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You Want It- Part 4
It had been two weeks and a day now Rogue thought absentmindedly getting dressed. Last night had turned it up a little for her. Watching Remy bring that cigarette up to his lips . . . Never had something so reprehensible look so hot.
Silently thanking the world that it was Saturday morning, and not a school day, she tried to work things out in her mind. Lust happened to people all the time, right? It was completely normal, right? Yeah, like Rogue was ever normal. She wasn't sure why Gambit had her panties all [figuratively] twisted up. His appearance was one thing, she, as well as every other female at the institute, knew he was a walking sex god. She knew his body was built for certain things, certain unimaginable pleasurable things. She shivered; the thought of every muscle in his body expanding and contracting with his almost inhuman flexibility made her feel physically warm again. Attraction was something she could live with, but lust? Lust had to be taken care of, somehow; at least so she could start thinking straight again. At least so she wouldn't keep having these smutty, dirty, and downright kinky dreams about him. Something had to break; she needed some kind of relief.
She shook her head; it had to be his 'image'. That whole 'devil may care' attitude coupled with the idea of lying with a previous enemy? It was downright lethal. That had to be what made her want him so bad. She had never met a guy like him before, so sexy and utterly unrepentant for all the clear sins he'd committed. It's like he acted as if he didn't care, and in her mind, she was sure she could make him care about something. So what if she'd never tried to attract someone before? There's always a first time for everything, she supposed.
It didn't matter that she couldn't be touched or that she hadn't ever been touched that way before. Trying to be completely rational and diplomatic about it, she knew Remy wouldn't be out of her head until she did something about it. Logically, she had to put the moves on him, for her sanity's sake, of course.
Putting on her trademark purple lipstick and other goth like make up, she finished her look. She was wearing blue jeans and a baby blue long sleeve shirt, with a wide scoop neck, Kitty had gotten her a bit ago. She knew her friend would be overjoyed when she saw Rogue wearing it.
There were a few things Rogue didn't know well and men were one on them. She glanced at the magazine on her bed and frowned, trying to come up with a plan. Rogue had been secretly reading Kitty's Cosmo magazines trying to get some ideas on the best way to go about this. Unfortunately, nothing covered poison skin, but she did find some helpful material about trying to hook up with someone who seemed 'unhookupable' (apparently Cosmo was also the reason behind Kitty's poor vocabulary.)
According to her 'research', she had one of two options. The first being, she could just pull him aside a jump him. Although Rogue wouldn't admit it, she may have considered option one for just a second before she realized how absolutely absurd it was. Luckily, Cosmo gave her another option specifically for the "guy you see on a regular basis, such as a friendly coworker." Rogue shrugged, it may not have mentioned the 'smoldering sex god you live with who you've been dreaming about doing things you've never done before with', but close enough. Her first step was supposedly easy: make him notice her.
There were a few things that Rogue wasn't good at, men were one of them. There a few things Rogue's girly roommate weren't good at such as talking less, shopping less, getting home by curfew, and French. Rogue eyed the forgotten textbook on Kitty's desk, as Kitty flippantly decided to forgo her French homework for the day (and occasionally many other days).
Rogue smiled secretly, she had a plan. Picking up the textbook, she headed out into the hall. Step one: get noticed.
Remy LeBeau had had a bad day. His breath hissed out between as he stepped into a way too hot shower. Yes, it had been a bad day.
Living at the X Mansion hadn't been what Remy expected at all, but, as he thought about it, it wasn't actually so bad. A few snide glares aside (re: Scott) joining a team, which he had previously stood against, had not been that bad. In fact, the transition had been surprisingly easy. He may have to go exceptionally out of his way to avoid Tabitha's over-the-top come ons, but he could deal with that. He knew the last thing he needed to do would be to encourage the fantasies of such a young girl (even if she had a nice rack for her age). Gambit smirked – it didn't matter their ages though, all girls/women/the entire female species probably fantasized about him anyway, he figured.
He hadn't even approached Xavier that long ago; four weeks maybe? And it just took him two weeks to move in? You had to give the Professor credit, he was more than giving: Gambit had contacted the professor expressing his large desire to leave New Orleans, to leave home, to leave the guild (although there was no mention of the guild to the professor). His contracts with Magneto had long since expired. He was sick of the bad guy, sick of the frustration (also sick of the self loathing, but no mention of that to Charles, either), and not knowing what to do with himself. Karma met something, and it was about time he got on the right side of it. Flat out, he told the professor simply that he'd be passing through: not for his family, not for Magneto, but on his own accord. He was looking for a place to stay (read: stability) for a few weeks, a couple moths at best. He had no desire to make trouble, but wasn't sure what he was meant to be doing. Charles smiled simply saying that the Institute would be the perfect place for him to visit. Although there was no asking for anything, Gambit went as far as to provide the professor with some files he had acquired from his time as an Acolyte. He needed to get away for a while, and didn't want to give Charles any reason not to trust him.
The water was starting to loose its heat as Remy stepped out of the shower, towel drying his perfect body. Yes, things hadn't been so bad. As much as he doubted it, he kind of liked it at the Mansion. He liked the routine and having meals with a group of others every day. He liked working on his bike in a garage while smoking with another man (even if the other man slightly unnerved him – oh well, he wouldn't admit that), he liked spending hours alone in the danger room when the students were out for the day, he like working on his all ready perfect physique and honing his all ready perfect skills. No, he wasn't an x-man, but he could get used to living like this. He especially liked not having to answer to the Guild or listen to Magneto; he liked not being forced into situations he was morally apposed to just to uphold a contract or his family's honor. Oh, and although he was keeping it a secret from Logan, he loved the attention from the young women at the mansion. Not that he would every try anything no, but he would lying if he said he didn't enjoy the blushes they got when he flirted with them. And moreover (and more secretive than that), he may have even imagined hooking up with one or two of them.
No worries, though. That would never happen. He got plenty of action outside the mansion, no need to bring his 'needs' into his room (aside from his hands, but that was a different story; a man's gotta do what he's gotta do).
Today had been a bad day though, hence the reason for the scolding shower. He had been avoiding her calls for a little while, but couldn't dodge them anymore. As soon as he picked up, Belladonna didn't even wait for him to say hello before she started yelling at him. Never mind he told her he needed more time, never mind he told her he didn't love her, never mind he told he told he may not want to ever go back to the Guild (ever), she still demanded he set a wedding date. She vehemently reminded him that this had nothing to do with them, that it was for the Guilds. Yeah, that a good way to bring the man back who won't marry you because he's not in love; just remind him that feelings don't matter at all and that this is strictly a meaning of convince. Yeah, that'll work.
He decided to spend some time away from home, at the mansion, to decide if he ever wanted to go back. He told Belladonna there was a good chance he wasn't coming back. He told her to move on regardless. Either way, she had to keep calling him and hounding him. He groaned, it was driving him crazy and had put a dark cloud over his whole day. He'd known he wanted out before, but he didn't know how badly until now. If the thought of being with Belle upset him that much, he had a good idea that his mind wouldn't change in a few weeks when he left New York.
Gambit pulled on a pair of unnecessarily tight jeans, not bothering with his usual boxer briefs, when he heard a slight knock at his door.
Turning around from his dresser surprised, white wife beater in his hands, he looked to his door. "Oui? il est ouvert." (Yes? It's open.)
Rogue's eyebrow furrowed. She frowned having no idea what she had just heard, but then almost smiling, remembered that was why she was here. She knocked again.
Remy rolled his eyes, this was just obnoxious. "Said it's open!"
Rogue turned pushed the door open slightly, and looked around. His nightstand was empty except for a pack of cigarettes and a pack of cards, his desk had the same two items on it, and his open closet showed only his trench coat. She was reminding herself to keep a straight face, she wanted to have him notice her, not make it obvious that she wanted to be noticed, or that she even wanted to be here. Her plan failed as she looked around his room and her eyes landed on Gambit. He was shirtless (shirt in hand, mind you) and his hair was wet and unkempt, sticking haphazardly to his face. In the last two weeks, Rogue had become accustomed to the neat little ponytail holder keeping his hair slicked back and smooth. Seeing his shaggy hair framing his face, Rogue's mouth dropped open slightly. It was possibly the sexist thing she'd ever seen.
Remy smirked, enjoying her reaction. Sure, women reacted this way to him all the time, but as far as this particular fille went, he was usually at the end of scowls or frowns. Even last night, when he tried to be nice to her in the garage, she'd still scowled at him. It's nice to know she reacted like other women when she looked at him. He watched her eyes rake over his naked chest. He noticed her eyes focus on his chest, in between looking him up and down.
Rogue managed to close her embarrassingly open month as she looked over his chest. The cuts in his muscles were clearly defined, and his 8 pack abs would easily make the most innocent of innocent drool over him (case in point: what was happening now). She was a little surprised to see a thick, jagged, long scar stretching across his right pectoral. After she noticed the first (and largest, but sometimes not by much) scar, she began to notice a few others splashed across his body. It was hard to think around his perfectly toned physique, but it was easy to tell that things had not always been easy for him.
Gambit noticed her ogling him, and naturally not minding (of course), and figured being the giving man he was, would let her have another few seconds. Naturally, as she was too busy to notice, he stared at her breasts through he shirt for a few seconds. This wasn't anything out of the ordinary for him; it was pretty much standard practice before talking to a woman. Besides, they pretty much always liked him looking.
Clearing his throat and pulling his white beater over he his, Remy grinned at Rogue as she started to blush uncontrollably (although she was now scowling… again). "Allo petite," Those words rolled of his tongue in the same sensual way they always did when he flirted, "Looks like y' came 'ere f' dis Cajun? O' is dere somthin' else y' want?"
Rogue froze. He noticed her all right. It was either she backed out now (noticed, but possibly humiliated) or she went through with step one. Considering the way she was pressing her thighs together just from looking at him told her she had to pull through. After seeing him shirtless, she could remind herself it was worth it. Granted she wasn't exactly sure what to say, and that made her angry – she was used to always being prepared.
She nodded, "Well, Ah, um, Ah had a favor ta ask ya." That's right Rogue, confidence. Tripping over her words would get her noticed, but not the way she wanted to.
Gambit raised his eyebrows suggestively and turned on the charm, "Ask away, petit."
Rogue blushed, still slightly flustered. Apparently, reminding herself that she could knock him unconscious in 2 seconds flat gave her a little bit more confidence. She held up the textbook and looked at him though bashful eyelashes (Kitty once told her that guys love shy girls. Rogue wasn't sure how to charm anyone, but she'd used the little ideas she had). "It's French."
Gambit nodded, "Oui. I've heard 'f it."
"Well, Ah," she tired to look embarrassed, Kitty said guys like that too (although Rogue thought that was a stupid trait to be attracted to), "Ah'm really not doin' well at all. Ah just don't get it."
Gambit smiled at the girl, thinking she looked a little cute when she wasn't frowning, "Oui, petite! 'f course dis Cajun can 'help! 'es de perfect man f' de job!" Gambit hadn't been asked for help by anyone yet, even though it happened to the other senior residents of the mansion constantly; He was a little excited; he was fitting in. "What ar' ya' learning now, petite?" Sitting down on the bed and patting the seat next to him, he invited Rogue to sit.
Timidly Rogue walked over and sat near him, setting the book in between. It's not like she'd never been in a boy's room before; she'd sat on Bobby's bed probably a hundred times, but this was different.
Always knowing to research a mission before had, Rogue opened to the perfect page toward the beginning of the book. "Ah'm just starting, "She lied, she planned on never taking French, "So we're doin' common phrases. My teacher says Ah'm havin' a hard time pronocin' 'em."
Remy smiled warmly, ignoring his playboy persona that was begging him to make a comment on how he'd "show her how to do it correct orally." This was the first time one of the others –the younger ones- was asking him for help. All he had to do was answer her questions with the occasional glance down her top and he'd be fine.
He looked down at the book that had a list of common phrases with pictures to go along with them. He thought he'd start with an easy one. "Bonjour." He said to her simply.
Looking up at him from under her long lashes again, she repeated him, her southern twang very evident, "Bonjour."
"Bon," Remy smiled, he was off to a good start. He pointed to the photo of two people shaking hands that said 'what is you name 'in both English and French.
Rogue tried it in French and butchered the phrase completely by trying to pronounce it phonetically, "Com meant vow us appel eez vow us?"
Remy shook his head, her teacher was right. He stated it correctly and she watched his lips form the words, "Comment vous appelez-vous?"
She bit her lip; French was hot.
Remy cocked an eyebrow at the young girl, "Well?"
"Oh!" She seemed flustered again, "Mon nom est Rogue."
Gambit smiled, at least she pronounced her own name correctly.
She looked back at him and tried to repeat Remy's exact phrasings (minus the sex appeal), "Comment vous appelez-vous?"
Remy smiled again, much better. "Bon! Mon nom est Remy LeBeau."
"Remy?"
He looked up from the book, "Oui?"
She looked down a little embarrassed (for real this time), "Oh, um, nothin' . . . Ah just didn't know yer name until now. Everybodeh has been callin' ya Gambit."
He shrugged half heartedly, "Well, petite, nobody thought t' ask so merci."
She blushed again, "Ah like yer name. Suits ya." More like it suited her to be screaming it while writhing under him. Easy Rogue, she told herself, we're only in step one.
"Merci, petite. And dis Canju don' tink you're so bad. Jus' need a lil mo' practice, dat's all."
Not so bad? Not so bad at what? Oh right: French. "Merci, Remy. Do ya umm, do ya think ya could help me again some time?"
Remy nodded as she got up to leave his room, "Of course, Rogue. I 'elp anytime time."
As Rogue walked down the hallway back to her room, she kept a scow on her face for anyone that saw her. On the inside though, she was giddy with delight. She replayed the image of a shirtless Remy over and over in her head until she couldn't take it anymore.
Yes, going out of her comfort zone would definitely be worth it. Getting Remy would definitely be worth it.
Stage one: complete.
Thanks again for reading! Let me know what you thought :). It's hard to make Rogue by Rogue without her being all standoffish and it's hard making Remy be Remy without him throwing himself at everyone.
Review are encouraged. . .like a lot :).