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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-05
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Temptation of Skin-to-Skin

Summary:

All Rogue wanted was the feeling of skin-to-skin

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Temptation of Skin-to-Skin
by amorphous

Rogue watched Peter from across the room. Watching him from afar had become a habit of hers since she had discovered that she could touch him when he was in his metal form. Remy held her heart, but she couldn't even touch him - not skin-to-skin. She had to protect him. It wasn't fair. But this man... Peter, she could. She could remember the feeling of his smooth metal skin against her bare fingers and his fingers against her skin. It was like a dream come true.

It was a dream come true.

Her heart and soul wanted to reach out and touch Remy that way, to feel his skin against hers, and revel in the ability that most people took for granted. Skin to skin - that's all she wanted. She wanted something primal and sexual with Remy, the Cajun that she loved.

She couldn't give into the urge if she didn't want to kill him.

But she could touch Peter.

Wrapping her arms around herself, as if her arms were restraints to stop herself from giving in, she turned away from the shirtless man, trying to block out the memories of his metal skin against her skin. His bare chest made it all the more tempting to give into the urge to try to touch him, to be with him in a way that only he could provide.

"Rogue?" Peter's voice said from behind her, soft and clear. She froze. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," she answered softly, knowing it was lie. Everything was wrong. She was wrong. Biting her lip, she turned back toward him, knowing her continued dismal would only tell him that she was unhappy more than anything she could say. "Ah was just tired."

He nodded but didn't believe her, looking at her like a concerned friend. Of course, he didn't realize that she had just been thinking how she could touch him, feel him. It was probably better that way.

"Ah'll be goin' to bed now." She turned away, feeling more unhappy and confused than she did before she had caught a glimpse of the man. Maybe if she hadn't she wouldn't be so unsettled now.

"Rogue," he whispered as he stepped forward despite her words. His hand reached out - all soft skinned and untouchable. She wanted so much to reach out her hand, to touch him, but she couldn't. Not now. Not ever.

Confusion passed over her face and mind as she closed her eyes again, trying to push away the thoughts. A cold, steel hand reached out and touched her cheek as if to reassure her of something. She opened her eyes automatically at the unexpected touch, seeing Peter in his steel form in front of her now. Had he changed just to touch her?

"Rogue, what's wrong?" he asked again, his voice the same as before.

"Nothin'," she repeated. On its own accord, her hand reached up to lay on top of his. It was the closest thing she ever get to feeling someone's skin against her own. "Nothin' is wrong."

With a slow gesture, he leaned down and kissed her softly. It was like he read her mind, but she knew he couldn't. He couldn't read her mind anymore than she could read his. The kiss was short and sweet and he pulled back almost immediately. It was merely a taste of what she could actually share him. Only with him, actually. Her heart wanted to share this with Remy, but it was impossible. She slid her hand around his neck, trying to pull him back, but he wouldn't budge.

"Peter," she breathed.

He leaned down so his mouth was a hair's width from her own before he whispered, "Do you miss Remy?"

She jerked back swiftly, pushing him away haphazardly. He didn't stumble back; his steel form kept her from behind able to push him without using all her strength. "No... No, it's not... No..." she whispered, shaking her head fervently. She wanted to deny that her desire for him had anything to do with Remy's absence, but she couldn't be certain.

He stayed where he was. He was so hard to be incredibly gentle with her. He wanted to be there for her, to give her what she needed, but neither of them wanted to by used as a replacement for someone else. Peter wasn't Remy; she wasn't Kitty. But somehow, they drifted close again. Her hand was on the back of his neck once again, pulling him down for a kiss. He didn't even bother to whisper his question again. Both of them knew the answer.

Rogue leaned into the kiss more, loving the feel of Peter's skin, though hard and cold, against her hand. Her hands roamed around his steel chest, trying to cement the texture into her mind. For nights when even Peter wasn't there.

No one seemed to understand the feeling of not being able to touch another person. It was like whoever created her was just torture her. And to make matters worse, the object of her true affection and that held her very heart in his hand, Remy couldn't touch her, but she could touch her friend, Peter. It was injustice, unfair, and wrong.

She closed her eyes as his mouth moved over hers. He could do what no other man could. Remy could touch her soul in a way that Peter could not, but Peter could do what Remy could not. It was wrong. It was so wrong, but why did it feel so right?

Something told Rogue that she had to give in. Peter seemed to want her as much as much as she wanted him, though he did not need her in the way she needed him. She didn't love him the way she wanted to. She couldn't.

"Ah don't love you," she whispered, pulling away. She pushed his steel body away as hard as she could, barely moving him an inch. But he understood and backed up a few feet. Standing so far apart from the other man she could touch, she closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure. "Ah'm sorry, Peter, but ah don't love you," she repeated in a whisper before she swung around and left the room.

Outside the room and away from temptation, she leaned against the wall and took a few deep breaths. Another night down. Another temptation won. But none of that mattered as she crawled into bed, alone and cold, a few minutes later.

 

end

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author amorphous.
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