Slight Return
Part Four
*** warning for some slight sexual content, don't get your hopes up though, lol ***
Remy LeBeau awoke a little past eleven am that next again day; he supposed he must have needed the sleep as a little past eight had been when he'd finally dropped off watching a DVD while lying in bed and he'd awakened in the thick warm darkness of his room that Saturday morning.
He rolled his neck, yawned and gazed around the dimly lit room; the television was still on, the blue screen glaring at him. He picked up his new phone (a cheap one he'd bought that was prepay until such times as he could afford to replace his iPhone) and checked the time.
Jesus, I must have needed sleep, he mused as he brushed his hair out of his eyes and stretched his nude body out over the covers, thankful that the door was locked.
It had taken a lot of discussions – usually one sided – to finally have the Professor agree to the fact that he needed a door that locked. The Professor had put in place a policy about locked doors ever since Rogue's first suicide attempt. It hadn't been mid-June that finally the Professor had caved about the subject, and only because Amara – who had been sent up to find Remy since his communicator battery had run out of charge due to his negligence to charge the thing (an often occurrence) – had walked in on him playing with himself (another pointless attempt at getting an erection). After that moment, only students over eighteen who were trustworthy had been given the right to have their doors locked, and the keys had to be kept on their persons at all times and not be passed around.
He could still picture Amara's poor little face as she'd stood there blankly staring at him with his hand on himself. He'd have laughed if he wasn't so frustrated that he had nothing to show for all his tugging except for another flaccid disappointment. There'd been a time in his life where a pretty sixteen year old in his room would have helped with that problem. Not the case any more.
So now thanks to that incident, he had the freedom to sleep naked again, no more getting tangled up, no more pyjama pants riding up his calves, no more boxer short wedgies disturbing his slumber. It was much more comfortable. His curfew however, still stood. Nine pm was the latest he was allowed to come strolling home at. When he'd asked why he had to have a curfew at his age, he'd been informed his driving in on his bike any later would disturb the students...he doubted that, they made far more noise than his bike did.
Regardless of having showered the night before he was sweaty from the thick heat in the room and so, he had to shower once again, only this time, it would be more than just a quick blast with icy cold water, he'd take the time to actually wash his hair and scrub himself down properly.
He turned the pressure down a little from it's previous setting, and set the water to cool rather than it's coldest and he showered comfortably, taking his time without worry of using up the hot water (of which there always seemed to be a limited supply in this place) or preventing others from using the bathroom. That was another perk of having the attic room, he had time to just be on his own without wondering when he'd be rushed out so the next person could get in, especially in the mornings or after hectic Danger Room sessions, when Showers were like gold dust and everyone wanted one.
As was usual for his shower time, he attempted to arouse himself to the usual 'spank bank' material, but nothing worked. He supposed it was ironic that the one time he hadn't wanted any kind of arousal, he'd blasted it back to hell with cold water, and now that he wanted it, he couldn't get even remotely excited regardless of how wild his fantasies could get.
For a while, he stood in the bathroom nude, shaving, brushing his teeth and wincing every time his member touched the cold edge of the sink. He'd have put on a towel if it weren't for the fact that the discomfort of the cold porcelain against his skin reminded him at least the thing still had some feeling in it. That was something to be positive about.
After dressing into a pair of shorts (deciding to go topless with intent to head out to the garden for some sunbathing later), he headed down to the kitchen to see what might be left from the usual breakfast devastation that went on. Sometimes on Saturdays and Sundays Ororo would set aside things and put them in the microwave for him to be sure that he did get something to eat when he awoke or eventually made it to breakfast. This morning, the microwave was empty, today she'd forgotten to do so and he despaired. He hadn't eaten anything for dinner yesterday and now his stomach was growling.
He supposed an apple would do until lunch, which would most likely be in an hour or so. He stood for a moment, looking at the apple, wondering what he'd do once he finished it. He had intended to go out and lie in the sun, but it seemed like a rather lame way to spend an entire Saturday.
Maybe I should go see that old lady...Rose...it's a Saturday, busy visitin' day probably for all the other old people there. But she got no one...seems a shame to let her be there on her own...nurses probably don't even got much time to talk to her with bein' understaffed. Yeah, maybe I'll do that...
"Is that all you're gonna eat?"
Remy jumped, he hadn't heard anyone in the room and he glanced around at the sound of Rogue's voice; he finally spotted her, she was sitting on the kitchen counter, a bottle of Mountain Dew in her hands.
"Jesus, why you creepin' around?" he asked irritably.
"Ah wasn't, Ah've been sittin' here the whole time..."
"Oh," he cleared his throat, "should have said."
"What were you lookin' in the microwave for?" she asked curiously.
"Stormy sometimes puts a plate of food in there for me if I don't make it down in time for breakfast," Remy replied. "She forgot today..."
"You want me to make you somethin'?" she pushed herself from the counter.
"No...that's okay," he shook his head, "I got an apple...and I know you're afraid of breakin' the stove."
"Actually, Ah'm over that," Rogue admitted, she grabbed the frying pan down from the hook it hung upon, "bacon?"
Remy watched her, it all just seemed too good to be true. He just couldn't trust it, nothing was this easy. She was a picture of health, a picture of perfect mental health as far as he could see. But four or five months wasn't going to fix suicidal tendencies, severe depression and anxiety. It was only a matter of time before she revealed her true condition.
"Remy?"
"Hmm?" he blinked himself out of his reverie.
"You want bacon?"
"Uhm...sure..." he shrugged.
Rogue retrieved the bacon from the fridge and the box of eggs; Remy stood by the dining table, watching her carefully, looking for signs of weakness, trying to determine where he stood. It felt awkward. He wasn't sure what to say to her any more.
She turned on the gas and stood there waiting for the pan to heat up, she drizzled in some oil, "so..." Rogue went looking for a knife to open the bacon packet, "how do you like it?"
He'd been too distracted watching her backside, she was wearing a pair of leggings which was an unfortunate thing for him as it clung to the curve of each cheek and revealed to him that she most definitely was wearing a thong. He grimaced, there was that stirring again.
Stop it, stop it, stop it. Can't have, never will, forget it, he told himself.
"Remy?"
"Huh?"
"How do you like it," she repeated a little louder this time.
Hard...on the table...with a lot of screaming, no wait, what was it she was asking again? Jesus christ, I need to stop this...I haven't had thoughts like these in months...
"Sorry," he shook his head a little at himself, "what was the question...?"
"Bacon, Remy...how do you like your bacon?"
Jesus, she must think I'm a freak, she's asked me the same question three times now...and she's talkin' about bacon, and I'm thinking about fucking. I knew this was gonna be difficult, but I didn't think it'd be this difficult.
"Well?" Rogue asked, growing impatient.
"I...half expected you to already know," he confessed curiously. "Was waitin' to see if you'd just figure it out."
"Ah didn't retain everythin', Remy," she confessed, "so...you better let me know now, Ah don't want you thinkin' Ah'm a shitty cook 'cause Ah overdid it or undercooked it. So what'll it be? You want it crispy or almost raw?"
Yeah...raw...raw sex...hard against the table...who gets to be top? Does it matter...for fucks sake, I need another cold shower, he groaned at himself inwardly. He took a seat at the table and pushed his chair way under so that his stomach was pressed against the edge, he hoped it would be enough to hide the raging excitement pushing his shorts up like a tent pole. "Crispy," he responded, he took his eyes away from her backside as she went to cooking him breakfast.
Jesus, my cheeks are burning. Am I blushing? He wondered, when Rogue wasn't looking he pressed the backs of his fingers to his face, they were blazing hot. Nah, probably just the heat. God this is insane...why now? I can't make it work any other time, she comes back and suddenly my dick starts actin' like a fuckin' homin' missile lookin' for the nearest pussy to hit...
He tried to focus on keeping himself calm, struggled to focus on things that were a turn off but nothing was working. After what seemed like an eternity, Rogue came to the table, putting down a plate in front of him, plenty of bacon and a couple of perfectly fried eggs. He wondered if it was only the sexual frustration that caused him to think those eggs looked like a pair of breasts. If I push those pieces of bacon a little closer together, it'd kind of look like a pu-
"You've joined the team fully then?"
Remy was thankful for the question, for the distraction from his raging thoughts, "Yeah," he stuck his fork in the yolk of each egg quickly to make it look less like he thought it had initially.
"How are you findin' it out in the field?"
"Tirin'," he confessed, "You ever notice that nearly every time there's a mission, it always comes up late at night?"
Rogue gave a vague laugh, but didn't disagree with the observation.
"I'm fine on missions, truly..." he admitted, "But afterwards, Christ, it's like...I feel...wrecked. My bones ache, my muscles ache..."
"After-mission hangover," Rogue agreed.
Remy turned to look at her quickly. Had she just read his mind? How could she possibly know he called it that? A strange odd sense of being violated hit him, he stared at her worriedly.
She missed this look entirely, she had picked up one of the newspapers from the pile on the table and had started going through it. She was doing far better at being casual and easy-going today than he felt he himself was.
"That's...that's what I've been callin' it," he confessed after a moment, "How did you-?"
"Ah used to call it that too," Rogue shrugged, "it always kind of feels that way for the first few months, but it gets easier. Every now and then there's a tough one and you feel like you've been run over by a giant bowling ball, but for the most part, it'll get easier, you'll barely notice it any more."
Remy quietly ate his breakfast and Rogue sat reading the paper, it felt eerily mundane and oddly perverted as he sat trying to devour the food ignoring what was going on in his pants. He was almost sure the troublesome tallywacker was pointing right at her.
Stop that, he thought quietly to the offending member. That is off limits. Why couldn't you get that worked up over the pretty redhead nurse with the big knockers, huh? Why do I even bother trying to talk to you, you don't have any fucking ears...just a fucking eye and apparently a mind of your fucking own...
Rogue raised her eyes to him, "so, how's work at the motel?" she asked after a time.
"Still the same, shit smeared toilets and piss stained tiles. But I do less hours now. Five til midday. And I don't gotta do weekends either. Boss got his cousin's kid in for that."
"Your boss a fair guy?"
"Yeah. He's a good guy. His name kind of lets him down."
"His name?"
"Ron Vesticle."
Rogue snorted, "you're makin' that up."
"Wish I was. You know how hard it was keepin' a straight face when I applied for that job, he's standin' there wearin' a badge with 'Vesticle' starin' at me in all upper case letters."
She smiled, a genuine smile, eyes lighting up. It wasn't until this moment he had realised that she wasn't wearing makeup, her face looked pinker from yesterday's sun exposure, her lips the colour of a sweetheart rose, her lashes were stained dark with yesterday's mascara but she looked fresh, young and strangely pretty now that he thought about it.
Without even thinking about, he'd opened his mouth before he could stop himself. "You look good, Rogue..."
Her mouth dropped a little, as if she hadn't expected him to say this. He wasn't sure if she was just feigning this to be polite or if she really was surprised. He tried to read her, it was hard. She wore so many masks now, one might slip but there was another beneath. "Ah...do?" she asked, she gave a strange disbelieving laugh.
"You look...healthy..." he gestured to her cheeks.
"That's the sunburn," her cheeks turned slightly pinker.
"It's everythin'..." he confessed, "your eyes, your hair...the way you've filled out...you look so much better than you did..."
Her eyes dropped nervously to the table, finally a sign of her old self. Yes, this was the Rogue he knew.
"I...I gotta admit...the way you looked before...back months ago...it weren't nice to look at...was...a little worryin'."
She got up slowly, taking his empty plate to the sink to rinse it off. He watched her, so impressed without easily she handled things now, nothing breaking or bending, she didn't seem to have to concentrate any more. She'd adapted so very well, he felt strangely proud of how far she'd come. He wished he could say that to her but he thought it would sound condescending.
Remy turned his gaze from her backside again, wincing.
"You were worried?" she asked, he heard her struggle to sound casual and curious, but there was hope in there. He didn't want her to be hopeful.
"You know I was...it's hard seein' a friend deteriorate."
He made sure to put emphasis on the word friend, he hoped she'd understand, hope she'd be fine with that. That was all this was going to be. It's fine to be sexually turned on by a female friend, I mean, it's happened before...you used to get it all the time when you went to high school, you had tons of friends who were girls who got you that way. It's not exactly abnormal. It's perfectly acceptable. Totally normal reaction.
It didn't feel normal though, it was intense, physical yearning, this wasn't just a random spontaneous reaction, it was powerful lust. What the hell was it about Rogue that turned it on like that? Even before she'd recovered, landing on top of her seemed to have kick-started whatever the issue was. Either way he still couldn't pinpoint it.
Lingering memories, something in the back of my mind maybe, somewhere in the back of my head old Remy wants to get her against this table and hump her like a dog in heat...
His body flushed hot at the thought of it, stomach tight in knots, groin throbbing demandingly. His breath was rising and falling quickly, he was struggling to try and maintain any type of control over this. His body was defiant and his mind was racing, his self-control and common sense were being being pushed aside by the ideas and desires that weren't ready to let go just yet.
Stop it, he pleaded of his body and mind. Just stop it...it's just the heat, that's all, just intense summer heat, it makes things like this worse. You can't think of her like this, you need to stop...for the love of god, STOP IT, REMY, STOP IT.
It was too late...he couldn't stop his mind from wandering to that one particular memory again, the one he watched like a spectator in his own porno flick. It was the way that she had both hands on the bottle of her Mountain Dew to unscrew the cap, the way she put it to her mouth and tipped her head back to take a long drink, unknowingly driving him wild. It reminded him too much of those things he'd been struggling to forget for months.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head, it was building far too fast, he couldn't fight it; without his permission the feeling was rising, getting to the point of no return. No no no no oh god...
It overwhelmed him quickly, his body tightened, spasmed and strained as he tried to hold back from groaning out at the spontaneous climax. As he gripped the table hard, he felt the hot mess of his seed fill his underwearmuch to his absolute mortification; his eyes dropped back to where she sat and she was looking at him worriedly. Jesus, did she know he'd just came without so much as even touching himself? He had to control his breathing, tried to keep his heart still.
"Are you...alright?" Rogue asked, wide eyed at his behaviour.
He glanced towards the window right towards the sun, and it was perhaps just convenient that doing that always caused him to sneeze, just convenient that he remembered this right on cue. He rubbed his nose and blinked, "sorry...had to sneeze...bit photosensitive."
"Oh," Rogue seemed unconvinced, but at least she didn't seem to fully comprehend what had happened. He thought that odd for a girl who had probably witnessed him climax more than once.
Gotta get up fast, Remy, before it starts soakin' in and comin' through the shorts. For the love of god, don't let her see this.
"Shit," he muttered, "forgot to grab my book...was gonna go lie outside and read."
"Oh...what are you reading?" Rogue asked.
Fuck, she wants to know the name of a book?! Jesus, why did I say book? Why didn't I say somethin' stupid like an Mp3 player or...or a fucking magazine? Why did I say a fucking book?!
"Just this new rule book thing for work, handbook or whatever you call it, boring shit, stuff I need to know, about what temperatures to wash what at, you know, the usual crap."
"Ohh..." she nodded.
"Thanks for breakfast," he forced a smile, and turned around in the chair quickly so that he didn't have to stand facing her and risk showing her what might have already begun to sink through the cotton of his shorts. As he got up he felt his legs were jelly like, as if all his energy had been spent in those ten seconds of complete ecstasy.
"No problem," Rogue went back to reading her paper, there was a slight tension in her voice, he wasn't sure what to read from it and right now he didn't have time to dwell on that. For the third time in twenty four hours, he was going to have to shower again.
"Ah think Remy might be on drugs," Rogue announced as she dropped onto the edge of her bed, glancing over at Kitty who was sitting on her own bed typing on her laptop.
Kitty raised he eyes from the screen, "Huh?"
"He's being weird, he's not normal...Ah'm tellin' you, he's on drugs," Rogue fretted, biting her lip, staring at her friend, looking for a response. Remy's behaviour in the kitchen had been staggeringly peculiar. She'd never seen him so nervous, so up tight, his shaking there at the table had been troubling, the way he'd rolled his eyes into the back of his head as if he were losing consciousness for just a second or two, the strange almost euphoric look on his handsome features.
It had to be drugs...he'd had to have taken something.
She'd sat there for almost half an hour in the kitchen trying to figure out what was going on, after weighing up that he may be ill, or just under stress, she'd decided that it couldn't be anything but drugs. That was when she'd decided she would share her concerns with Kitty.
Kitty would understand, Kitty knew first hand. If anyone would have advice or ideas on what to do now about this, it would be her.
"What are you talkin' about?" Kitty blinked.
"He's not right, Kitty..."
"He's fine, he's not been acting weird at all..."
"He is, Ah'm tellin' you..."
"Look, I'm not trying to be a bitch here," Kitty frowned, "But you haven't been here for months. I've seen him every day since the day you left and he's been fine all that time."
"He's acting weird, trust me."
"What kind of weird? What happened?"
"Okay...so...we're sittin' at the table talking...Ah make him breakfast, you know, gesture of good will and all that, tryin' to make up for how much Ah fucked up...he eats his breakfast, and then suddenly he gets this really weird look on his face...he's shakin' and all sort of...I don't know, flustered, and then he's..." Rogue tried to explain.
"He's what?"
"Ah don't know...he had this weird tight look on his face like was...you know that look people get when they're about to pass out? It was like that."
Kitty sighed; she didn't seem to believe this. She gave a nervous laugh, she wasn't comfortable with the subject matter; Rogue understood why. The mention of drugs might be still too close to the bone for her. "Even if he was on drugs, where would he get them?"
"Ah don't know; he always finds contacts wherever he goes, you know that..." Rogue reminded, "and he works now, he could afford to buy them..."
"He doesn't make that much money," Kitty kept her voice low, "He's minimum wage, he can barely keep five bucks in his wallet most months.
"Maybe that's where all his money is going..." Rogue suggested.
Kitty laughed uneasily, "Rogue, do you even know what pills cost these days?"
"No..." Rogue replied. It hadn't crossed her mind about availability or the affordability, only that Remy was acting strange and it could be drugs. After his binges just before she'd left, she'd begun to wonder if one day he could be tempted to turn to something harder to soothe the damage she had done to him. It had crossed her mind more than once when she'd spent all that time on Muir Island.
"My guy used to charge me a dollar per milligram for oxy," Kitty said in a whisper, "Stronger the pill, the more you pay. Some pills can cost you sixty, some can cost you a hundred, it just depends. I blew through about three thousand dollars in savings that my mom and dad had been giving me on oxy alone. One of the trays Remy took cost me nearly four hundred bucks."
Rogue gaped. She hadn't thought the cost would be that extreme. "Four hundred bucks?! Are you fucking insane?!" she almost yelled.
Kitty frowned, "sssh! You want Logan to hear?!" she hissed.
"Sorry..." Rogue lowered her voice, "But four hundred? Three thousand? That's...that's crazy..."
"I was desperate. I was struggling to cope..." Kitty reminded, "anyway that money was supposed to be for a car – but I got hooked and that was it. Three thousand bucks down my throat..." Kitty sighed.
"What did you tell your parents about the money? Did they find out it was gone?"
"Yeah, when they checked the bank account and saw nearly three grand had been withdrawn...I had to keep making stuff up. I told them I had to buy a new laptop and a phone...the numbers didn't add up so I made something about a second hand Vespa...they trust me, they didn't ask questions. God, if they ever found out..." Kitty trailed off, looking quite upset. "They'd be so disappointed at having a pill-popper for a daughter..."
"You're clean now though, right?"
"Yeah," Kitty nodded, "Haven't taken anything since the day Remy found me in the kitchen in the mess I was in...and I don't ever intend to go down that road again. Even if you guys hadn't helped me detox...I would have had to stop eventually..." she admitted sadly, "money was running low...and I wasn't about to resort to stealing or begging for money to just make myself feel better."
Rogue wondered how honest Kitty was about that. If the girl could lie about being on pills, could she lie about what she'd do to get them? Rogue supposed she shouldn't be so judgemental about it. How could she after she'd heard Kitty tell Remy that the sleeping issue and the need for the Oxycontin hadn't even come until after Rogue's second suicide attempt. She couldn't judge something she had a hand in, she still had some forgiving herself for that to do as well. She wondered now if perhaps along with writing a letter to Remy, perhaps she owed Kitty a letter too?
"Anyway...If anyone knows what it's like to be on pills...it's me, okay?" Kitty shrugged, breaking Rogue out of her dark thoughts, "Remy doesn't seem to be...far as I can tell."
"What if it's not pills?" Rogue asked, "what if he was on something else?"
Wouldn't be the first time, Rogue reminded herself. He smoked weed once with Pietro out in the grounds behind the warehouse once...if he'd do that, who knows what else he'd do?
Kitty's face suddenly became dark and guilty, she looked away, her expression deep as she thought about this. Something had started to bother her about the suggestion of it.
"What?"
"Doesn't matter," Kitty shrugged it off.
"What if it's cocaine?" Rogue suggested.
"What makes you think that?"
"He sneezed..."
"He probably has an allergy or somethin'," Kitty rolled her eyes.
"He said he was photosensitive...Ah mean, Ah guess he can be, Ah've seen him sneeze like that a few times...and vaguely Ah know it somewhere from his memories but...Ah don't think that was a sneeze."
"What'd you want me to do? You want me to try and suss him out, see if he is still using?"
"Wait, what do you mean is still using?"
"Huh?"
"You said still..."
"Oh, did I?"
"Did...he take something before that I don't know about?" Rogue asked suspiciously.
Kitty gave a massive sigh, "Okay, fine. The night you told him about what happened...well...I went to see him that night at Logan's apartment, and he was getting high on weed. But that's like...it."
"Oh," said Rogue. She wasn't sure why she wasn't remotely surprised. He'd been in something of a downward spiral that last few days before she'd left. Still, she was positive whatever had happened at the table, it wasn't to do with marijuana.
"Are you mad?"
"No," Rogue shook her head, "look, I can deal with him smoking a little weed, he's done it before...but...this wasn't weed. Trust me, I know him, he's not like that on weed."
"So...you really want me to just chase this up and check?"
Jesus, now Ah have her snoopin' on him, used to be Ah had him snoopin' on her, Rogue thought, realising the irony of it.
"Would you?" Rogue asked hopefully, "it's just...Ah'm worried...he seems to be doin' so well and Ah don't want him to fuck things up for himself if he is usin'. Ah don't want to chase it up myself or...you know...try to pressure him...he's actin' weird enough whenever Ah come near him as it is."
"Look, I'll keep an eye out for any weirdness and if I see anything myself, then I'll look and see if I can find anything. I can't promise anything, but I'll do my best and try to figure out if anything is going on."
Rogue smiled weakly, "thanks."
Hope Ah'm wrong. Four months is a long time and a lot can change in four months. It only took Kitty a few months to get hooked onto Oxycontin. Ah couldn't stand that to happen to him. Doesn't matter if he broke my heart or not, Ah can't let him fuck his life up just because of things Ah said and did.
"Ah think Ah'm gonna go watch TV in the rec room," Rogue decided, "too hot out there for me...besides, that's where Remy said he was gonna be out there and Ah think it's best if Ah keep my distance for the rest of the day."
"Yeah, that'd probably be for the best...give each other space," Kitty agreed. "That's probably all that's wrong with him, Rogue," she closed her laptop and moved it to her cabinet, she stood up and stretched, "he just needs his space to deal with you being back. Give it time, I'm sure things will be...you know...relatively back to normal."
"Ah hope so."
End of Part Four
Thanks to all for the reviews, I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story and the developments so far (even though it's early days). I'm sure there'll be some interesting thoughts about this particular development with Remy at the breakfast table, lol. Poor guy. I can't imagine trying to explain that one off, lmao.
Hope you're all going to have a fantastic weekend!
