Thanks to all my lovely reviewers! Hope yah like dis chapter!! –lascivious grin-
-Demon Flame, Rogue181, Catra, thesupernugget (LOL), GoldFox (touch is a primal need and Rogue is so starved for it...), Peanutbutter1, Katsu Kitsune (LOL!!), Danielle Britton (blush at compliments!), marajade963, ElizabethMarieBennett (ooh, wait and see!), Captain Annie (thanks for the hook compliment - I love my little intro!), Freak87 (thank you so much and I know what you mean, practice should be more written about, so many lovely possibilities :grin:), PsYcHoThErApY17, Ayame 125 (the accents are important to character and I've actually seen them thicker), X-Storm, CheshireCat, gambit-rogue, BloodChildOfHate, ROMY Lover, musagirl15, Deathgirl997, Remy'sRose, ishandahalf, nuriiko, SouthernLoner, Chica De Los Ojos Café.
And to untouchablegoth - thank you so much for the long review and offers of help. I may yet take you up on that. Other characters will show up to a greater degree coming up.
Okay, I was thinking I should recommend the who's who's of the Romy world, since I kinda started to responding to one person in a previous chapter.
Just about anything by: ishandahalf, Eileen Blazer, Seven Sunningdale (incredible fics if long), Prexistence & dreamer's dawn (some dark), Randirogue, Some Scribbles and Solitare E.
Also, good Movie Romy fics are kinda hard to find so here are some amazing ones:
Broken Road by Anamarie Chambers (unbelievable)
SHAMELESS by BethyBathory (a riot)
Gambling by BelleDayNight (another riot but with greater scope)
I'm Not Myself by AJ10 (awesome and soooo underappreciated)
What Might Have Been (I know it's a fic…but I just couldn't find it again, annoying considering I re-read it like two weeks ago, grrr…)
The Flirt and the Untouchable by Caliente (and the sequel!)
And on with the chapter! Whew, these chapters are getting longer!
It Takes Two...to Practice
by Silver Nitte iz
…You don't…
With the next few practices, they started to slip into something tentatively routine.
During the day: sharp retorts, merciless flirting on his part, complete shut-downs on hers.
If he flustered her more now, no one remarked on it. If he said something more heated than it deserved, no one seemed to pick up on it. And so, back and forth they went.
During the night, they came together in a much different way. Not that the flirting and sharp barbed comments weren't still present, but context was everything.
"Yah ain't that good looking," just didn't come out the same way when Rogue had to say it breathily from a position way too close to straddling him during one of their 'cuddle' times.
After the second practice, they'd compromised. One part of the practice would be intentional touching, like in her other practices, but the other would be spontaneous, a mish-mash of limbs, teasing touches, and almost-ridiculously flirtatious banter. He liked to surprise her, push her, challenge her to try, tolerate, touch what she never had before. Cajoling her and coaxing her every step, she was slowly getting used to, well him, if not actual touching.
Still, Rogue was doing more tactile exploration than she had done, well, ever. Gambit was quick to remark on it, especially on the fact she was getting to touch a lot more than he was. So far, he'd managed to talk her down to a tank top, but no further. He'd ventured a few fingers under it during their 'cuddle' times, but she was adamant on not stripping further. Not yet. And now matter how much he pouted, there was a big difference between being bare-chested as a guy and being bare-chested as a girl.
It was also harder to relax when it was him touching her. Even when forewarned, it was unnerving, sending tendrils of sensation that felt too warm, too close, too invasive. After so much time covered up, she was practically over-sensitive to the slightest bare touch. It made her stiffen defensively, provoking her mutation rather than calming it.
Remy tisked softly, angled at her side to practically loom over her. He ran a finger down her wide tank strap and leaned closer.
"Y' gonna need ta relax if ah'm gonna get anywhere wit' you, chérie," his voice was a husky rumble, layered with enough insinuation and allure to stir a warmth deep down. Unfortunately, that merely triggered her to tense further. She flushed and looked away from him.
"Ah'm tryin' Gambit."
"No y' ain't." It took her a second to realize he'd directly contradicted her. She turned back, eyes flashing green fury.
"Yes Ah am!" she snapped. "Ah'm tryin' as hard as ah can and you have the gaul ta-"
He ran a gloved finger right above her cleavage and her mouth shut with an almost audible snap.
"Chérie, what y' be doin' righ' now ain't tryin' ta relax. It be tryin' as hard as hell ta resist meh."
Her mouth opened and closed. She swallowed. "Resist you?" she echoed weakly.
"De feelin's y' get from mah touch," he murmured, now fiddling with her other tank top strap. "Yah gotta let yourself go ta it."
"You know ah can't do that!" she tried to snap, but it came out without enough bite. "Ah gotta stay calm and focused, not-"
"Excited?" She hated that he could say it so matter-of-factly, when just the thought made her flush. "Dis ain't calm chere." He drummed his fingers against taunt muscles, displaying his point. "Dis is tense." He sighed. He leaned forward, but the tousling of his bangs over his forehead made the movement seem more boyish than seductive. He matched the image with a softening of his tone. "Yah supposed t' enjoy dis Rogue. It ain't supposed ta be work – relaxin' 's supposed ta be lettin' go, not tryin'. Lettin' go ta meh wun't be so bad, non?"
Not be so bad, hah.
It didn't matter if he struck a little boy pose.
Everything was strategy.
Letting go to the Prince of Thieves, who'd probably had stolen more hearts (or at least slept with them) then there were kids in her grade. It was a monumentally bad idea. Especially when she didn't know just how much Mr. Sticky Fingers would lift from her with her guard down.
But she'd put herself in this position. She had asked for his help and he was right. She had to give in to him. Physically, if nowhere else.
Admitting it however…
Abruptly, his position changed, to cover her more fully and he ran his hand down the line of her side, just edging her breast. She swallowed at the sudden frisson of sensation. In the moment of distraction, he drew even nearer, searing her with his eyes. "An' if y' ain't enjoyin' dis, den Remy be doin' somet'ing wrong."
Damn him. She pushed him away. "Well, bein' all sauve is jus' makin' me more nervous Gambit." It was a digression, but she seized the argument for all it was worth. Besides, it was true.
He let the push move him back to his original spot, but no further. Instead, he cocked an eyebrow. "'s dat so?" he murmured lazily, letting his eyes trail over her. "Y' know a better way of seducin' someone?" The humor in his voice could not thwart the knot that formed in her stomach at the suggestion. Seducing her? Was that what he was doing? It didn't sound exactly right. She was the one who'd started this whole thing; shouldn't she be the one seducing him? She shook the strange thought away.
"Probably could do better than you, swamp rat," she said, jabbing him in the chest. It was a challenge in jest, anything to leave their previous topic of conversation. His reaction was plain amusement, but he played along, leaning back on the head board while she took the superior high position.
It was after she got into the kneeling position that she realized just how idiotic the challenge was. Seduce him? She didn't know how to seduce anyone, let alone a player like Gambit! The most she'd ever learned was a sultry laugh remark in a close proximity. Crap. It didn't help that she'd basically already performed that on him to try to get him to agree to the practice, but it hadn't even worked. Even watching others, she'd only ever seen things that she either couldn't technically do or simply wouldn't do. Besides, most of the maneuvers were about being suave anyway.
D- it.
He looked at her expectantly, that d-ed mocking grin just waiting to spread across his face. Think Rogue!
"Yah know, yah kinda pretty." It was the first thing that came out of her mouth and she winced mentally at the inanity. Wait, no, she could make it work. Not too direct, sexy, but not overwhelming. She lidded her eyes and looked at him slyly, resisting the urge to lick her lips nervously. Actually, maybe that would be a good idea…
Gambit, oblivious to her internal disarray, raised an eyebrow. "Gambit be guessin' he de girl in dis scenario?"
She raised one right back, though a little surprised by the question. "What?" she baited him. "Ya want ta be?" She had to smirk at that.
"Don' t'ink I got de righ' parts chérie," he practically purred, splaying his hands oh-so-innocently by his hips. "dough yau're more dan welcome ta check." She snorted, more to cover her blush than any other reason.
"If yah sa well-assured then why ask?" she shot back. His eyes narrowed slightly, though the easy grin stayed in place.
"Well chere, Gambit be many t'ings: handsome, charmin', sexy-"
She rolled her eyes and grumbled loud enough for him to hear: "Obviously not humble or self aware."
He ignored the insult, instead favoring her with a dead-on gaze, the grin disappearing. "Remy ain't pretty."
She had to bite her lip. He was offended. The laughter burbled in the back of her throat and a frown touched the edges of his lips. The boyish indignation was so, so cute, she couldn't help keep teasing. "Yeah yah are." She reached over to brush his bangs. "What with the messy hair, the cheekbones, and the eyes…" She trailed off. From her proximity, she could make out the exact distinctions between the black pupil, scarlet iris, and black cornea. The scarlet was rich and heady, glowing with life that undulated in intensity even as she watched.
He pulled back slightly, still playing the put out role. "Red and black is viril," he corrected. "Ne pretty." She didn't move, reading his face: the tightness around the mouth, the sideways angling of the eyes, the slight retreat, slip to French, the sudden slight increase of tension in his shoulders. It was almost – discomfort? His eyes…
She laid a hand on his shoulder. "They are," she said softly. He turned them full on her and she was entranced. "At least ah think so."
The unease, if that was even what it had been, was gone in a flash. Snatching her wrist, he laid a firm kiss on her open palm. "T'ink Gambit undaestimated dose skills, chérie," he murmured, his voice low and smoky. "'Cuz I t'ink ah've jus' been seduced." She flushed as he turned the charm back on, scoffing to cover its success.
"Well anthang is betta than 'ooh- ah t'ink you so chaud an' ah be wantin' ta touch you all ova'!" She said it breathily and high, though mercilessly mocking his accent and basically the way he'd just recovered himself.
He laughed however. "Still t'ink y' bedside manner needs work dough, chérie."
She sniffed, but let him arrange her against his chest, covered by a long T-shirt. While thus exposed, she'd required him to cover up. Less for her to worry about, though he'd teased her about his 'well-formed body' being too distracting. "Well 'scuse meh for not learnin' bed etiquette yah've obviously memorized." It was an acidic comment and she hoped that it didn't actually sound as bitter and pointed as it seemed in her head. She didn't dare look at him, instead focusing on playing with his fingers, conveniently gloved.
He hmmed, nuzzling her hair when she didn't react. "If dare are rules," he finally spoke. "dey simple. Don' insul', don' push ta hard, and know basically wha' de other expects," he ticked them off.
She laughed lightly. "Seems like yah break all the rules."
He blew on her hair in what she guessed was annoyance. "Chérie, yah de one not keepin' the rules." Frustration? Well, yeah she was the one with the insults, but he was the one who pushed. But unclear motives…
She dropped his hand, half-swiveling to peer at him sideways. "Ain't rules made to be broken?" she asked flippantly. "Thought that'd be yaur motto." He traced the line of her bare arm and she swallowed thickly.
"Non, 's never get caught," he lidded his eyes in response, before splaying his hands against her hips, still aligned against him. "-and if y' do, make it worth their while." He did that thing with his voice where it went low and rumbled through her and she swallowed again at the depth of innuendo.
Still, she sneered. "Sell yahself pretty cheap then." His eyes went down to her lips, burning them with the intensity. The urge to flight was strong, but she resisted it. Playing chicken with Gambit was hazardous, but unfortunately necessary. Necessary if she wanted to keep any measure of control during this practice.
"Only f' yau," he drawled. The scoff was reflexive, but he still tisked. "Still so hostile, chere." And before she knew it, he'd rolled them so he was on top. Ugh, she had to get used to his d- unpredictability. But there they were again, with him intently slithering his slimy fingers all over her. And making her as hot as it made her tense. He paused, before gently coaxing her eyes to meet his with his soft tone. "What's dah worst that could happen?" he murmured. The red glow pinned her in place and she hated the fact there was nowhere to run. Why had she agreed to this again? "Lettin' go?"
He just wouldn't give up.
But the answer…
She could end up letting go of something it was damn hard to get back. She clenched her jaw. "Ah drain you dry." She wasn't sure if it was a threat or fear, but he waved away the seriousness with the slightest shake of his head.
"And de best?" They were too close and she paused. A distance only precise in metric existed and he was pushing even closer and then speaking, "De best is dat I kiss you."
She caught her breath shakily. "Ah-ah don't know if-"
"Shhhh," he soothed and she was caught in the rhythmic pulsing of his eyes. But still…
"Mah first kiss was-was-" he paused and she was able to think more clearly. A little. "Mah mutation kicked in the fahst time," she said thickly. His fingers, trailing up to her cheek, stroked it gently.
"Du calme Rogue. Jus' breath. 'll be bon. Not like de las' time." Foggily, she knew he gave a grin, but she couldn't focus… His eyes were so bright. "An' y' gonna rememba dis one." It was in undertone and the words buzzed, her world now colored in red and black. Reaching out, blurring the edges of her periphery vision, glowing and shifting as with breathing…
His lips were on hers and drowsily, she let her eyes shut. The pressure was warm, so warm, firm, and she felt herself angle almost instinctively to fit them together. But too soon, he drew back and she breathed deeply, hazily.
"Yah hypnotized meh Cajun," she mumbled lethargically, feeling too dazed to truly complain. She could bitch later.
"Needed y' ta know y' could do it," he returned easily. He fiddled with her tank strap as her lips tingled.
"'s that part of those empath powers?" she asked curiously.
It startled him and he shot her an assessing look, before consciously relaxing. She didn't react. "Bit," he admitted casually, though she could guess at the calculations going on in his head. "Amplify what somebody already feeling," he traced up to her lips and whisked a finger around them, slanting a tame leer at her when she blushed, "or distort it ta make dem a tad more," his fingers twitched, "flexible." He tilted his head, letting his overgrown bangs tumble down by his eyes. "Why y' ask?"
It was a shrewd question, but she shrugged. "Jus' wondering. Thought yah could use it ta know when ta stop during practice."
His eyes became remote, though she could tell it was more out of thought than rejection. "Yah really t'ought dis out when y' picked meh." There was a deliberation to his tone that made her slightly uneasy.
"Well yeah. Didn't think ah just picked yah 'cuz yah 'good looks', did yah?" She said it with the level of sarcastic teasing that permeated almost all their interactions. She looked at him pointedly, only to register the faintest flicker. And she faltered. Did it bother him?
The flicker had disappeared almost before it had formed. "Oh, I know yah did," he returned cockily. Another mask.
But he was letting her keep hers, to some extent…
She pushed him lightly in response.
It wasn't like she hadn't picked him for his looks though. By now, she was far enough out of denial to admit that she was attracted to him. Okay, she was very attracted to him. The boy was hot. That drawl reminded her of everything she missed from the south and everything she'd never really got to experience. The stubble gave away his 'bad boy' bent, a thread of common experience that bound them: trained to be capable in perhaps not-so-legal respects. His auburn hair, too, never very well behaved, haphazardly falling over his face in a way that just begged for a smoothing touch. Or well, one that'd mess them up even more.
And then there were his eyes. They were pretty. She knew they made people uncomfortable. Red and black, fire and brimstone, eyes of the devil – Le Diable Blanc, a voice whispered in the back of her head elusively. Yet somehow, they suited him, fit him with such unique precision, she always felt he was incomplete when he wore shades or those stupid contacts or image inducer. That was unnatural for him and she had to say, she preferred him natural. They were beautiful. He was – not beautiful perhaps, for he was just a shade too rough to fall into such an easy categorization. He was something though. Something she most definitely liked.
But this was the most they would ever be.
And as inevitable as progress was, so inevitably things began to change…
Rogue blew pale strands from her face, vaguely wishing she'd had the sense to tie it back. Flag football was not a good activity for loose hair. She briefly considered asking Kitty for a scrunchie, but in view of the fact she was on the other team, it probably wasn't a good idea. Darn. Just her luck 'sibling' solidarity had popped into Kurt's head, making him beg Jean for them to be together. And because he and Kitty had the most evasive powers, they were forced to be on separate teams.
(Kitty, claiming cabin fever, had managed to wrangle a reluctant agreement to play from Scott, despite her necessary use of a wheelchair. Also, the fact she could phase through any potential cause of harm gave her enough legitimacy to force the point – or it could be the fact she asked in front of the Professor who'd raised an eyebrow when Scott tried to point out that she'd be unhelpful in a wheelchair. Actually, she'd even managed to score a touchdown, though Rogue knew to a reasonable degree that it was staged.)
Of course, technically, this was supposed to be a no-power game. But then again, practically every even semi-sportish game they played was supposed to be that way, but, well… She watched Roberto flare up a hand and scorch off Rahne's flag. Rahne immediately stopped, losing hold of the ball to spin around and growl angrily, but the ball was still in play – Bobby icing a trail for it when Sam dove for it, dropping into Cannonball form.
It never ended up that way.
It was at times like this she realized her mutation really did suck. It was completely useless unless she was able to get someone else's powers. She flexed her arms, strategically left bare by her tank top. Hopefully someone would finally throw her the ball and she'd be able to have some fun.
And finally, Kurt bamfed and grabbed it before Sam could reach it.
"No teleporting to the end zone! Too easy!" Kurt paused at the call from Scott. She rolled her eyes. Of course he'd say that. Besides, he was captain of the other team.
"Ova heah Kurt!" She waved her arms. Maybe 'sibling solidarity' didn't have to be so bad. "Ah'm open!" Dodging Sam with acrobatic finesse, he nodded and threw with surprising precision for someone with only three fingers to steady the ball.
A little maneuvering, nerve-wracking cringing when a firework barely missed it, and it slipped snugly into her grip. "'Bout time."
She vaguely heard the shout behind her as she turned to the endzone, "Someone cover Rogue!"
Needless to say, she would've been very surprised to know that just across the field, Gambit grinned and actually listened to Scott's order. For once. "Oh let me."
She was expecting an attack. She was the perfect long distance target. Thus, it shocked the hell out of her when she wasn't hit with fire or heat energy or any other kind of energy projectile. Nope. She was hit with another body.
He caught her at an angle, making her spin sideways, a move he somehow duplicated, so that when she went down in a heap, so did he, getting tangled in the process. She hit the ground hard, but a hand to her neck quickly protected that from injury. Blinking, she groaned and finally got a look at her attacker.
Gambit.
Surprise, surprise.
"What the hell dah yah think yah doin'?" she gritted out. "This ain't supposed ta be a tackle game."
He dipped his head down. "What can Gambit say chérie," he breathed on her, "I'm bad at resistin' temptation." He grinned unrepentantly when she began to ineffectively try to buck him off, her arms strategically pinned to her sides by the exact positioning of his body – something he'd perfected during their other practices. Though admittedly, during those times he was usually concerned with getting her to touch him, not the opposite. "And if y' keep strugglin'," his eyes started to glow to a degree she was beginning to recognize, "ah'm gonna get some more temptin' ideas."
She froze, but kept her glare. "Let meh up."
"Aw com' on," his lips were far too close and she clenched her jaw, as if hoping that would make the sudden swarm in her stomach disappear and take the sudden urge to kiss him with it as his breath mapped out her cheek and his voice bottomed out in that way that fully maximized the sexy element of his drawl, "how 'bout some motivation?"
She couldn't help it. She really couldn't help her response. Suppose that said something about her own ability to resist temptation. She let her eyelids shutter. "Ah don't think anahything ah'm thinking of would motivate ya to get off me." The smolder went up a palpable degree.
"Get off her Gambit." She flushed at the sudden reminder they were in public, hello! Gambit didn't blink an eyelash. But with a sigh of utmost reluctance, he picked himself off her, though not without letting a gloved hand trail up the length of her torso. "This is flag football, not touch Gambit." Scott immediately launched into lecture mood. She got up, a little shaky, but flatly refusing Gambit's proffered hand. She could feel his eyes as she brushed herself off, the lecture a buzz in her ears, as well as his likely, until – "Just because Rogue's getting a handle on touching doesn't mean you can be all over her Gambit!"
She froze in mortification, but managed to wake up before Gambit could do more than open his big fat mouth that was practically leering. "Ah can take care of mahself, thahnk yah Scott! So just back off!" She whirled, catching the other X-Men yet again just prior to speech. "Yah too swamp rat! Ah ain't asking to be man handled, 'specially in a game where weh not even supposed ta touch!" She tried to block the downright wicked glint in his eyes. Giving an emphatic hmph, she stalked off, feeling the blush rise in her cheeks.
Oh, he was going to have far too much fun with that that night, she just knew it.
And so stalking away, she missed the curious even if amused looks darting her way.