tickled his skin as she nestled against him.
Rogue allowed her fingers to trail lightly over his torso, finally able to touch what she had admired for so long.
"I'm proud of you, kid," his voice was muffled as he let his face press against her hair, "now you need to go to bed." He said the words, but made no move to release her.
The Wolverine in him was screaming this is your chance! But reason just wouldn't allow Logan to act.
Marie was so young and innocent; surely she didn't want him. What could he offer her anyway? Support? Sure, if you count cage fighting as a decent way to support a family. Stability? Hell – half his life was still a mystery to him. Who knows when he'd have to take off again?
A frustrated growl formed deep in Logan's throat. Forcing it back down, he gazed at Rogue. She had fallen asleep, still curled up against him.
He was tempted to just leave her and fall back asleep himself by listening to her gentle breathing. Feeling the reassuring warmth of her body next to his. It was amazing how perfectly her soft curves fit against the rough angles of his body.
Pushing these thoughts aside, Logan jostled Rogue awake. Her sleep-filled eyes slowly met his and she grinned sheepishly.
"Sorry. Guess I'm kinda tired after all."
"Guess so," he returned her grin, brushing the stray hairs from her face.
Rogue's face became serious as she studied Logan, her gaze flickering from his hair to his lips, and finally settling on his eyes.
Logan fought an inner battle every time she looked at him like that. Maybe it was the way the moonlight lit her face, or how her rosy lips were parted just slightly. Whatever the reason, Logan couldn't hold back any longer.
He placed a hand on her cheek and leaned in, kissing her with months – who was he kidding? It had been years – of pent-up passion.
He didn't know what to expect from Rogue in return. All Logan could do was hope that his kiss conveyed just how much she meant to him.
Evidently, it did.
Rogue gave a soft moan as she leaned into Logan eagerly. His hands roamed her body, finally free to explore her bare skin. He felt her arms slip around his neck as their kiss deepened.
They finally parted; just slight enough so they could each catch their breath, foreheads still touching.
"I'm sorry," Logan finally managed. He released her quickly, shame making it impossible for him to look at her face.
"Are you really?" Rogue's tone caused him to glance up. Her voice held a hint of some unknown emotion, but Logan could smell exactly what it was: hope, trust, and an unnerving fear of rejection.
Abandoning his last shred of control, Logan grinned wolfishly and pulled her back into his arms.
"No."
