Wicked Game

disclaimer: I don't own any of the x-men


a little smut coming up *s* Ororo and Kurt go at it but get interrupted as a certain savage returns ...

(...and any mistake you may find - blame me. Edit, edit, edit ... I know, but...)


Ororo Munroe finished the last of the hot chocolate, placing the cup in the dishwasher and stifled a yawn that got her all teary eyed. God, but she was sooo tired, tired and worn out. Worrying over students and friends, Rogue dominated most of her thoughts, and had done so for the last couple of weeks or more. Trying to get through to the girl was difficult, she guarded her castle like a warrior queen and being under siege just wasn’t Rogue. It was so unlike her to be so defensive, and yet Ororo felt no surprise – in comparison to others she’d always considered Rogue to be strong, confident and light hearted, a kind and lovable young woman. Before the incident at Liberty Island she’d had high hopes for Rogue, and it had been a pleasure to teach and work with her and that amazing ability of hers. There was a massive problem connected to the power Rogue possessed, and working to get past that had proven to be more than tricky. Ororo smoothed her face, her heart bled for Rogue, and ignoring the hurt that sometimes showed in the girl’s eyes was hard. Still, Ro believed that the problem could be dealt with, there just had to be a way. No matter how long it was gonna take, they would defeat it, and not just for Rouge’s sake.

There was a sudden blur at the corner of her right eye. Ororo turned to face her favourite blue mutant, but he was gone.

“Kurt, you really gotta stop sneakin’ up on me like that … hey, where did ya go?” she said smiling, hands on her hips.

“I’m right here liebschen …”

“What … ouch! Stop pinching me!”

“Oh, but you are irresistible fräülein Munroe …”, he murmured from somewhere behind her.

She turned to face him, but he had, as for the most part, the upper hand. “… oh no you won’t …”

“… und I could just …”

“… hey, knock it off!”

“… spend my days like this …”

“Damnit Kurt …”, she said, trying her best to sound like the stern teacher she was during classes. It was hard, it made her want to giggle. She didn’t giggle, not Ororo Munroe, no. She did not.

“… squeezing your …”

“… oh you’re so gonna regret this …”

“… lovely behind”, Kurt chuckled, sounding very amused.

Ororo suddenly found herself pressed tight against Kurt’s body. He’d pinned her wrists, looking very amused indeed, grinning, flashing pointy teeth. He was pleased alright.

She made an exasperate sound in her throat, and met his yellow gaze. “You really do need a cold shower mein herr.”

“Vell, that’s vhy I’m here, Storm”, he said with a sultry edge to his voice. He lowered his head above her neck, breathing in the warm scent of the skin.

“Oh really, now … well, you seem to –“, she began.

Kurt slid his hands up and down her hips, the sensation was more than enough for her to feel the need to lean against the wall. The silk robe brushing against her skin felt wonderful, a soft yet exhilarating feeling of fabric against her body. Ororo closed her eyes as she felt him slowly licking her neck, and then gasped when he slipped a hand inside the robe, and grabbed one of her breasts. The feeling of it all made her nipples hard, and thighs heavy.

He chuckled, or so she thought he did. “What’s so funny Kurt?” she said hoarsely, grinding him with her legs. He still held her wrists so it was what she could do, and he didn’t seem to mind.

“No panties, I like that”, he breathed into her ear, and said something in german that made no sense.

She opened her mouth to speak when something slid under the silk robe, stroking the inside of her thighs, light as a feather, almost painfully slow. “Oh, god”, she moaned, trying to free herself from his grasp, but the effort only made Kurt chuckle. “You … bastard … stop … that …”

“No, no, no, now I know you’d be disappointed then”, he mumbled.

“Then don’t … just …”

“Vhat? Say it.”

Ororo gasped and writhed as she felt her body tighten, getting wet and warm. Oh, he was one lucky bastard, still being able to do what he did without using his hands. Sometimes she wondered if he was aware of that tail.

“Unfair … but don’t stop … god, don’t stop that …”

“Say it, Storm”, he motioned, while stroking her neck with his teeth.

“Yes.” Somewhere she was aware that they were actually in the kitchen of the mansion, and that anyone, students or colleagues, could just walk in on them. Luckily he hadn’t torn off her robe, just parted it with his body.

Kurt raised his face just inches from hers. That yellow gaze was almost too much, a colour to drown in, like burning sulphur. They were hauntingly beautiful.

“Say it, love”, he whispered, releasing her wrists and grabbed her bottom. “Say it.”

“Fuck me, Kurt, please just fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He grinned before crushing his lips against her, kissing her deeply. He suddenly swept her up in his arms, and placed her on the counter next to the fridge. Without taking his eyes from hers, he parted her legs and found that she was open and ready.

Ororo freed him, she had to have all of him inside her, the need raced through her body, making lower parts of it heavy with lust. When he entered her she let out a loud gasp, the sensation of him was almost overwhelming as he fucked her, slowly pulling himself out and then thrusting himself back inside her. Ororo wrapped her legs around Kurt’s waist and followed his pace, riding a wave of pure pleasure, when she heard noises from the living room.

“Kurt, stop … wait”, she said trying to keep her voice down. There was definitely someone in the other room. She suddenly remembered Xavier’s warning. “Kurt, there’s someone in the living room … “

He stopped, frowning at her. “Okay, I’ll check it out, just a sec”, he whispered and was gone.

Ororo straightened her hair and checked her robe, her senses were on the edge, if it was an intruder out there moving around in the darkened room … As an extra precaution she opened the drawer containing the knives and other sharp cooking utensils. Somehow it wasn’t that easy to call a blizzard inside of a building. A girl had to be prepared, mutant or not. At least it couldn’t hurt to be.

When the air blurred, Ororo stepped back, clutching the knife in front of her. Kurt fell to the floor with the intruder on top of him. Mud and water splashed everywhere as they struggled, Kurt saying something harsh in german while trying to wrestle his opponent, without getting hurt.

“STOP IT, both of you!” Ororo shouted, trying to pry the intruder off of Kurt. “Get off him you bastard, get the FUCK OFF OF HIM NOW!”

Kurt suddenly vanished and reappeared on the far side of the kitchen. The anger in his eyes made them look like two roaring fires. He continued to speak german, as he always did when he was angry.

“Get the fuck up from the floor, Logan, and don’t make me tell you twice!” Ororo pointed at him with the kitchen knife.

Logan rolled over to lie on his back. He rested his hands on his chest. Ororo hadn’t seen him use the claws, but at the moment she didn’t trust him not to pop them. He narrowed his eyes while studying her.

Ororo shook her head and placed the knife on the counter. “Damnit, Logan, what the hell were you thinking attacking Kurt like that? And where have you been, by the way? Jean’s been real worried about you, you know.” She went for the stern look.

With some effort Logan stood. He stared at her, looking as close to a beast she’d ever seen him before, ferocious and predatory – there was nothing calm about him, he radiated fury and hatred. The look in his eyes was wild, with a touch of madness to it and as he held her gaze he smiled, wicked and distant. There was something lazy about him as well, Ororo noticed. He had to lean against the counter.

“Are you drunk, Logan?” she asked, frowning at him. Kurt was at her back, she could tell, but he was utterly quiet, and probably still angry.

Logan gave a laugh while seemingly searching his pockets for something, almost certainly a cigar, she thought and sighed impatiently.

“Well are you?”

“Am I? Okay, I guess so”, he said, still grinning.

“You sure look like it, in fact you look like shit, Logan. Where the hell have you been,” Ororo said and gestured towards him, “or should I say what have you been doing, looking like that?”

Logan tilted his head to the left, the smile growing wider as he pulled out a piece of cigar from behind the ear. He seemed amused by the situation, and chuckled to himself as he lit the stump.

“I look like shit? Storm, baby, I didn’t think ye disliked my looks that much.” He inhaled deeply and nodded towards Kurt. “Sorry ‘bout that, bub, I thought ye were some burglar or something back there.”

Kurt scowled at Logan. Ororo patted him on the arm, letting him know she was on his side of the matter. Dealing with a drunken Logan was one thing, but the problem was that he wasn’t just drunk-drunk, but really, really drunk, and that was a whole different matter.

“So where have you been?” She crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow at him.

“Everywhere, yes I guess you could say that. But what’s it to ye, ye’re not my mother, are you now, Ro?” he said angrily.

“No, but I sure as hell am worried, maybe not about you personally, but when it comes to my friends, our friends and colleagues, Logan, then I think I have the right to ask where you’ve been, and why you’re covered in mud, and why the fuck you’re practically reeking of booze.”

Logan held up his hands. “Sorry to disappoint ye then because I can’t remember how many bars I’ve been to, and frankly, I don’t give a fuck about it so … This isn’t a prison, right? I mean, the last time I checked, it wasn’t, and I’m certainly not under aged. In fact,” he said, grinning, sounding overly eager at the thought of having another shot of alcohol, “I think I want a beer just about now. Yes, a cold beer, that’ll be great, don’t ye think?”

Ororo went to stand in front of the fridge, blocking Logan’s way. He snarled and pushed her aside, before opening the fridge to grab that beer he’d set his mind to get. Ororo didn’t try to stop him as he went back out to the living room. She heard him putting up his feet on the table. Leaning against Kurt’s shoulder she just didn’t give a damn about Logan, she pitied him, sort of, but most of all she felt sorry for Jean’s sake. They were close friends and shared almost every thought, private or as professionals, as mutants and teachers, but most of all as woman to woman. Understanding Jean was easy, understanding Logan was one of the most difficult things there was. He was far too unpredictable for her to feel comfortable, or even partially comfortable, and knowing he bedded one of her best friends … well, she wasn’t sure about the sex as of late, the subject was far too private for Jean to make Ororo want to bring it up. She wanted to but didn’t, and there was always tomorrow for that. Hopefully.