Title: Butterfly Kisses

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Etc.

Summary: sometimes the next best thing is what you really wanted all along

This takes place whenever. No specific time line. No specific back story, but things are inferred throughout.

"Rogue," Scott said curtly as he entered the garage.

"Hey, Mr. Summers."

Scott shook his head, a tight grin twisting his mouth upwards. "Rogue, you graduated five years ago, I think we can finally let up on this whole 'Mr. Summers' thing now, don't you?"

Rogue fiddled with the scarf around her neck, trying to keep the wind from blowing it up into her face. "I'm sorry Mr. S...Scott. I'm still trying to get used to it. Where ya headed?"

"Nowhere in particular," he said over his shoulder, strapping a canvas bag onto the back of his motorcycle and taking the helmet from the seat. "I just thought I'd head out on the bike, take in the scenery before it gets too cold to ride."

"Oh. Finally got it running the way you want it to? You know before L...I mean..."

Scott smiled awkwardly, shifting the helmet between his large hands. "It's alright Rogue, you can say his name, it's been two years."

"I just...I didn't think. I'm sorry." Bowing her head, her face was hidden behind soft ivory locks.

Scott set the helmet back down and walked over to her. A breath away in only two long strides. He cupped her chin, his gloves protecting him from her poison skin, but she flinched anyway.

"Careful!"

"I've got gloves on," he said, wiggling his leather-clad fingers in front of her.

"O-okay."

"You know you don't have to pretend with me right?"

"I know."

"Do you?" he asked firmly, gripping her shoulder with his other hand. His fingers were strong and yet there was a gentleness in his touch.

"I know you loved her, that's all. I know it must have been hard to lose something so...precious."

"I'm not the only one that lost something, Marie," he said softly and his voice dropped so low she barely heard him.

Rogue's head jerked up and her gaze was sorrowful. It wouldn't take much for the tears in her eyes to fall if he kept this line of conversation up. "Don't, please Scott..."

"Come 'er." Scott pulled her into his arms, careful of her skin. He knew she was sensitive about it and he hated that she always had to hold herself back so much. She couldn't just feel and touch like normal people. The same way, he could never look into anyone's eyes without killing them.

He whispered soft, nonsense words into her ear, his mouth so close she could feel his heated breath and it sent a shiver down her spine. No one had held her so close in a long time. For years the only person brave enough to lay a hand on her had been Logan and after he ran off with Jean there was no one to hug her like this until she broke down in Scott's arms one night after drinking herself into a drunken stupor. Since then, he made an effort to touch her. A kiss on the back of her head. A touch of his hand on the small of her back. A brush of fingers across the dinner table as she passed the rolls. Anything to make her feel normal. And it was working. She was finally coming out of the cacoon she'd spun after Logan had destroyed her.

She was maturing into a beautiful woman and everyday she became more and more beautiful. He was noticing. Try as he might to ignore these new feelings that were popping up, he couldn't.

"Hey," he said, gently pushing her away so he could get a better look at her tear-stained face.

Women weren't supposed to look good when they cried, Storm had told him that. Jean was a horrible crier, her eyes got puffy and her nose would run, but not Rogue. Rogue's skin glowed, her eyes got huge and her lips swelled and damn him, if he didn't want to kiss every single teardrop away. And maybe if her skin wasn't such a risk, he would have kissed her until she had no tears left.

But as it was, he just studied her and when a fat droplet fell off her cheek and slid down her collarbone, he followed it with his gloved finger.

She seemed shocked at first, but then returned his smile. "I must be a mess," she said softly, barely above a whisper. Over the years her southern accent had faded some, but at times like this she seemed to drawl out her words a little more. She puffed out her cheeks with a deep breath and stepped back.

"You look fine," he assured her, "beautiful even."

She laughed. A really good, gut laugh and then smacked him on the arm, playfully.

"You're a charmer Scott. A terrible liar, but a charmer nonetheless." She smoothed her gloves over her face and wiped off the last remnants of her salty tears.

"Hey, why don't you come with me? I've got enough gas to get us anywhere and enough food for two."

"Are you sure? I mean, I know you like to be alone to think and stuff."

The smile on his face faltered some. "I don't like to be alone. No one does," he told her firmly and there was a desperation behind his words that she never expected from the fearless leader.

"Well, no. I didn't mean... You know, a trip on the bike sounds like a good idea. It'll give me a chance to clear my head and not feel like such a freak, at least for a little while. You're one of the few people who isn't afraid of me."

He grabbed her arm a little rougher than he intended. "You are not a freak." He looked pained as the words left his mouth. "Anyone that thinks that is someone you don't need. Logan didn't tell you that, did he?"

"God no! He just said that I was too young and that when I was older I'd understand."

"Condescending asshole!"

"Hey, that's what I said!" she laughed.

"You know I don't mind touching you, don't you? You know I don't just do it for you, right?"

"Yeah, sure," she said cooly.

"Rogue."

"Yeah?"

"I'm serious."

Rogue grew a slight bit uncomfortable. She didn't need to hear anymore lies about what people thought of touching her. She knew Scott did it out of pity. There was no other explanation. "I know."

Scott huffed, drawing her closer. His lips hovered so close to hers she could feel the heat of them and it was almost as if they were touching. The warmth, the heady scent of mint filled her senses and she tried to squirm away. He held her tighter and lifted a hand to her cheek, smoothing out his fingers and letting them run back through her hair. "I like touching you," he said finally after a full minute just standing there like that with her in her arms. It came out huskier than he intended and he felt her shiver. "In fact, sometimes I wish I could touch you more."

He released her then, stepping over to the bike and bringing a long leg over the machine to hug it between his thighs. "Coming?" He teased, very aware of the double entendre.

Rogue took a minute to catch her breath, then she licked her lips. She took the helmet from his outstretched hand and settled in behind him. Wrapping her arms around his torso suddenly aware of how toned and refined his muscles were.

---

After hours of driving they actually came across a park where Scott set up a picnic. To Rogue, it was one of the sweetest things she'd remembered anyone ever doing for her. Not that she'd had a lot of sweet things done to her throughout her life.

The last picnic she'd been to was a fourth of July picnic a month before she discovered she was a mutant and could kill with the briefest skin to skin contact. It was the last time she remembered being happy.

They had eaten in relative silence and it wasn't uncomfortable as she thought it would be. In fact, it was nice. She didn't feel pressured to keep a conversation up. Scott never made her feel pressured.

Finally after filling herself with strawberries, Rogue rolled over on her stomach. Propping her chin in her gloved hands she glanced over to where Scott was laying. His hands were tucked behind his head and because of the visor he never took off, she couldn't tell whether he had drifted off for an afternoon nap or if he was just resting like her.

"Scott?" she prompted.

"Hmm..."

"What is it about me? Besides the touching thing, is there like a red flag somewhere on me that sends the wrong kind of man my way?"

He sat up quickly and he looked angry.

"There's nothing wrong with you," he said firmly, "I've never met anyone more giving or understanding than you. Don't you know that you're the only one that makes me feel normal? Like I'm not some kind of lesser man because no one can see me."

Rogue sat up then too. "I see you, Scott."

"I know you do." His voice sounded strange when he spoke, clouded. Almost scratchy like he was on the verge of tears. She wished she could see his eyes just once.

"Jean used to tell me, 'No one trusts you when they can't see your eyes.' Maybe she was right. She never really trusted me, maybe that's why she left with Logan."

Rogue crawled over to him on her knees and took his hand. She rubbed her fingers over his palm and wished she could lay a kiss on the delicate skin between his thumb and finger, the part of his hand that wasn't quite as rough as the rest.

"Don't do this to yourself Scott. It's not your fault. She was the one that betrayed you, it wasn't the other way around. I don't need to look into your eyes to know that you'd never lie to me, even when it's hard to tell the truth. That's the kind of man you are. If she couldn't see that...well then, that's just sad and I feel sorry for her."

"Thank you," he said, squeezing her hand.

The minutes passed and they sat like that for a long time before Rogue cleared her throat. A spark of an idea was in her big doe eyes and they sparkled with mischief because of it. "Scott, would you do me a favour?"

"Sure, I guess."

He was sceptical, she could tell.

"Let me see your eyes." She held her breath.

"No, Rogue. It's too dangerous."

In a move that surprised him enough for her to grip his glasses, she straddled him. "Well then you better close your eyes," she said, even as she lifted the red shades from the bridge of his nose.

Setting down the glasses, she felt like she'd been punched. Looking him over, she realized how young he actually was, not that much older than her and handsome. So very handsome it took her breath away. His eyelashes were enviable. So thick and beautiful they looked painted on by some type of whimsical fairytale creatures.

She touched him then. Starting at his eyebrows and moving over the delicate fold of his eyelids. Tracing over every line and indent. Letting her thumb dip into a small scar she would have never known was there, one that no one would have seen but maybe Jean and now her. That humbled her. That he was letting her do this to him, letting her see part of him that no one would ever know. Even through her silky gloves she could feel the heat of his face and then warm wetness.

"Scott?" She said shakily.

"I'm sorry." He tried to push her away, but she wouldn't budge and he really didn't have the strength to hurt her after she'd been so gentle with him. "It's been a long time since someone..."

"Shh...I know."

His chin tilted up and it was as if he knew exactly where to look even though his eyes remained closed. "Remember what I told you before about liking touching you?

"Yeah?"

"Well, I guess I didn't tell you the whole truth."

"The whole truth?"

"Yeah. I don't just like touching you and I don't just wish I could touch you more." He took a deep breath. "I wish I could touch you everywhere."

"Scott." She gasped when his hands came to her hips and rolled her over so he was pinning her to the ground.

"I want to kiss you." His breath feathered over her cheek and she felt like her chest was caving in, not from his weight, but from the intensity of his words. She never thought anyone would be saying that to her.

"You can't. It's not safe." Even as she wanted it, she couldn't let it happen. There were already enough people battling in her head and she never wanted to hurt Scott. Not ever.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice raspy, his fingers skimming past her shoulder to her side and fanning lightly out, just grazing the underside of her breast.

"I...yes."

Scott moved over her. She groaned slightly when their hips made contact and she felt the evidence of his desire straining against her. "Don't be scared," he whispered.

She could feel his face coming closer. Could hear the hitch in his breath and sense the strain in his forearms as he raised above her. Even without sight, he seemed to know exactly where she was, exactly how close he could get without touching her. She thought his might use the scarf around her neck to kiss her as Logan had in the past, but he wasn't going to and she tensed slightly not understanding.

"Close your eyes." His voice was the same hoarse whisper and she wondered how he knew her eyes had been open.

A second after she did, she felt a slight tickle against her cheek and then her nose, forehead, and so on until he had covered her entire face. The feeling was too quick to be lips and too soft as well. The sensation was good though, very good. It made all her nerve endings alert, like she was coming alive for the first time in years and her heart beat quickened. Then it dawned on her as he made the rounds again, slower this time. He was using those magnificently long and thick eyelashes against her skin.

"Butterfly kisses," she murmured drowsily.

His hand skimmed her side, while the other kept him braced above her. He let out a ragged breath. "I wish it could be more."

"It's more than you know," she whispered, pulling him against her, revelling in the heavy weight pressing into her.

He rested his head in the crook of her shoulder, protected from her neck by the silky scarf.

It felt right for both of them. Natural, like it'd never been any other way.

When you can't have the one you love there is always a search in your heart for the next best thing. Only sometimes it turns out that the next best thing is greater than anything you've ever experienced. That's what they turned out to be...even if they hadn't seen it coming.

End