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.
"Have a seat." Jean put a hand on the edge of the bed, indicating where she wanted her teammate. Rogue uneasily sank down next to Jean, maybe a bit closer than she meant to.
"Ah'm sorry, Jean," Rogue tried again. "It's just that –"
Jean smiled warmly. "Rogue, you don't have to be sorry. I understand completely. Scott's a handsome guy, and –" She put a comforting hand on Rogue's shoulder. "Well, I can't really imagine what it must be like for you, but I know it can't be easy."
Rogue nodded, a bit sullenly, but not as much as she expected. She'd always been too ashamed to talk about how difficult it was to neglect her sexuality, and it felt good to know that someone really understood. Even if she still couldn't bang that person.
"But," Jean continued, "the idea of going your whole life without touching someone–" Jean's hand slipped from Rogue's shoulder, and suddenly cupped her breast through the material of her costume. Her tone went from gentle to mischievous: "-isn't necessarily correct." Her other hand dropped the sheet to her waist, and joined her first in squeezing Rogue's pillowy globes.
Rogue looked down in confusion, first at Jean's hands, then at Jean's exposed breasts, then at ... Jean's breasts again.
"There are ways," Jean smiled. "I just wasn't sure if you'd want me to help you with them until now, and I was afraid to ask."
Rogue sat in stunned silence for an instant. She had to fight off the urge to kiss Jean then and there—Gawd bless her—but found that fondling Jean's full, firm breasts was almost as good. Gawd bless her gloves, too.
"You see?" Jean asked teasingly. "We just have to be ... careful."
Something touched Rogue deep between her legs, right where she needed it. She gasped in pleasure, and saw Jean's smile deepen as she telekinetically stroked Rogue's inner self again. Nothing but Jean's mind was inside her, but oh Gawd, it felt good, having her G-spot gently rubbed while Jean squeezed her breasts, pinching her nipples through her suit. Then her clitoris felt it too, the teasing and tickling that she would have been giving it herself if not for Jean. She barely had time to bite her lip against the mounting pleasure before everything else was drowned out by an explosive orgasm.
Rogue fell back on the bed, breathing harder than she wanted to admit.
"Jesus H. Christ, Jean," she panted, "Ah wish you'da told me you could do that years ago."
Jean climbed on top of Rogue's body and grinned seductively. "I'll make up for lost time."
A high-pitched tearing sound reached Rogue's ears, and she felt the crotch of her costume split open to reveal her slick labia. She looked up at Jean, her expression asking the question that her mind didn't want to. "Jean?"
"Don't worry, Rogue. I told you there are ways." A drawer in the nightstand by the bed slid open, and a pair of latex gloves levitated out of it and onto Jean's long, slender hands. "I've wanted to do this with you for so long, I just couldn't let myself get caught unprepared when I got the chance."
Rogue gasped again as she felt Jean's fingers begin gently stroking her inflamed lips—just trailing over her pubic hair, then probing the entrance to her pleasure, then gently deeper between her labia, and deeper again, until Jean was feeling her way around inside Rogue's body, two fingers stroking her G-spot while the thumb traced wet circles around her engorged clit. Rogue's eyes squeezed shut as the waves of pleasure pouring through her body intensified yet again.
