Exercise Ch. 07


The inside had been transformed into a fairly plain dojo, blue mats on the floor and a huge full-length mirror that spanned the width of the far wall. She nearly stumbled over a mat as she entered and instinctively tried to fly, but oddly enough, she didn't take off. Instead, she flailed her arms wildly while Gambit paused, his boxers half off, and cleared his throat, watching her attempt to keep from falling with amusement and desire.

"What the hell is this, Remy?" she demanded when she had regained her balance. "Why can't I fly? Is this supposed to be romantic or …"

He let the boxers fall the rest of the way down his legs and reached for her. Alarmed, she leaped back and came up short. What was wrong with her? He stalked her to the wall as she backed away, nerves jumping in her stomach.

"What's goin' on?" she tried, hands out as her naked lover came within touch range. She registered that indeed, his poster had him in perfect proportion as his right hand drew close to her face.

"Trust Gambit, chere. Five ways, remember?" His red eyes were less bright, but his gaze was intense as his fingers lightly brushed her skin.

Nothing happened. She blinked. "What?"

He moved to draw her against his body, his usual mischievous expression returning. She felt his incredible warmth close to her and couldn't stop a sigh, part nervous and part longing to hold him, feel his cock against her skin. "No powers," he whispered as he pulled her against his warm, muscular frame.

Heat blossomed as their lips met for their first real kiss. Rogue gradually realized what he'd said. No powers. Normally, she had to restrain herself from embracing her friends with her full strength. Now, she was hot and half-naked with a very, very impressively nude man pressed against her, her hands roaming his back as she pushed ever closer, and he wasn't hurt at all.

Well. If she'd known the Danger Room could do this, she'd have come down here with him months ago. She did wish, faintly, in the back of her mind where rational thought was dwindling fast, that he'd told her about his scheme before he got her in there so she wouldn't have tried to fly… Most of her focus, however, was on holding and stroking and feeling the delightful sensation of skin on hers that wasn't her own.

As if through a fog, she became aware that Remy was trying to pull free. She moaned in protest and tried to keep her hold on him, but he was … stronger? How could he be … oh, right. No powers. "Remy…"

He was intensely proud of himself. "Chere, how 'bout we get that shirt off?"

She had forgotten the sweatshirt she still wore in her passion to caress him, all of him. Impatiently, she tugged it off and puffed a quick breath at the curl of hair that swept down over her right eye in its wake.


Dieu. She was beautiful. The pictures, the images were nothing compared to the real thing. He stared, for the few seconds she permitted it, enjoying the curve of her waist into her hips, the perfectly rounded breasts. Then she flung herself at him again and pressed as close as she could, like she wanted to be inside him.

Course, he wanted to be inside her. The near constant ache in his groin had been torment for the past several days, though he'd gotten a little relief from his passionate dream about Emma Frost, waking in a warm, relaxed state with sticky semen all over his stomach and thighs. It hadn't been near enough, naturally, and the visits to Rogue's bedroom, then the bathroom, had only aggravated things. He regretted instantly his penchant for teasing Hank and Kurt about having blue balls…although he had not told them so yet, and might never do so.

Her hands were drawing him down to the mat. Her green eyes were deep and dark, and they weren't looking into his by a long shot. He smirked, enjoying the attention. "Penny for your thoughts, chere."

She dropped her arms to her sides and parted her legs. "Come inside me."

His body was very happy to hear that. He felt his balls tighten as he tried to suppress his desire to thrust into her, just fuck her now… "You sure you ready?" he asked, bending over and stealing a kiss.

She accepted his caress but trailed her hand down his torso and circled his cock without touching it. He froze and pulled back a little. He had to think about something that wasn't sexy. Blob in a thong. Yes. Blob in a thong. And Rogue had worked with Mystique, who worked with Blob. Damn.

She smiled slowly, seductively. "We've had five days of foreplay," she pointed out, withdrawing her hand slowly to a sudden cry of disappointment.

His cry of disappointment.

Merde. He was not a boy anymore. He was not going to let go before he'd even entered her. He closed his eyes and quickly bit the inside of his right cheek hard.

Good. The tension released a little, though now his testicles were on fire. He could punch through a whole forest with his erection.

Rogue was tugging at his hips, pulling him closer. With a sigh, he rubbed up against her. Ohhhhh. She was soaking wet and hot, and the friction was wonderful. He teased her with another slow stroke against her moist body and got a growl of frustration. "Inside. Now." The words were harsh, but her tone was desperate.

Witty response. Must come up with a witty response. He softly sought out her vaginal entrance as he thought. "Happy to … help the lady," he panted as he moved a short way inside her.

She threw her head back and groaned, "More."

To hell with witty responses. Time to get down to the business of pleasure. He pushed into her body, enveloped by her warm wet tunnel, and added his own muttered epithets and exclamations to hers. His last remnant of thought whispered (she must not use her biggest toys very often) before it departed.

Now, all was burning desire, delightful friction against the head of his penis, pushing and pulling, murmurs breaking the silence, and the need to climax. Her face, mouth open, gasping as he moved inside, beautiful. Pressure building inside as his testicles retreated further into his body. A tighter grip on his aching cock as she clutched him close and rose against him. Good. Good. Almost unbearable burning as she relaxed and he continued his forward motion, needing more, the unmistakable feeling of orgasm building within.

The tension broke in an almost unbearable feeling of relief. He cried out in pleasure, overwhelmed by the intense wave rippling through him, plunging into Rogue by reflex as she watched him from beneath, eyes wide, covered in sweat.

He collapsed, still shuddering, onto her hot body. She clasped her arms around him as he, shaken, tried to slow his breathing to a normal level.

"Wow," she said quietly.

"You ain't … kiddin'." He rested his head on her shoulder. She rubbed her cheek against his hair.

"So, when will you be up for round two?"

Remy groaned. He heard the weariness in her voice, but decided to treat her question seriously. "Gotta at least take five on this, ma chere."

She tried to sound disappointed. "But the rumors say you can go for hours and not get tired."

He snorted and chuckled weakly. "Rumors say no one can do what Remy just do wit' you too, chere."

She sighed and held him tight. "I guess I can wait. For now."


Jubilee went to her room and waited a few minutes for Remy and Rogue to get out of the way before she went back down to the den and popped the tape back into the VCR. She wanted to see how much of the couple's antics she'd gotten recorded. The tape whirred for a few seconds, then stopped.

She frowned. She had been recording them. She pushed play and waited, then let out a frustrated scream.


Fifteen minutes after Remy and Rogue entered the Danger Room, Bobby Drake emerged from his room flashing a huge wad of cash and inviting everyone he saw to come out to brunch with him. "Won big in an … investment in our favorite X-men," he grinned. No one so far had taken him up on his offer, so he started checking out the more obscure locations in the mansion.

He heard a choked sob as he walked by the den, so he leaned back to see what was going on. Jubilee was on the floor, in tears, surrounded by videotapes. She held two in her hands as her head rolled down to her chest and she wailed.

Without thinking, he pocketed the money and knelt down before her, taking a tape and tipping up her chin with it. "Hey, bright eyes," he said gently. "What's wrong? Can't find that subtitled version of 'Seven Samurai' that Wolverine taped?"

Oddly enough, she flashed him a quick suspicious look before crumpling into his arms and crying on him. He embraced her, confused, and looked at the tape in his hand. "Come on," he tried, "what's so bad about 'Elmo Takes Over The Sesame Street Franchise'?"

She giggled and gasped, starting a coughing frenzy that alarmed him. He patted her back helplessly and sighed. "Sorry."

Hiccuping, she looked up at him, small and lost. "You didn't (hic) take it (hic), did you?"

"No, no." He waved the Sesame Street video in his hand in front of her. "It's right here."

Her expression became exasperated, which at least was more normal when she interacted with him, and her voice took on a sarcastic tone. "No. The Remy and (hic) Rogue tape!"

"It's missing?" Bobby didn't even have time to think about it before the idea hit him. Hank. Hank must have taken it. Jamie and Rahne weren't the type, and neither was Scott. Kitty might have, but she'd also have told Jubilee that she did. No, it had to be Hank, because Bobby hadn't taken it himself.

He plastered an "Isn't that interesting?" expression on his face, but the shrewd look in Jubilee's shining eyes told him she'd seen his reaction to the news. "Bobby, give. Who took it?"

He tried to be kind of honest. "I don't really know." Yet. "It's just an idea." A pretty certain idea. "Tell you what. Let me take you out to brunch with what I won on the Remy/Rogue investment I made, and then we'll do some investigating later."

Her eyes lit up, but then her face fell and she turned away from him, looking down at the scattered tapes on the carpet. "You're just asking me so I won't find out who took it."

He sighed. He wasn't good with serious stuff, but he sensed it was time to stop fooling around. "Well, partly I was, yeah." He walked around her, but she kept turning away. "Come on. Give me a chance." He seized both her shoulders and pulled her toward him, keeping his grip loose enough that she could get away if she wanted to. She moved forward, toward him, but kept her eyes on the floor. He carefully used one finger to tilt her head up so she would see him. "That's better."

"Is it?" She looked defeated, unhappy.

He smiled and nodded. "You do have bright eyes. I wished I could have seen them when we were watching, earlier."

She blushed, a cute reddening of her upper cheeks, and glanced at his right shoulder. "I liked … sitting with you."

"So will you come with me? It's not every day I ask someone to go with me on a date, you know, and I don't handle rejection well." He made what Kitty called his "sad puppy face" and Jubilee's lower lip started quivering, trying to hold back laughter. Encouraged, he continued. "You know, the late nights singing outside your door, and I don't sing very well or know very many songs, and the flowers showing up all hours of the day, and …"

She laughed, a quick blast of amusement that warmed his heart, and then grew solemn again. "Do you really mean it, Bobby?"

Again, it was time to lay off the humor. He nodded and smiled. "Hey. I don't do things on purpose to hurt people, and asking you out without meaning it would hurt you. Besides, we always have fun together, right?"

She bent her head and looked at the chair by the door, the chair they'd been in earlier, and shot a glance up at him. "You always know how to make me laugh, Bobby."

He bowed. "Just call me the Houngan of Humor." She frowned in confusion and he shrugged. "So, are you going to be my date, or what?"

"Yes." Her response was quick and decisive, quite surprising Bobby, who was prepared to threaten her with a tickle fight or more dishwashing duty if she didn't accept him, but was not prepared for immediate compliance with his wishes. Floored, caught off balance, he noticed she was quite close and had actually said yes, so he wrapped his right arm behind her back and bent over for a kiss.

She responded with the same aggression as her declaration that she wanted to be his date, teasing him - HIM, the Ultimate Tease - with short darts of her tongue into his mouth. Not that he was complaining. Oh, no. Bobby'd had enough bad experiences with women to know a good thing when he felt it. He pressed her against his body and she wriggled against him, just as she had earlier. He briefly wondered if she'd meant to rub against him in the chair or if it was all unconscious, then enjoyed the warmth and closeness of her caresses.

He put her down after a few minutes for several reasons, trying to ignore some of them (Logan's reaction, his own growing excitement, the public area they were in) and focus on others (people might be waiting to go eat, check on Hank about the tape). "Wow." He bowed to her. "I am in your debt, my lady." She stood swaying a little, her right hand at her lips, a little red and breathless. "Ten minutes, in the garage." He pointed his index finger at her playfully. "Be there."


Oh, my God. Bobby was an EXCELLENT kisser. Jubilee stayed in the den, a bit off-balance herself, and brushed her fingers over her lips, remembering the sensation. Then she shrieked and ran to her room. She had only ten minutes to get her boring old jeans off and get a cool outfit together for her date!

Quietly, without fanfare or notice, her old crush on Wolverine shivered and died out.


Hank McCoy was sorting out the bets in his laboratory, calculating amounts and winners, as the news had finally come to him via Kitty that Remy and Rogue had decided to call it quits. Together.

He smiled, focussing on the figures before him and the unexpected big winner and not his own disappointment. Some day he would find a woman who could appreciate the beauty of blue. After all, Kurt had … in a way.

When the news of the victor got out, it was going to arouse amazement, suspicion, anger, and surprise. He, himself, had been startled when the winner first decided to place a bet at all, but at least he was not completely taken unaware by the outcome. The other X-men would be, however, and he was looking forward to seeing their bewildered faces. His fingers flew over the keyboard of his laptop as he calculated the total. It was a pretty sum of money, too, enough for a new laptop or some chemical components…it was too bad he had not decided to partake in the contest himself.

"Hank. Buddy. Pal. Old friend." He did not bother looking up as the door opened and Bobby entered, but switched to another program and continued his work. Of all people, Bobby Drake was the last he wanted to educate on how the bets had turned out. Bobby kept talking at him despite Hank's own reticence. "I ended up winning big in the Remy/Rogue sweepstakes. Care to help me spend it?"

Hank snorted. "You did not."

"Hey, the cash says you're wrong." A roll of dollar bills, shaken by Bobby's left hand, appeared before his vision, obscuring the data on his current mutation testing. "You're wrong, Hank McCoy!" Bobby said in a high, squeaky voice.

"Firstly, my dear friend, if currency were to speak, I doubt it would proclaim itself in tones more suited to your grandmother." He glanced over at Bobby, who was dressed to the nines and ready to protest. He cut him off. "Secondly, since I am the stakes holder for all of the Remy/Rogue bets, I can assure you that since you did not place a bet, you are not a winner."

Bobby's shoulders slumped a little, and he groaned. "Damn. I had to try this out on the one guy who'd never believe me."

"So where did this sudden affluence come from?" Hank inquired.

Bobby regained his former ensouciance. "Hank. Buddy. You, of all people, should know." His hands and arms spread wide as he gave a little shrug. "I'm an accountant. I can get all the money I want."

Hank shook his head. "My last researches into the subject failed to reveal that accountants in general have become the idle rich of the world."

"So, all the money I need, then. Brunch? Come on, Hank. You know you want to." Bobby leaned over the laptop and looked at his data briefly. "You've been working hard enough already."

"I fear I cannot at present. I must still pay out to the real winner," he said, adding emphasis while he smiled at his crony.

"Oh. All right. Hey, maybe you can meet us later? We're going for Thai in the village." Bobby turned to go, then reconsidered. "By the way, congrats on swiping that tape! Just make sure you make a few copies before you give it back, okay? I've already got plans for it."

Hank stopped working to muse over Bobby's last words as the door swung closed and his friend hailed Tessa in the corridor. Unlike Bobby earlier, he had nothing else to distract his mind from coming to the rational truth. The only "tape" he was aware that he could have "swiped" was the tape of the Remy/Rogue shenanigans earlier. He had noticed Jubilation's determination to catch the canoodling couple's erotic display. He had seen Bobby leave first of all, so Bobby had not removed it, but the tape had disappeared, so someone had. Suspicion and analysis led him to an inevitable conclusion, and he emitted a brief murmur of regret. He would probably not get to go to brunch with his friends today. "Hank McCoy, P.I., at your service. Reluctantly."

He adjusted the green visor he was wearing so it fit better over his eyes and turned back to the betting charts.


Rogue relaxed, her left arm embracing her lover's slick, sweaty back as her right hand idly traced patterns on the blue mat she reclined on. Suddenly curious, she asked, "Remy, why did you set things up to look like this?"

He said something into her shoulder and gave it a gentle kiss. She squeezed him a little and he protested. "Come on. I want to know."

He raised his head from her shoulder and began nibbling her where the base of her neck met her collar bone. "This a room for combat, chere. This the best I could do."

"Oh, I doubt that." She shivered, remembering his pounding entry into her willing body.

Pride rang out in his tones as he answered her, continuing his soft nibbles of her flesh. She laid her head back so he could do more, enjoying the warm tickly feelings he was evoking. "Gambit good wit' YOU, chere, but you not a computer, hein?"

"Hey, accordin' to this cartoon Kitty and Jubilee made me watch, my brain is a livin' computer." She twitched as he rose up over her and got within kissing distance again.

"Naw, chere." He brushed her mouth with his. "That Sage."

"Details." She nearly touched him, intending to lie back on the mat again, but he held her in place and kissed her firmly until she was gasping for breath.

He moved slowly down to her neck, continuing his wet strokes against her sensitive skin. "Remy …" She stroked his hair and back, unable to reach more. He was only partly over her body, his legs still over to the left side, his arms holding his chest away from her. "I want to feel more of you while I can."

"Patience, chere. It a virtue, they tell me." His eyes burned into hers, then wandered down her naked body. She felt embarrassingly naked and squirmed under his intense gaze.

"Beautiful," he whispered, taking her right breast in his hand and considering it, then slowly lowering his head and engulfing her nipple and areola. He licked and tugged, sucked and lapped, as she gasped for breath and held him closer when he tried to retreat.

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