Title: Sin

Author: m.jules

Rating: R

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  Marvel and Kids’ WB.

Feedback: Yes, please, but if you read this despite the squick warning, don’t flame.  You were warned ahead of time.

Archive: DDFH, anybody else who has anything else I’ve written.  Otherwise, ask.  (I don’t particularly want this to be the only example of my work you have on your site!  *laughs*)

Author’s Notes: I’m having a bad day.  I know that reflected in the dark tone of the fic – my apologies.  Also, some people might get squicked out—I’m just warning you—because age does happen to be an issue here.  I just felt like writing something illicit.  (I told you I was having a bad day.)  This is for the Halloween theme week at DDFH.

This is Evoverse, in which Rogue has been fifteen for the past three seasons (so I figured I’d be a little realistic and grow her up) but has always been more mature than anyone else her age.  She’s also much, much darker there and I needed that to play with in this fic.  If you want any more information on Evolution ‘verse, Karen’s story Sensual Interlude has a great little FYI section.

Squick Warning: I’m just reiterating what I said in the author’s notes in case you happened to skip that.  Age is an issue here.  It’s illicit, because I felt like writing it that way.  I’m just in a dark mood, so here’s a dark fic.  Read at your own risk.

***

 

Her mouth was warm and sticky against his face, the skin clinging just a little too long after she’d let go.  He was a little surprised that he hadn’t felt the pull, but smelled the sharply sweet scent of pure sugar and knew why.  He looked over her shoulder to the mirror, raising an eyebrow at the bright red kiss she’d left high on his cheekbone.  Candy apple red.

 

“You been inta the treats downstairs?” he asked her gruffly, pushing her away from him a little bit with hands lightly on her hips.  She pouted prettily at him, her body slumping into a semi-seductive sway as she reached out with hands encased in black silk gloves and touched his chest.  He shuddered despite himself.  “What’re you supposed to be, anyway?”

 

Her eyes met his flirtatiously.  “Ah’m Sin, sugah.  Or can’t ya tell?” she drawled, dragging the tip of one finger up over his throat and flicking his chin.  “And Ah heard the treats upstaihrs were bettah.”

 

“Rogue,” he growled warningly, his pulling back from her subtly, stiffly.  Her “costume” was more fitting than he would have liked, he realized.  Sin in black leather.  Yep, that just about covered it.

 

“What is it, sugah?” she purred, her eyes bright and her voice thick.  “Dontcha want me?”

 

“Rogue, you’re drunk,” he pointed out. 

 

“That’s not an answer, handsome,” she smirked, leaning into him once more, pressing her body against him.  He was trying not to look at her – trying not to notice the tight, lace-up leather bustier she wore under a sheer black shirt or the obscenely short black leather skirt that, along with the knee-high stiletto boots, served to show off entirely too much finely toned leg beneath fishnet hose.

“It’s all the answer you’re gonna get tonight,” he insisted, finally finding enough self control to put her at arm’s distance from himself and take a step back.

 

Her eyes flashed dangerously and she reached under her sheer top, tugging at the laces of the bustier. 

“Rogue, what are you doing?”

 

“Ah thought that was fairly obvious, lover.”  He shivered at the tone of her voice – somewhere along the line, it had taken on a threatening lilt… one that promised danger and possibly physical harm if she wasn’t taken seriously.

 

“Rogue, you can’t – we can’t –”  He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say to her.  They couldn’t what? 

 

“What can’t we do, sugah?” she taunted breathily in an eerie echo of his own thought.  “Can’t get caught by the professah?  Ah don’t think that’s a problem tanight.  And nobody else is gonna come lookin’ for us… they’re all too busy tryin’ not to be caught themselves.”

By the time her speech was made, the bustier had been unlaced and dropped to the floor, leaving her small, high breasts bared to his gaze beneath the gauzy top she wore.  He closed his eyes and bit back a groan, breathing harshly through his nose. 

She’s sixteen, he told himself.  She’s fucking sixteen.  He wasn’t one of those depraved individuals who got off on statutory rape… but she was making that more and more difficult to remember.  “Sixteen,” he mouthed to himself.

 

“Ah’m seventeen,” she whispered, right beside his ear, and he jumped.  He hadn’t heard her, hadn’t sensed her, move that close to him and that only told him exactly how far into hell his mind had been shot.

 

“You’re too young,” he whispered back, feeling his breath bounce back off her skin to hit him in the face. 

 

“Ah’m legal,” she argued, and his eyes snapped open.

 

“Don’t fuck with me, Rogue,” he growled, and saw her eyes widen momentarily with surprise before taking on a bright gleam of pleasure.

 

“Ya’ve never talked ta me like that before,” she purred.  “Ah like it.”

 

“Like what?” he snarled.

 

“Dirty,” she whispered, rubbing her body against his, catlike.

 

“I’m not talkin’ dirty to you,” he threw back.  His hands went to her waist to still her movements, but ended up sliding around her back, caressing her through the shirt.

 

“Maybe ya should,” she suggested, arching an eyebrow and reaching around to move his hand down until it cupped her ass.  “Ah want ya to.”

 

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he panted as she began rocking her hips against him and he felt his traitorous body responding to her.  He knew he was trying to convince himself more than anything.  She’s not in her right mind.  She doesn’t want this.  She doesn’t want me.

 

He expected her to be indignant – he hoped she would be.  Hoped she would flare up with childish anger and he would remember how young she really was.  But she only chuckled and bit his collarbone through his t-shirt, making his hand tighten convulsively on her leather-clad ass.

 

“Ah think you’d be surprised at just how much Ah do know,” she whispered.  “Why don’t you try me and find out?”

 

“Rogue…”  His growl was low, dangerous; and the warning it contained was clear.  That same growl had sent grown men cowering to their corner and frightened off the most insistent of unwanted barflies.  Rogue just shivered with delight, and he smelled her arousal kick up a couple of notches.

 

“Come on, lovah,” she purred, slipping her gloved hands into the collar of his t-shirt and sliding them down his spine, pulling him closer to her.  “Ah want ya.  Ah’ve wanted ya evah since Ah can remembah.”  She shifted her stance so that her legs were apart and he took her invitation despite himself, pushing a denim-clad thigh between them.  She purred with satisfaction and began rubbing herself against him, her breasts crushed against his chest as she whispered, “Ah joined tha team for you.”

 

“I thought you joined for Scott,” he growled, his hands gripping her sides in a rough massage.

 

“He’d asked me to join a dozen times before you did, Logan,” she pointed out.  “Ah came fer you.”  She nuzzled his breastbone through his t-shirt, nipping lightly at him.  “Even when Ah still thought Ah loved Scott, Ah wanted you.”

 

He gripped her shoulders and pulled her up roughly, shaking her a little as he pushed her back from him.  “I don’t want you to fuck me,” he snarled. 

For the first time since she’d swayed through his door, her lips coated with bright red candy and her breath smelling like sugar and apples, he saw the darkness in her eyes soften for a moment, a tender light creeping in.

 

“Ah know,” she whispered.  “Ya want me to love ya.”  He was startled, both at her bluntness and her accuracy.  “Ah’ve always known that about ya – nobody else does.  Ya don’t let them see that part of you that wants love.”  He didn’t confirm her observation – he didn’t have to.  “Ah see it,” she smiled. 

 

He closed his eyes, breathing hard.  His hands on her arms loosened and she moved back into his body, this time wrapping her arms around his waist and cradling her head on his chest.  Her hands skipped up and down his back in a soothing rhythm and he found himself returning her embrace, pressing his cheek to her hair.

 

The moment of tenderness gave him the space he needed to get his body back under control and he sighed with resignation.  She felt the change in his body and pressed her face into his shirt.

“You’re not gonna, are ya?” she asked, and though her voice was muffled by his chest, he heard the intense disappointment in it.

“No, I’m not,” he sighed, tucking her in more closely to him.  “As much as I want to, I’m not.”

 

“Why not?” she asked, tilting her head back to look up at him, and he was surprised to see her dark makeup smudged with small tears.  He reached up to wipe the smudge away, but she flinched, seeing the bare skin.  He sighed, letting his fingers instead rest in her auburn-and-silver hair.

 

“Because you’re sixteen.”

 

“Ah’m --”  She started to deny it again but then gave him a guilty smile and ducked her head.  “Ah thought sixteen was the fantasy age,” she teased him, glancing up from under her dark lashes.

 

He shook his head.  “Fantasy, yes,” he admitted.  “But not more.  Not yet.”

 

Hope flared white-hot in her eyes and she pressed him to her.  “But someday?”

 

“Someday,” he conceded, leaning down to brush her lips with his.  Her mouth was still coated with the sticky candy, blocking the transfer, and he pressed into it firmly before pulling back. 

“Ah can live with someday,” she decided, her eyes shining.  “G’night, Logan,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss the hair above his ears.  He grumbled with mock annoyance, knowing she’d left the sticky residue there, but couldn’t resist a swat to her ass as she moved out of his arms.

 

“Good night, Rogue,” he told her roughly as she headed for the door.  A smirk tugged at his lips as he watched the sway of her breasts beneath her sheer top, wondering if she would realize she’d left her bustier behind.  He got his answer when she paused at the door to wink at him over her shoulder.

 

“You can keep it,” she told him saucily, her gaze flickering to the garment on his floor for a moment.  Then she was gone, and his chuckle turned into a sigh as he reached down to adjust himself before striding across the room to close his door.  He picked up the bustier on his way, and leaned against the closed door, holding the leather to his face and inhaling deeply.  He groaned softly, his tongue flickering out over his lips, searching for the taste of sugar…and of Rogue.

 

Someday, he’d promised her.  Someday.