Title: Voyeur

 

Author: m.jules

 

Rating: R…or NC-17.

Disclaimer: (courtesy of Logan, Wolverine #50)  “Gonna sue me?  I’m warnin’ ya – my lawyer’s a psychotic mutant.  Hrmph.  Is that a redundancy or what?”  (Marvel & Kids’ WB.)

Summary: Rogue’s still only sixteen – but Kitty witnesses how much Logan wants Rogue to grow up.  Sequel to “Sin,” second part in the “Sixteen” trilogy.

 

Author’s Notes: (not entirely fic-related) I’ve noticed something – the Evolution series is unique among X-Men ‘verses in a lot of ways… not the least of which is the change in Logan’s character.  Not only does he not hit on Jean Grey, but he doesn’t hit on women at all, seemingly.  (Unless you count his borderline flirtations with Rogue, but even that isn’t flirting.  It’s something… deeper.  More like true friendship.)  This makes it very difficult to give him a sexually active thought life… *laughs*  But since when do I back away from a Logan-challenge?

Thanks to Terri for helping out with that, btw.  Her Logan-scene in “Solitaire” was very…um…helpful.  *shivers* Thanks also to Karen, for the markered-gloves bunny, although it mutated… (EvoLoganMuse refused to have Playboy in his room.  Said something that sounded suspiciously like, “Only guys who can’t get any buy those.”)


This is for Taryn, because I bribed her with it.  ;)

 

xXxXxXx

 

Voyeur

 

“Ah thought sixteen was tha fantasy age.”

 

Logan growled softly, hearing her words echo through his mind for what seemed like the millionth time since she’d left to go back to her room a few hours ago.  He was still hard, smelling her scent on himself and feeling the ghost of her caresses.  Having her voice repeating in his mind wasn’t helping matters.

 

“Fantasy, yes” he’d told her.  Hell yes.

 

As much as he hated himself for it, the sassy little Rogue made regular appearances in his fantasy life.  He tried to block them from his mind, tried to convince himself he didn’t think of her that way… but now, after her blatant statement of interest in him – “Ah’ve always wanted you, Logan” – he felt like it was a little more acceptable.

 

He dropped the leather bustier he’d been holding and took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control before he went out into the hall, just in case some of the kids were around.  He didn’t need anybody noticing what a state he was in.

 

Heaving a great sigh, he put on his best “Get outta my fuckin’ way” face and stormed into the hall.  With his perma-scowl firmly in place, he silently made the rounds through the student wing.  As he turned down the hall to the girls’ rooms, he told himself it was just to make sure none of the students were getting into any Halloween trouble.  He rounded the corner just in time to see Kitty phase through a closed door straight into the room she shared with Rogue and before he could argue with himself about it, he was standing right outside, listening in.

 

“Roguey!  Look what I found in Kurt’s room!  He’d like, be so totally busted if anybody knew he had this!”

“What were you doin’ in Kurt’s room, anyway?” Rogue returned, and Logan heard the creak of the mattress as she settled onto the bed closest to the door – Kitty’s, if Logan remembered correctly.

 

“Just sneakin’ around and stuff… you know, to see if he had anything I could pick on him about.”

Kitty’s confession was followed by conspiratorial giggles and the sound of pages turning.

 

“Wow,” Kitty said softly a moment later. 

 

Rogue made a harrumphing sound and commented, “Those are definitely fake.  No way any gal could look lahk that.”

 

“Totally,” Kitty agreed, but Logan could still hear a wavering uncertainty in her voice.  “But, like, how do they get those pictures if they’re… not real?”

 

“They airbrush ‘em.  Ah mean, you could make anybody fit onto that picture.”  The bed squeaked and Logan heard a drawer open and shut.  “Here – Ah’ll show ya.”  There was the sound of liquid shaking in a small bottle.  “Miss Bambi here is about ta get a new stage name.”  There was the soft sound of a brush on paper – Logan sniffed once, immediately identifying the pungent odor of white out – and Kitty giggled.

 

“Oh, that’s so totally you, chica!”  The scraping sound of plastic against plastic, and Logan smelled permanent marker.  “But she’s still missing a little something…”

This time Rogue giggled, and Logan thought the sound oddly suited her.  “Oh raght… Ah forgot about tha gloves.”

The gloves.  Logan closed his eyes, remembering the way the silk had felt rasping over his throat, down his spine… imagining the way they’d feel, cool and almost liquid, on other parts of his body.  He growled softly and stalked away, forgetting to make his footsteps silent…forgetting he didn’t want her to know.

 

***

“Oh no, we’re like, totally busted!”

 

“Calm down, Kitty.  He was runnin’ away, not comin’ ta get us.”  Rogue sat up on the bed, crossing her arms and blowing her bangs out of her face.  “Seems lahk he’s always runnin’ away, lately.”

 

Kitty’s eyes went wide and she regarded Rogue carefully.  “Don’t tell me you’re, like, seriously crushing on Mr. Logan?”

 

“Ah don’t get crushes,” Rogue muttered.

 

“That’s just, like, so totally weird, girl.  He’s – you know – Mr. Logan!”

Grinning wickedly, Rogue glanced at her roommate.  “Take tha ‘mister’ off when ya think about him once in awhile, Kit-kat.  Then it won’t seem quite so weird to ya.”  With that, she stood up, screwing the top back on the bottle of liquid paper and tossing it to Kitty.  “Remember to tear that page out before ya give tha magazine back to Kurt, awl raght?  I don’t need tha mental image of Fuzzball jerkin’ off ta somethin’ that looks lahk me.”

“You got it, girl,” Kitty promised, beginning to pull out the modified centerfold even as Rogue disappeared into the bathroom.  When the door was closed, Kitty let a mischievous smile spread across her face.  Kurt might not ever get to see what white out and a black permanent marker could do to a Playmate, but somebody else was about to.  After all, what were roommates for?

***

The door to Logan’s room was closed, but Kitty had dropped into the garage – literally – before she’d sneaked into the teacher’s wing, just to make sure she wouldn’t get caught.  Sure enough, Ororo’s car was still gone, and Hank and the Professor were with her.  The other vehicle she’d been looking for was missing too – Logan’s motorcycle.

 

Quickly, she phased through the door, the Rogue-esque centerfold still clutched in her hand.  She didn’t stop to think about the total weirdness of trying to set up her roommate and her teacher – Ugh, don’t go there, Kitty – she just concentrated on getting the job done.  She carefully placed the torn-out page on the bed and was just about to leave when she suddenly was assaulted by the lack of noise.

 

It hadn’t occurred to her when she’d first stepped in that the shower had been running.  She’d been so freaked out by her ‘mission’ that she hadn’t even noticed the sound until it shut off.  The realization of what that meant hit her hard and she barely had time to phase through the bed to the floor beneath before the bathroom door opened.  She was wracking her brain, trying to remember what was just below Logan’s room – and if she could safely phase through the floor – when she caught sight of his reflection in the full length mirror on the wall across from the bathroom.

 

The glass was slightly steamed from his shower, but it was clear enough that she could make out the outline of his naked body.  At first she squeezed her eyes shut, disgusted, but Rogue’s words echoed in her mind.  “Take tha ‘mister’ off… then it won’t seem so weird to ya.”  Resolutely pushing the thought of him as a teacher out of her head, she opened her eyes again, focusing on the clearing mirror just in time to see him turn back towards the bathroom to toss in the towel he’d been using to dry his hair.

 

The sight of his broad back and naked ass made her breath catch, and he paused.  Cursing herself and his enhanced hearing, Kitty did her best to make her breathing shallow and silent, feeling the heat rush to her face as he did a full three-sixty, sniffing the air.

 

“Half-pint,” he rumbled, and Kitty pressed her face in the floor, knowing she was about to get busted, with a capital B.

 

He turned toward the bed – she couldn’t resist watching him in the mirror – and stopped immediately, his eyes focusing sharply on – The centerfold!  Thank God!

 

He picked it up, his nostrils flaring sharply, and took a tentative sniff.  “Hmph,” he smirked.  “Special delivery.”  His chuckle faded into a soft growl, and Kitty blushed as she watched his – body – begin to react to the picture. 

 

Geez, girl, you’re never gonna get laid if you can’t even say the word in your head.  C’mon, Kitty, it’s just a… a … penis.  There.  You said it.  Sort of.

 

“God,” he growled, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before they snapped back open, devouring the picture in front of him.  He was, by this time, almost fully erect, and even Kitty knew enough to know he must have been thinking some really good thoughts for it to happen that quickly.

 

He put the picture down and walked around the bed toward the dresser on the other side, but stopped before he could take out any clothes.  Directly in front of the mirror, he glanced down at the centerfold again.  One hand slid down his body to touch himself lightly as the other reached out, tracing the picture.  Kitty wondered absently if he was touching the painted-on white streak in the model’s hair, or the markered-on gloves.  Or something else.  She felt her face get even hotter – she hadn’t really thought that was possible – and focused on the image in the mirror again.

 

Like that’s going to help with the blushing factor, she thought to herself.

 

His hand was sliding up and down his shaft, his fingers curled around the skin in a very loose grip, a feathering touch, really.  His eyes remained focused on the picture on the bed, and Kitty shivered at the look on his face.  It was feral, intense – and getting moreso by the second.

 

His hips began to move slightly, and she found herself fascinated by the grace evident even in that movement.  She’d often admired his agility while fighting, but this… she’d never thought of sex – especially not sex with oneself – as anything aesthetically pleasing.  Always in her mind, it had seemed like it would be something rather clumsy… the title of a Sarah McLachlan album flashed through her mind, and she smiled.  Fumbling towards ecstasy.

 

But nothing about Logan’s movements were in the least unsure or anything less than fluid.  The shifting of taut muscles beneath smooth skin in his back and ass provided the effortless motion of his slim hips as he thrust into his own hand, soft grunts beginning to work their way out of his broad chest.

 

He was breathing harshly now, tiny growls being forced from his throat as his eyes narrowed, still focused on the would-be Rogue centerfold.  He bared his teeth, a low rumbling sound filling the room as he finally broke his gaze, tossing his head back and snarling “Rogue!” as his hips jerked sharply with erratic grace, white fluid covering his hand and spattering onto the bedspread.  Logan collapsed onto the bed heavily, still clutching the centerfold in his hand.

 

Kitty found herself wondering if the picture had escaped unscathed, and then closed her eyes tightly against the thought.  Watching her teacher get himself off was pushing her to her limits as it was.  She totally did not need to be thinking about the picture – of her roommate, nonetheless – that had provided the fantasy fodder for said teacher.

 

In her embarrassment, she managed to phase just her head through the floor to the room below – the laundry room – and never was she so grateful to see a pile of dirty uniforms lying right below her than she was at that moment.  Taking a deep breath and squeezing her eyes shut, she dropped through the ceiling of the laundry room and landed with a muffled “Umph!” in a tangle of black and yellow lycra.

 

Brushing herself off, she pressed her cool hands to her flaming cheeks and scrambled out of the room, looking for something to get her mind off the scene it insisted on replaying.

 

She ducked into the rec room, hoping no one would notice her unusually high color, and nearly jumped out of her skin when Nightcrawler appeared before her in a flash of sulfur and smoke.  He waved and bamf!d away before she had a chance to say anything.

 

“Kurt!” she squeaked, stumbling backwards and phasing through the couple standing there.  “Sorry,” she apologized with a shaky smile before she moved over to the table where the heavily spiked punch sat surrounded by empty candy wrappers and discarded popsicle sticks from the candy and caramel apples.

A few minutes later, Rogue traipsed into the room with a wicked grin on her face, a skimpy black bra having replaced her missing bustier to complete her Sin costume.  Most eyes in the room turned to her – the girls mostly because they wanted to see what their boyfriends were suddenly entranced by, although some had reasons of their own – and she held up a mostly-full bottle of vodka.

 

“Ah heard the punch needed a little… pick-me-up,” she purred as she poured well over half the contents into the punchbowl. 

 

“All right!” chorused a few of the boys, attempting to high-five each other.  Rogue only rolled her eyes at their failed attempts.  They’d had too much to drink already, it was obvious, but the way she saw it, they weren’t going to stop drinking until they passed out anyway, so she might as well do her part to hurry that along.

 

“What’s goin’ on in here?” came a forbidding growl, and the room immediately fell silent except for the sounds of objects being hidden and clothing being adjusted with the speed of light.

 

“Ah was jus’ confiscatin’ the liquor, Sugah,” Rogue drawled, her eyes sparkling as she held up the nearly-empty bottle and sloshed the liquid around inside. 

 

“Hmph,” Logan snarled, marching over and snatching the bottle from her hand.  “Gimme that.”

 

“You plannin’ on sharin’, Sugah, or are you bein’ a bad boy tanight?”

 

Eyes went wide all over the room as they watched Rogue bait the one person in the mansion you just didn’t tease.  Logan’s eyes raked over her form, heat flaring at the sight of what had taken the place of the lace-up leather bustier he had in his room.  “You seen my bike?” he growled.

 

“Nope.  But Ah ain’t seen Jubilee tanight either,” Rogue shrugged.

He grunted, turning on his heel and storming out of the room without saying another word.

 

Slowly, activity among the party-goers went back to normal, with only Rogue standing stock still in the middle of the room, staring at the empty hall where Logan had disappeared with a smoldering gaze.  Eventually, she flicked her eyes over the crowd, coming to rest on the bright pink face of her roommate and partner-in-crime.

 

Rogue worked her way through the crowd, snatching someone’s cup of punch-flavored alcohol out of their hand, and coming to stand close to Kitty.  Leaning over so she could be heard above the din of the crowd without having everyone else eavesdrop, she chuckled, “Ah told ya takin’ the ‘mister’ off would make a diff’rence, didn’t Ah?”

 

Blushing furiously, Kitty could only nod, biting her lip as her eyes involuntarily flickered to the empty doorway.  “Yeah, I like, totally see what you mean,” she confided.  “Totally.”

 

***

 

THE END

 

 

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