Roxanne wakes up with a terrible headache and no very clear memory of the night before. Shit, was she drinking tequila? Never a good idea, Roxanne. Never a good idea.

She opens bleary eyes and then very nearly screams, because Megamind is sitting on her dresser, slouched back against the wall, watching her and what. the everlovingfuck. is Megamind doing here. in her fucking bedroom?

Roxanne makes a strangled noise.

"Oh good," Megamind says, voice rough-edged, as if with sleep or exhaustion or—

(arousal)

"—you're awake," he says, and rubs his hand down his face.

Roxanne makes another strangled noise.

"—what," she manages to say.

Megamind looks at her and his mouth goes flat.

"Sorry," he says. "I decided that the intrinsic creepiness of me watching you while you slept would be less terrible than the possibility of you throwing up in the night and dying."

Roxanne's stomach revolts on cue; she bolts for the bathroom, making it just in time to vomit in the toilet.

(Oh god tequila why would you do that to yourself Roxanne)

"Miss Ritchi—" Megamind says from the doorway as Roxanne retches again jesus christ this day is just getting off to a fanfuckingtastic start—

Megamind makes a distressed noise, and then his hands are in her hair, holding it back from her face as she throws up again, and Roxanne is bewildered and embarrassed and ridiculously fucking grateful, his hands cool against her skin.

Finally she's done; she leans shakily back against the bathroom cabinet, blinking tears from her eyes.

Megamind brushes her hair back from her face and stands.

"I'll be right back," he says.

Roxanne closes her eyes, hears Megamind leave, hears him come back and run the sink for a moment and then turn it off.

"Here," he says, and Roxanne opens her eyes to see him kneeling in front of her again, holding a glass of water out to her.

(Megamind's hand on the back of her head, Megamind sitting on the edge of her bed and helping her to drink)

Roxanne takes the glass. She rinses her mouth, spits, and then drinks.

"Do you think you can eat something?" Megamind asks, voice pitched quiet enough that it doesn't even hurt her head.

Roxanne grimaces.

"I want to brush my teeth," she says.

"Okay," Megamind stands.

She hears him rummaging around in her cabinet. Roxanne closes her eyes briefly for strength, and then grabs the edge of the sink and pulls herself to her feet.

Roxanne sways once she's standing; Megamind catches her waist, stopping her from falling.

(I'll bet you're a fantastic dancer)

"Careful," he says, voice low.

He steps back away from her, far enough that she's standing on her own, close enough to catch her if she falls; Roxanne leans back against the sink.

This close, Roxanne can see the dark shadows underneath his eyes, smudged eyeliner and exhaustion, can see the pulse beating in his throat, can see him swallow.

"Here," he says, pushing two tylenol into her hand, giving Roxanne her toothbrush. He slips out of the room.

Roxanne, not knowing what else to do, swallows the pills and brushes her teeth, careful not to make herself gag again.

She rinses her toothbrush under the faucet, rinses out her mouth, splashes water over her face, and glances in the mirror.

God, she looks like shit, face pale and hair wild, still in her dress from the night before, the fabric wrinkled and somehow sordid in the morning light.

She winces and goes back into her bedroom, to her bed. Megamind is probably gone by now; she's still not really sure what the fuck he was doing here in the first place, but now that she's alone, she'll be able to sleep off this hangover.

Roxanne sits on the bed, curls up on her side; she'll change her clothes in a minute, just a minute. She closes her eyes and—

—she—

—remembers—

(Megamind's body on top of her own, his mouth opening over hers, slick and hard and demanding)

What.

Roxanne is.

Roxanne wakes up in last night's dress with a full sense-memory of what Megamind's mouth tastes like what the fuck is—

(the lights of the club on Megamind's skin, his lips against her ear let me take you home, the cold cab window against her cheek, spinning on the sidewalk, face turned up to the night sky, Megamind sweeping her off her feet take me to bed Megamind kneeling and taking off her shoes, his hands pressing bandaids to her skin Roxanne in his lap with her arms around his neck leaning down to—)

Did—did she—

(What are you doing, I thought you meant, wasn't some sort of code, Megamind backing away from her—)

Oh fucking hell. She only just got drunk and threw herself at Megamind last night, didn't she? Shit. Shit. She remembers begging him to fuck her, remembers him saying no, remembers pleading with him to stay with her oh god this is the worst thing that Roxanne has ever done while drunk. The worst. This is the worst. She is the worst.

"Toast," Megamind says, from the doorway. "And. Tea. Sorry. I was going to make coffee but I didn't know how to work your machine and I, um, thought I'd better not risk it? I used the microwave. For the tea. And the toaster. For the toast. Obviously. Obviously for the toast. I—I know how to make toast."

"What are you still doing here?" Roxanne says, clutching at her hair in an attempt to stop herself from panicking.

"Ah," Megamind says, putting the tea and the plate down on the bedside table. "Sorry. I'll—I'll just—of course, you want me to leave—"

"No!" Roxanne says before she can stop herself, because she is a sad and pathetic human. "I—I just don't understand, you—you made me toast; why the fuck would you make me toast?"

"Am I—was the toast—am I doing this wrong?" Megamind asks, drawing back.

"I don't know what you're trying to do!" Roxanne says, feeling a little hysterical. "Megamind, last night—"

Megamind winces, his whole body flinching away from her.

"Don't," he says, "you don't—you don't have to say anything. In fact—please. Please don't. Just. I."

He swallows, then looks at her again, eyes meeting hers with what is clearly an effort.

"I meant it," he says. "And I wouldn't mention it again, but you don't—I don't ever want you to think that—that no one wants you. Because I do. I always—hopefully that's. Some small consolation. Although, really, Roxanne, I'm sure I'm not the only one, because you're—" he waves a hand at her. "You know. Perfect. So."

Roxanne stares at him, wide-eyed, clutching her pillow to her chest, as the rest of the memories from last night click into place.

(so fucking in love with you that it's hard to breathe, and wanted to do this for fucking years Roxanne, and—)

(ask me again. Ask me again tomorrow.)

(is the answer going to be different tomorrow?)

(it doesn't matter.)

(because you aren't going to ask the question)

"Megamind," Roxanne whispers.

"It's okay," he says quickly, backing away, arms wrapped around his chest, eyes avoiding hers. "It's okay, you don't—"

And Roxanne can feel her heart beating hard in her throat, can feel herself trembling, because this is—this is not her drunk on tequila and dazed by flashing lights, wrapping her arms around Megamind's neck, this is her sober and terrified, looking at Megamind in the cold morning light and holding her shaking hand out to him and saying—

"Megamind—please."

He goes still, stares at her, shock and confusion in his face.

"This," Roxanne swallows. "This is me. Asking the question."

Megamind stares at her for a long moment, long enough for Roxanne to start to worry that she's somehow—

But then Megamind moves slowly, hesitantly forward, kneels on the bed in front of her. He takes her hand, lacing their fingers together, and then his other hand slides into her hair and he leans down and—

It's nothing like the kiss from last night.

That kiss was rough and fast and hungry. This one is unbelievably gentle, Megamind's mouth light and unsure over hers in a way that makes Roxanne's heart ache. She reaches up with her free hand and places her palm on Megamind's face, brushes her thumb over his cheekbone, and kisses him back.

He's kissing her like it's a question, still, so Roxanne kisses him like an answer, like the answer is yes, until he finally seems to get it, pulling her close and kissing her with more certainty.

Megamind pulls away but doesn't let go of her. He kisses her cheekbone, her ear, her chin, the corner of her jaw.

One of the straps on Roxanne's dress has fallen down over her shoulder again; Megamind pushes it back into place and presses a kiss to her shoulder, and that is the tipping point for Roxanne, really: Megamind pushing the strap of her dress back up, sweet and unexpected and ridiculous.

Megamind with his pushing up the straps of her dress and his I-made-you-toast-with-the-toaster and his sitting on top of her dresser instead of on her bed and just—him. Really. Just him.

She laughs and kisses him again, quick and light, and then sits back and takes his hands, guiding them underneath the hem of her dress. She laughs again at the shocked look on his face and lifts her arms over her head.

"I want you to take it off of me," Roxanne says.

Megamind looks even more shocked than before, but he does it, sliding his palms up her body and pulling the dress over her head.

She isn't wearing a bra, a fact that Megamind really doesn't seem prepared for, to judge by the way he takes a sharp breath, lets it out in a ragged exhale.

He kisses her again, and Roxanne lets herself fall backwards, trusting Megamind to catch her. He does, arms going around her back, lowering her gently to the bed.

"Roxanne," he says, voice shaking, and then he presses his lips to her throat.

He kisses down the length of her body; not just the obvious places like her neck and shoulders and breasts, but everywhere: the inside of her left elbow, her right wrist, both her knees, her right shin and her left ankle.

Megamind kisses her left hip, right above the line of her lacy thong, and then makes a surprised sort of noise.

"What?" Roxanne asks.

"You have a constellation on your hip," he says, rubbing his thumb over her skin. "The freckles, here."

Roxanne raises herself onto her elbows and looks down at her own hip, at Megamind.

"Really?" she asks. "Which one?"

"The Queen of the Stars," he says, "Alte-re."

Roxanne frowns.

"I've never—"

"It's not an earth constellation," Megamind says absently.

And that's—Roxanne is feeling a little overwhelmed, suddenly, because this is a man who has seen the actual stars, up close, and he is looking at her as if she is—

"You are so beautiful," Megamind tells her in a hushed tone. "So incredibly—do you know how—all my life, I have never—I have never seen anything as beautiful as you are."

Roxanne—how is she—how can she respond to something like that, to—

Megamind kisses her hip again, kisses the freckle constellation from an alien sky. He slides his fingers beneath the lace on her hip.

"Is this—" he asks. "Roxanne, can I—?"

He glances up at her and Roxanne nods, lifts her hips so he can pull her panties off of her.

And then she's completely bare in front of him, which should feel scary, maybe, given the fact that he's still fully dressed, given the fact that he's a criminal, a supervillain, a—

But he's still looking at her with that expression of amazement, of wonder and, and reverence, and all Roxanne feels is powerful and beautiful and loved.

(besides, this is Megamind. Roxanne has never been afraid, with Megamind)

"Roxanne," Megamind says, "God, Roxanne—can I—please, will you let me—?"

And Roxanne isn't really certain what he's asking, but she says—

"Yes."

Megamind lets out a shuddery breath and leans his forehead against her hip.

"I," he says, face hidden against her skin, "I have never—I really want to—please, if I do something wrong, please let me know."

"Okay," Roxanne says.

"Okay," Megamind breathes, and moves to lie between Roxanne's knees, hands on her inner thighs.

"Okay," he repeats in a whisper. He moves his hands to Roxanne's hips, brushes his thumb over the pattern on her left hip. And then he takes a quick breath and leans his head down between Roxanne's legs and kisses her there.

Roxanne gasps and Megamind pulls away, looking up at her as if he's afraid he's hurt her. So Roxanne smiles at him and reaches out to stroke her hand over the curve of his head and parts her knees a little wider in invitation.

Megamind moans when her palm cups the back of his head, and he bends down to put his mouth on her again.

And Roxanne is pretty sure she knows what he meant by I have never, even though he didn't complete the thought, so she's not expecting—but this is Megamind, of course, and Megamind is nothing if not a fast learner. And he's clearly—he's paying attention; when a specific flick of his tongue makes Roxanne's breath catch, he does it again, tiny alterations in the repeated motion until he finds the perfect pressure, the perfect angle, until Roxanne is crying out and clutching at the sheets with one hand, her other hand braced on the back of Megamind's head as she rocks her hips up into him.

He does that again and again and again, learning all of the ways to make her arch her back and cry out for him. And when he has a whole array of motions figured out, he runs through all of them, one right after the other, going through them in a pattern. Just as Roxanne thinks she catches the order, though, just as she thinks she'll be able to predict what's next, he alters it, repeating the motions randomly now, speeding up, and—

"Megamind—" Roxanne gasps, pushing herself up on one elbow so that she can—she wants to see—

God, yes, the large, smooth shape of his head between her legs and the blue of his skin, so startling and perfect against her own, her hand on the back of his head, his hands on her waist, not holding her still but stroking her skin and letting her move as she likes, blue hands that are so much gentler and more generous than they have any right to be.

This is—this is Megamind that she's with, Megamind with his mouth pressed to her and his tongue fluttering against her, driving her closer and closer to the edge, Megamind grinding his hips down against the bed and moaning like getting to do this for Roxanne is the best thing that he's ever experienced, and—

Roxanne gasps out—

"Megamind—"

—again as she tips over that precipice of pleasure.

...to be continued