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When It's Love	By : DrunkenScotsman Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > Het - Male/Female Views: 4320 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All X-Men characters and locations are the intellectual property of Marvel Comics. I make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter 6: Mutual Benefit
- Exhib, Voy
“What in blazes is keepin’ that dad-blamed swamp-rat?” growled Rogue as she checked her watch for what seemed the hundredth time.
“You don’t think he, like, stood you up or whatever?” asked Jubilee from her lounge chair beside the pool. The young mutant blew a bubble with her gum and flipped to the next page of her issue of Cosmo. The bright light of the midsummer sun reflected from the lenses of her trademark pink shades.
“Naw, he’s probably just primpin’,” snorted the older woman. She set her watch back into her bag and tried to relax. A full month had passed since she had taken Remy to visit the hospital and revealed herself to him – in more ways than one. Since then, the two of them had gone on a small number of much-lower-impact dates, such as lunch out or a long sunset drive. Their relationship had reverted, more or less, to the flirtatious, quasi-romantic tango they’d danced before Remy’s confession. Now, she waited by the pool for the Cajun, accompanied by Jubilee, who frequently lounged outside on hot days.
“You’re for sure I’m okay to, like, hang out?” Jubilee checked. “You two aren’t gonna make it, y’know, awkward and stuff?”
“Jubilee, honey, Ah’m countin’ on your stickin’ around ta keep that Cajun on his best behavior,” replied Rogue, lowering her shades to wink at the teen girl. Both of them giggled at Remy’s expense.
A few more minutes passed, punctuated only by the occasional explosion of Jubilee’s gum-bubbles. Rogue fought the urge to check her watch yet again – the watched pot, she’d heard, never boiled. Instead, she imagined various ways she might chew Remy out once he finally decided to show up. Granted, other methods of using her tongue on him might be more enjoyable – the thought brought a blush to her cheeks – but Beast had updated her yesterday that his project remained “stubbornly in the design phase, due to the complex and unforeseen interrelationship of energy usage” and a bunch more techno-babble that she’d completely tuned out.
“Everyone can relax,” announced the Cajun as he approached, jolting Rogue from her thoughts. “Gambit has arrived at last.”
Rogue and Jubilee craned their heads towards the source of the voice, and their reactions were everything Remy had hoped for. Jubilee froze, staring over the rims of her shades, bubble paused just before popping. Rogue’s jaw dropped, and her cheeks glowed bright red.
Of the two, Rogue found her voice first: “Remy, Ah can’t believe you’d wear that thing again!”
“Oh my God!” breathed Jubilee. “Is that, like, a banana hammock?”
Remy strutted to an empty chair and draped his towel over it, giving the women a full view. He’d worn a briefs-style swimsuit, of the variety popular in Europe, that left little to the imagination. He couldn’t help but wonder, since she’d recognized it, how often Rogue thought about the last time he’d worn this piece over a year ago.
Behind his “aviator” sunglasses, the Cajun took in the sight of the two women beside the pool. Only seventeen, Jubilee received a cursory glance, enough to admire the creative design of her yellow-and-hot-pink bikini, the colors overlapping from one side to the other. Remy could tell she’d become quite the heartbreaker when she attended college next year, something which appeared more and more likely thanks to how much she’d flourished under the Professor’s tutelage and the relative stability of Mansion life – at least, compared to her previous life bouncing from foster home to foster home. Her open admiration flattered him, of course, but Remy preferred to focus his attention on the woman he loved.
The object of the Cajun’s affections wore a flattering, if conservative, pale-green one-piece swimsuit. Remy let his gaze linger over Rogue’s curves, which the swimsuit did little to hide. His trademark smirk formed on his lips since he could tell she was still staring at him. “Tres belle, non?” he asked with intentional ambiguity.
Regaining her composure, Rogue shook her head. “Ah done told ya after last tahm, swamp-rat,” she scolded, “that blue ain’t yer color.”
Jubilee looked back and forth between them, an incredulous expression crinkling her eyebrows and mouth. “Helloooo? Gambit’s prancing around in a g-string, and all you wanna talk about is the color?” She fidgeted in her lounge chair.
“Ah seen it before,” Rogue answered with a shrug. “Don’t do nothin’ for me,” she lied.
“Long story, petite,” Remy answered as he stretched out on the chair. “In short, Rogue dared dis Cajun t’ wear one o’ dese a while back, ‘n Remy called de bluff.”
Jubilee’s tongue darted over her lips. “Uh… huh…”
Rogue rolled onto her side to face Remy. “Whah’d ya wear it this tahm?” she challenged him.
Remy’s smirk seemed to turn wicked. “Y’ seemed t’ enjoy it tres bien last time, chére.”
“Keep dreamin’, swamp-rat.” Rogue rolled her eyes, even if they were hidden behind her shades.
Jubilee sat up, her arms crossed across her chest. “Y’know what? I think I should, like, leave you two alone. I’m a total third wheel here,” the teenage mutant complained. Before a panicky Rogue could protest, Jubilee slipped her feet into her flip-flops, grabbed her magazine and CD player, and scurried away. Over her shoulder, she called, “Later!”
Remy chuckled at the fleeing girl. “Didn’t mean t’ run petite off,” he mused, “but at least we alone now, chére.”
“Li’l turncoat,” Rogue grumbled at the now-absent Jubilee. Aloud, she sighed, “Ah reckon Ah can’t blame her. Seein’ you in that teensy thing sticks with a gal.” A playful smile rested on her lips at the insinuation.
Remy’s eyebrows shot upward. “Dat a fact, chére?”
Despite the blush coloring her cheeks at the near-admission, Rogue wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Don’t let yer mahnd wallow in the gutter too much now, sugah,” she teased.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Remy teased back, blatantly looking her up and down.
Rogue squirmed a bit under the Cajun’s gaze. She wondered if he was undressing her in his thoughts; in fact, she rather hoped he was. A shiver climbed her spine at the notion, and she wished she owned a less conservative swimsuit to wear so Remy would have just a smidge more to look at. A bit to her surprise, she realized she rather enjoyed showing off – but only for him.
Various options along that vein arose in Rogue’s imagination. She pictured wearing a skimpy bikini, one that barely covered anything and appeared a breath away from falling off entirely. She entertained the notion of slipping the crotch of her current swimsuit aside to show her own crotch, which she kept meticulously smooth. She even wondered how Remy might react if she began rubbing herself out here under the clear blue sky.
“I t’ink maybe I ain’t de one whose mind in de gutter,” Remy observed, pulling Rogue from her fantasies.
“How do ya figure?” Rogue retorted, a defensive note in her voice.
“Looks like y’ left de headlights on,” answered Remy with a wicked smirk and a nod at her chest.
A glance downward revealed that the fabric of her swimsuit couldn’t hide the protrusion atop each half of her bosom, betraying her arousal. With a yelp, Rogue covered them with her hands. Her face flushed at having been caught red-handed.
“If y’ gonna do dat, chére, maybe y’ let me instead,” the Cajun suggested to keep her off-balance.
Rogue glared at Remy through her shades and snorted, “You just want an excuse ta rub yer paws all over me again, swamp-rat.”
Remy’s grin only grew wickeder. “Guilty as charged. What’s de sentence?”
Rogue’s tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Meet me in mah room in fahve minutes. Don’t change clothes,” she instructed, “and don’t be late.” Rogue stood up and grabbed her bag, intending to take flight for the balcony outside her window.
Remy stood as well and, before Rogue left the ground, closed the short distance between them. His hand on her hips arrested her. “Not even a hint what y’ got planned, chére?” he interrogated her, letting his thumbs trace the curve of her waist.
The breath hitched in Rogue’s throat at the Cajun’s touch. The gradual creep of his hands upward pinned her in place, the pressure of each fingertip like a point of flame atop her ribs. When Remy grazed the stiffened points of her bosom, she mewled and clenched her fists, unwilling to push him away, unable to explore him with her hands in kind.
Remy pinched and tugged lightly, nearly wrenching a lusty moan from this gorgeous woman. Without the additional lining for support like her uniform had, the thinner swimsuit fabric yielded to the experienced tactile lover a fuller sensory experience of Rogue’s breasts – their warmth, their weight, the gentle give of them as he squeezed. If her panting was any indication, Rogue was enjoying the novel sensations as much as he was, just as he hoped she would.
Unused to the feeling of hands besides her own, Rogue found Remy’s touch utterly electrifying. Deft fingers plied her nipples with practiced ease and intuited the precise amounts of pressure to apply to escalate her towards ecstasy. Not since her first timid explorations at the age of fourteen had she ascended so close to climax solely from above-the-waist action.
Pleasure surged through Rogue’s body as Remy rolled her nipples between his fingers. Her knees weakened and threatened to buckle, but with effort she stood strong because she couldn’t risk leaning on him. A loud moan began, but she clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle it.
Remy smirked as he felt Rogue’s whole body shudder, straining to remain upright through the maelstrom of pleasure he was inciting upon her. Even muffled, her screams told him everything he needed to know. He only wished he could see her eyes at the exact moment orgasm engulfed her. Soon, he assured himself, Rogue wouldn’t have to hold back or hide around him ever again.
A high-pitched squeal signaled the onset of orgasm. Rogue’s whole body quivered, and she managed to lower herself back onto her lounge chair as her legs gave way. Her bag landed on the ground with a thud. The soles of her feet stung a bit from long contact with hot concrete, but that pain couldn’t overcome the bliss subsuming her consciousness.
Without breaking contact, Remy shifted his grip down to Rogue’s waist to guide her onto her seat for as gentle a landing as could be managed mid-climax. He couldn’t wait to take her to that peak over and over again using the myriad techniques he’d learned over the years. Exploring Rogue, he knew, would prove quite an adventure – for both of them.
Once she’d finally caught her breath, Rogue leaned back on her elbows. She fixed the Cajun kneeling beside her with a wither glare, and she pulled down her shades so he could see her glaring at him. “Ah really hate you sometahms,” she growled, but the curl of her lips into a half-smile betrayed that this wasn’t one of them.
“Dat cuts deep, chére, after I been so good t’ you,” Remy answered. His lips formed an honest-to-goodness pout that launched a shiver up Rogue’s spine.
“Ya mean after embarrassin’ me,” Rogue shot back, “makin’ me… y’know… out here where anyone coulda seen or heard me.” Her face reddened at the thought, and she sat up to fold her arms across her bust defensively.
Remy shifted away, so as not to crowd her. “T’ought y’ liked showin’ off, after dat afternoon in de garage,” he explained.
“Ah lahk showin’ off fer you,” clarified Rogue. “Ah was thinkin’ Ah’d put on a li’l show for ya up in mah room.” She shifted on the chair, nose wrinkling slightly. “Now mah bathin’ suit’s damp in one particular spot. Downraht uncomfortable.”
Remy’s smirk turned wickeder still.
Before he could speak whatever perversity had crossed his mind, Rogue pre-empted him: “Don’t even think it, swamp-rat. Ah’m headin’ back to mah room t’ shower, but mah earlier offer stands. Fahve minutes.” With that, she stood, collected her bag, and took flight to her room.
The Cajun took his time sauntering into the Mansion from poolside. He took his time ascending the stairs to the second floor where all the bedrooms were located. He took his time moseying along the corridor towards Rogue’s door. All the while, the smirk never left his face.
The Southern belle opened the door almost immediately when he knocked, three staccato raps of knuckle on wood. A peach bath towel wrapped around her body from armpits to mid-thigh, baring no shortage of cleavage. Bright pink tinged her cheeks, and Rogue licked her lips as she addressed her visitor: “Hey, sugah. Glad ya showed.”
Resting his sunglasses atop his head, Remy winked, a saucy gleam in his eye. “Wouldn’t miss dis show for anyt’ing, chére. What y’ got in mind?”
Rogue started to answer, then stopped herself. With a sultry flash of her jade-green eyes, she simply instructed, “Follow me,” her voice practically a purr. She turned to lead him to her bathroom, hips swaying invitingly with each step, not needing to look to confirm that the Cajun followed.
“Ah need me a shower,” she explained as she slid the frosted-glass door aside. “Ah’d love it if’n you could join me, but that’s too risky. For now, Ah’m gonna bathe ‘n let ya watch.” She pointed at the toilet. “You can sit on the commode; the seat cover’s pretty plush.”
Remy ran his fingers along the rug-like cover and found it reminiscent of shag carpet. “Jus’ how much y’ want me t’ enjoy what I’m ‘bout t’ see, chére?” he asked as he sat.
While his back had been turned, Rogue had stepped into the shower and closed the door. Her head and the shower-head showed above the metal railing, but the rest of her became an indistinct blur behind the glass. To stall for thinking time, she unwrapped the towel and flicked it to Remy, who snatched it with deft hands before it covered his face. “Ah reckon it’d be cruel ta tell ya not ta rub one out,” she answered with a playful-naughty tone, “so Ah won’t since you’ve been good ta me so far.”
“Merci beaucoup,” Remy drawled, his eyes lingering along Rogue’s body even though the glass rendered it a vaguely-woman-shaped flesh-colored blob. His memory could fill in the proverbial blanks from the ribs upward, but he had to imagine how she looked from the waist down. His briefs grew more than a little uncomfortable due to his imagining, particularly when Rogue bent over to turn on the faucet. Quiet as a whisper, Remy slipped out of his now-too-tight briefs and settled in to enjoy the show.
Rogue’s hands roamed her body, and her heart pounded cacophonously in her ears. Even with the glassy barrier between them, she could feel Remy’s eyes on her, feel his desire for her. Eyes shut, she didn’t dare look to find out if he’d removed that skimpy swimsuit which had so delectably shown off Remy’s lean, sculpted legs and butt, to say nothing of what it covered yet provided hints about through contour. Her fingertips dug into her thighs at the thought.
The Cajun cupped his hands behind his head, waiting in eager anticipation for Rogue to look his way. Despite the deep urge to do so, Remy refrained from touching himself, the better to draw out this unexpected but not unwelcome experience. Instead, he focused on the face of the woman he loved and the way her lips hung apart as she panted; to his experienced eyes, each twitch of her eyelids or lips became a thesis on the subject of Rogue’s arousal.
Using a cloth she’d placed earlier, Rogue grasped a bar of soap and washed her neck, shoulders, arms and legs, which had all received a coat of sunscreen before she put on her swimsuit. Once she’d finished, the warm water cascaded over her skin and rinsed her clean, the suds migrating en masse from her limbs to the shower drain. “Ah really do wish ya could join me, sugah,” she reiterated, both to break the silence and buy herself a bit more time.
“Maybe next time, chére,” Remy replied. “Right now, I’m just enjoyin’ seein’ dis side o’ you. Didn’t t’ink you’d like showin’ off dis much.”
“Ah reckon it’s a thrill for me, on account o’ havin’ ta stay so covered up all the tahm,” she theorized. Closing her eyes, she turned and pressed her upper body against the glass. The cool surface against her sensitive bust triggered a shiver and a soft yelp. Deliberately – so as to appear sultry – Rogue opened her eyes.
Before her hungry gaze reclined Remy LeBeau as she’d often imagined him: in all his glory, all lean muscle and insouciance, that infuriatingly-sexy smirk on his lips, those haunting red-on-black eyes staring back at her with obvious desire. Against her wishes, or because of their subconscious pull, Rogue’s eyes gravitated toward the one part of him that those briefs had hidden. At the sight of Remy’s manhood at full attention, stretching halfway to his navel, the stirrings of desire in her own body blossomed into full-blown yearning. Her grip on the metal bar holding the shower door tightened; her jaw dropped; her eyes widened. “Oh mah Gawd,” she breathed.
Remy winked. “You’re welcome, chére,” he teased. Part of him wondered, dimly, how long the metal Rogue gripped would hold up under her superhuman strength. More of him appreciated the increased clarity of her bosom against the glass, even if it also flattened the area in the process.
Whatever vague concerns he had for the metal railing evaporated when Rogue’s hands joined her bosom on the glass door. The beautiful woman before him raked her fingers downward and rocked with blatant desire. The Cajun cursed the door’s opacity when her right hand slipped lower and vanished; even though he knew its destination, he couldn’t make out the details to discover exactly how this knockout pleased herself. Inwardly, he shrugged – he’d just have to figure it out later. A long, loud moan, audible over the sound of the shower, returned Remy’s focus to the present.
Due to frequent practice, Rogue’s fingers knew just where, when, and how to touch and tease herself, both to maximize and prolong her pleasure. A languid back-and-forth motion over the sensitive nub at the apex of her sex drew forth another moan. She widened her stance to give herself more latitude between her legs.
“Mind if I play along?” asked Remy, one hand grazing his six-pack abs in a way Rogue desperately wanted to try, destined for regions further south. At Rogue’s enthusiastic nod, he languidly ran his fingertips along his length before wrapping a hand around himself and beginning a slow, steady stroke.
The sight mesmerized Rogue and spurred her to rub faster and in a circular pattern. Moans of delight poured from deep within her and echoed off the walls. His name escaped her lips and brought a grin to Remy’s face.
For his part, the Cajun wished for the day he could more directly cause those moans of ecstasy, to drive her to scream his name again and again. Now, though, he could only watch and be watched, so he committed to memory the way Rogue’s eyes glazed over with pleasure, the way her eyebrows knit together, the way she inhaled so deeply before each moan, scream, or squeal. His own hand sped up.
Deciding she needed more stimulation, Rogue grasped the detachable shower head and pulled it from its securing clasp. She sprayed her neck, bosom, stomach, rear, and thighs, luxuriating in the warmth and pressure exerted against her skin. Peeling herself away from the glass door, she leaned instead against the wall, the tile cool against her back. Pointing the spray at the juncture of her spread thighs wrenched a long, low moan from her. Her free hand against the glass steadied her.
Although disappointed by the obfuscation of Rogue’s breasts, he found the sight of just her hand pressed against the door alluring in its own right, needy and desperate and erotic. Drawn to it like moth to flame, he stood and closed distance, hand raised. Still stroking with his other hand, he pressed his palm against the door; he chose not to dwell on the symbolism of their hands so close yet so far, separated by a necessary barrier.
Rogue cried out his name as she climaxed. Her knees buckled from the force of the first, with another on its heels. Not even landing square on her backside prevented a third orgasmic peak or its accompanying squeals of pleasure.
Outside the shower, Remy winced when he heard what sounded like Rogue slipping and falling, but her continued moaning indicated that she hadn’t sustained any meaningful harm. A familiar tightening in his groin signaled his coming release. “Chére,” he groaned, “I’m gonna blow soon. Whatcha want me t’ do?”
Despite her post-orgasmic daze, Rogue had the presence of mind to scramble onto her knees. She slid open the glass door and found her face less than a foot away from Remy’s hand and member. Mouth hanging open, she tried not to stare; her gaze traveled slowly upward until she met those hypnotic red-on-black eyes. Giving the Cajun as sultry a look as she could manage, she cupped her breasts suggestively.
Remy grinned at the prospect, and the thought of shooting all over her bosom drove him over the edge with a groan. Without much control, though, he also covered her chin and neck. One shot even landed right on Rogue’s lips, causing her to flinch in surprise.
Once she overcame that surprise, Rogue moaned lustily at the mess Remy had made all over her. Curiosity drove her to lick her lips with gusto, experiencing for the first time the unique flavor and texture of a man’s seed. Never before had the Southern woman felt so sexy.
Now spent, Remy knelt so he could face his beloved on the same level. More than anything, he wanted to kiss her at this moment to express the depth and sincerity of his love for her; but that, he knew, would leave him unconscious and spoil the moment. He settled for reaching, with great care and a thief’s light fingers, for the still-running shower head and spraying Rogue’s neck and bosom to rinse her clean.
A grateful smile on her lips, Rogue sighed with contentment. “Not quaht how Ah wanted that ta go,” she admitted. “Maybe soon, we can… do more.”
Remy winked. “Lookin’ forward to it, chére,” he replied. “Dis was plenty o’ fun, dough.”
“It’s a day Ah won’t soon forget, sugah,” agreed Rogue.
____________________________________________________________________
A/N: Greetings, readers! Things are certainly getting steamy, aren't they? This chapter, like the last few, took a bit of effort - I kept hitting sticking points where I had to figure out how, exactly, to move things forward. Hopefully, those weren't obvious here, but please let me know in a review!
Also, I hope no one minds that I kinda shoe-horned Jubilee in. All the other main characters had made an appearance and had lines, and I thought it'd be unfair to Jubilee for her to be left out (as she often was on the 90's Animated Series). In case it wasn't clear, she left to go rub one out after seeing Remy mostly naked. ;)
I don't know when the next chapter will be posted, but I do know that it will either be the last one or the next-to-last one. Until then!
- 5
- 6
- 7
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When It's Love