So curiosity is going to kill this cat
who: booker and rogue what: booker takes some advice and applies it where: IDK When: July 8th Status: complete Rating: Very hard R for unfy times
Rogue wasn’t sure what led Booker to approach her like that. Usually he ran the other way when they talked …. well anything. Or they both got mopey and things went south from there. To every single friend of hers, she was so terribly attachment phobic it wasn’t even funny. But there were only two people she’d formed an attachment to that no matter what happened, or what they did, she probably couldn’t forget it.
Booker had met her long before her powers were way out of control. They’d had a fun time together then parted ways. Neither up for anything more than a little fun. Not too long after they crossed paths once more and now she couldn’t imagine him not living in the house and not being around. And not being there for her when she really needed him. She tried to be there for him, too. He was one of the two.
Tonight she wasn’t sure what was going on, so while she waited for him to come find her, she kicked back in the hammock, hands pillowing her head, as she stared up at the sky. She thought about her life here, and how it’d gone from thief on the streets to owning her own cafe. Maybe it was time to not be so damn scared of things.
Booker still wasn't sure if they were the kind of friends who could have benefits, or of there were feelings, or if Rogue even saw him as a potentially anything that wasn't the occasional cuddle.
Just don't say to his face that he was a cuddler, he'd shoot you.
But he was very attracted. Part of that was the forbidden fruit aspect, the threat of death, but part of that was also a respect for her and a genuine desire to see her have the contact she so obviously craved. And part of it was his own loneliness. He was just worried about ruining things. He was good at ruining things.
It was a little dark, so he flicked on his own personal power lighter as he approached her.
Rogue would call him a cuddler to his face and just smile instead of letting him shoot her. She’d shoot him back if he actually did. Rogue’s confrontational like that. But it was part of her charm. Rogue had feelings but she knew he was as anti-relationship as well anyone she knew. She didn’t want to push because he was likely to disappear on them. She rather liked him around.
But it was hard to deny the fact she craved even the most basic of contact. She’d long since accepted and embraced her abilities - they came in handy more times than not - but she wished that she was further along and able to control it better. She kept reminding herself the girl in her dreams had years to adjust and learn. She had only had a year and change. Can’t rush it.
She rolled her head sideways and smiled at him. “Found me.”
"Look comfy." Booker shifted on his feet, then gestured behind him towards an unidentified where. "If I'm bothering you I can leave."
As if they hadn't flirted dangerously before.
Rogue rolled her eyes in annoyance at him as she rolled out of the hammock. “Pretty sure I told you to come find me, so how can you be bothering me?” she gave him a look before smiling. “So curiosity is going to kill this cat. Spill.” she teased as she walked over to him.
Booker looked nervous and it drew her curiosity out and on high. “Mm?”
Booker reached into his pocket, pulling something out. It was some kind of glove. He pulled it onto his hand, then stroked his fingers against Rogue's cheek. It was warm and almost skin-like. "How's that feel?"
She stopped moving. As still as stone. Then almost melted into a puddle at the mere thought someone touched her and didn't get hurt. "Do it again" she said in a whisper.
"Got more of this where it came from," he assured her. His hand trailed down to her neck, then back up where his finger rubbed at her earlobe. "You can relax, don't gotta worry about concentrating." Maybe if she wasn't so afraid of herself all the time, she wouldn't have as much problems with control.
People underestimated how important touch, physical contact, was on a daily basis. Rogue did everything in her power to avoid it, even when covered, because she feared hurting people and feared the voices in her head. And it took a lot of mental gymnastics to get past that fear. But right now she couldn’t do more than just sigh. She’d cuddled with people, and hugged Lina and Cindy, but it had been quick and less personal than this. And this felt wonderful. As if she could actually feel his touch and not be zapping him. She was practically a puddle.
Maybe there were other materials that were better than this, but from the way Rogue was reacting, Booker though this would do for now. His hand wandered lower, caressing her shoulder and then her side, though still over her clothing. "Got all night. Got a...body suit you could put on. Same material." With easy access, but that's what the glove was for.
Booker tried to sound romantic. He mostly failed.
He failed but it was still music to her ears - they weren’t exactly the world’s most romantic people anyways. She opened her eyes to look at him and grinned. “Oh yeah?” she licked her lips after a moment and nodded. “Sounds like a good night to me.” she sounded more confident than she felt, she had no idea if this would work, but she was excited. It was plain to see just how much she craved being touched.
“If I tried to pick you up, I’d throw out my back.” Booker grimaced. “That ain’t a comment on your weight…” He pushed her against a tree, hand sliding down to her leg. “Or we could just stay here.”
She rolled her eyes at him then smirked as he pushed her against the tree. She rested against it, pushing her toes into the ground, eyes half closed. "We can stay here, I'm okay with that"
Booker brushed his fingers over Rogue’s lips. Honestly, he was nervous. He hadn’t really expected to even get this far. He worried he was taking advantage of her, but worse, he wasn’t sure he cared.
She figured out he wasn't sure he cared, she'd drop him down the nearest well. She didn't need that. Taken advantage of, sure she'd be pissed, but not end of world. Done so by someone she trusted and they don't care? She'd wreck him.
He just needed to actually hear it. Gloved fingers edged under her shirt. “You sure you okay with this?”
"Ain't like it's our first run, ya know." She sighed as his fingers slid under her shirt. "Yes, I'm fine with it. I'd tell you if I wasn't." She would too.
“Good.” His fingers were warm, her skin was warm, and he could almost forget there was still that material between them. The hardest part, actually, was that he couldn’t kiss her. Even as he tugged her shirt up, he found that bothered him a little.
She had her eyes closed, savoring the feeling of his fingers on her skin. She wiggled free of her shirt she let it fall to the ground. Rogue kind of was upset she couldn't get kissed, too. That would have just been icing on the cake.
One eye cracked open to glare at him. " You ask that one more time I will touch you." A snarky threat.
Laughing, Booker tossed Rogue’s bra into the hammock, his eyes focusing on her chest. “Fuck you’re gorgeous.” He punctuated the obvious statement by rubbing the palm of his gloved hand across one breast. Contrary to popular belief, Booker actually enjoyed foreplay.
Rogue sighed happily and arched her back, pressing her breast into his hand. She savored every moment because she never knew when it would stop or if it was a dream. Rogue hadn’t really let anyone touch her for a very long time. She craved the attention. “Hell yeah I am”. She didn’t let Logan kick her ass six ways to sunday for giggles, she had to work off living in her cafe somehow. Might as well look good doing it.
Booker grinned. He hooked his ungloved hand under Rogue’s butt and lifted her up, his other hand continuing its ministrations. He watched her face, torn between carrying her inside (where he’d left a bag filled with more of this liquid latex) or staying here until she forgot her own name.
Rogue, for her part, was thoroughly enjoying this. She couldn’t help the little sounds of pleasure escaping her lips, it had been a long time since anyone touched her in anyway that was intimate and she was going to be happy to forget her own name. She squeaked in surprise when he lifted her up but grinned a bit.
Using his left hand to massage her rear, Booker slipped his gloved hand into her pants. He teased her with his fingers, focusing more on her thighs and the skin between leg and pelvis. Booker just grinned at her.
Rogue squirmed, she couldn't help it, his teasing felt great and it was a feeling she hadn't had in a long time. She looked through her lashes at his grin and returned it with her own.
Deciding that he was done teasing, Booker slowly, painfully so, ran his finger around in a circle. He kept his eyes on Rogue’s face.
Fingers curled as he teased slowly, it was so slow she was practically ready to beg him to stop that and get down to business. But she didn’t, and her eyes half closed as she squirmed to try to make him give her what he teased. She hadn;t felt fingers on her in a long time and she was eager for more.
Booker liked her eagerness. He liked the way she squirmed and the little sounds that escaped from her throat and everything he did was to make her squirm and gasp more. Sure, he was pretty sure he’d be dead by Christmas, but this made it worth it.
He better not be dead by Christmas, she’d be devastated. But for now, she merely enjoyed the fact someone was touching her and not turning into a pile of comatose. Rogue stretched into his touch, fingers opening and closing as she tried to find both word and noise for what he was doing to her.
Rogue was a starved little thing.
“We ain’t even started,” He promised her, voice rough. His fingers cramped, but that was a minor inconvenience. “Got you a suit...Gonna…..do whatever you want me to do to you.”
Rogue focused again, which was entirely too hard with him distracting her, reached out and pulled his face to hers. “Shut up, just fuck me or make me forget my own name.” she fought her control long enough to pull him in for a kiss, letting it drop once she started feeling herself lose the control.
Booker carried Rogue inside, his hand still fervently working between her legs. “I’m workin’ on that!”
On the bed, or couch, or really whatever soft surface he found, he put her down on it and gasped out. “Bag, suit. Latex. Condom.” His arm was going to fall off but it was worth it. He slowed his hand, hoping she’d get the implication.
Because if she got the implication, then they were going to have a very good night.