Author's note: Even if it's the only slash-fic I've ever written, it's still slash-fic. Of course it's going to be ridiculous. Enjoy.
Rogue brushed the last of the metal fragments off the front of her skin-tight battle costume and flicked the OFF switch—the Danger Room powered down, and shut off anything dangerous that wasn't already broken. She'd made quite a mess of the place. Parts of broken robots rattled and vibrated on the floor, and some fires needed to be put out.
As she left the Danger Room, she unzipped the top of her costume from her neck to just above her cleavage, trying to cool down a little.
"Who'm Ah kiddin'?" she muttered in her husky Southern accent; despite the way her huge breasts moved up and down, she was barely panting. "Ah hardly even broke a sweat, and that was the best the Danger Room could give me. Ah still got more energy than Ah know what to do with."
She didn't have to elaborate on why. She knew better than anyone else that she couldn't touch anyone for more than two seconds without risking the other person's life. It was no wonder she had more pent-up sexual energy than she could possibly channel into the Danger Room.
"Ah need a real workout," she murmured fiercely, then lowered her forehead into her hand. She'd intended it as a joke, but it was even truer than she had wanted to admit—and more than a little depressing. It looked like another night of crying on her vibrator's shoulder.
As she walked through the halls of the X-Men Mansion, thinking of a hot bath and her Nubby G, a sudden gasp caught her attention. Rogue automatically ducked for cover into a shadowy alcove in the hall, then shook her head at herself. The alcove rested just a few feet from Scott and Jean's bedroom door. The gasp, and more like it, were coming from behind it.
"Gawd-dammit, can't they at least wait until the rest of us are outta hearin'?" Rogue muttered. "It's only four o'clock in th' afternoon."
Behind the door, Jean gave a cry of ecstasy and Scott grunted with what sounded like the longest male orgasm on record, as if to answer her question, "No, as a matter of fact, we cannot wait. She is lithe and shapely, he is the picture of the ideal masculine physique, and to wait would simply be a waste of precious, bedspring-destroying time."
Rogue rolled her eyes and slumped against the wall. The sex noises, which were starting over again, were right. She figured she really should be happy for them, even if it made sense to be jealous, too. Hell, if she had someone she could touch, she'd be doing the same damn thing herself. Over and over and over. Like Scott and Jean.
She could still hear the two of them going at it. Jean was breathing in urgent gasps and sighs, as though her hot, wet genitalia were being licked, all the way from the bottom of her pink slit to her clitoris, again and again, Scott's tongue teasing her, inside and out ...
Rogue caught herself reaching between her legs, already fondling her breast with her other hand—then shrugged, and let herself continue. Why let them have all the fun? If they were going to broadcast their fucking, then they could live with the consequences. And so could Rogue.
Now she could hear both Jean and Scott moaning and grunting, like he was fucking her from behind, squeezing one of her generous breasts while Jean played with her clit. Yeah, that was what they were doing, Rogue decided, sliding her gloved hand inside her suit to tease her nipple and rubbing her crotch through her skintight costume. Scott probably had a long, thick erection that he was thrusting in and out of Jean's wet, red lips, and Jean's nipples must be hard and sensitive now, just like Rogue's, and Jean must be wailing that she was gonna come, gonna come ...
Rogue ground her teeth together, desperately trying not to echo Jean's orgasmic scream as her self-induced climax made her entire body spasm with pleasure.
"Lordy, that was quick," she panted. "Ah must really need it." Leaning back against the wall, she could see her chest heaving up and down, her costume's front zipper plunging dangerously low. As big as they were—even bigger than Jean's—her breasts were firm and perky, defying gravity almost as much as her ability to fly.
"It don't make sense," she grumbled. "Ah got a world-class rack like this, but Ah can't even let anyone touch it. Ah mean, what's the point?"
She was so caught up in her subsiding orgasm and in admiring her own body that she barely noticed that the noises from inside Scott and Jean's room had settled down.
The bedroom door abruptly opened, and Scott came swaggering out in a pair of hastily-donned jeans. Rogue shrank back into her alcove, hoping that the sex-fogged eyes behind his red glasses wouldn't catch her eavesdropping on him and Jean. She needn't have worried; Scott's slightly shaky legs carried him down the hall without a single look back.
"Nice ass on that man," she whispered, then gave herself a mental slap. If she was going to say things like that, she needed to get her own nice ass into her room, where she could act on her thoughts in privacy. She wasn't done, after all, and Scott's ass would be a good place to pick up from where she'd left off. In her own little world, maybe she could have him all to herself.
"Yeah, if Jean don't read mah mind about it," she muttered. Well, Jean had no reason to suspect, besides the obvious fact that Scott was gorgeous. Still, Jean was sitting less than ten feet away with only one wall between them, and Rogue wouldn't mind a little more space than that.
She pushed off from the wall and walked out of the alcove, pretending nothing had happened. She would just walk down the hall like normal, go straight to her own room, tear her clothes off before the door was even closed completely, forget the hot bath and start –
"Rogue? Is that you?"
Rogue was torn out of her thoughts and thrown back into the real world, looking up with a jerk that she knew would give her away. Scott had left the door open and Jean was sitting up in bed, sheet pulled up barely over her nipples.
"Oh, um. Hi, Jean," Rogue managed weakly.
"Rogue, you look so ... flustered," Jean said, almost playfully. "Is something wrong?"
"Ah was ..." Rogue trailed off. "Ah, shit. You read mah mind, didn't you?"
Jean laughed. "I barely had to, my friend."
"Ah'm sorry, Jean, Ah really am. I don't mean to -"
"Come in, we can talk about it."
Confusion passed over Rogue's face. "Um, okay." She timidly stepped into Jean's room, half wondering how mad Jean would be, and half wondering how soon she could get back to her own room and –
"Close the door," Jean said gently.
Rogue dutifully shut the door behind herself, still numb with embarrassment for being found out.
