No Ghosts In The Attic [PG; Pyro/Rogue]
Title: No Ghosts In The Attic
Author: worblehat
Genre: X-Men (movieverse)
Pairing: Pyro/Rogue
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not my characters.
Notes: Written for xmenflashfic's prompt, "supernatural." Sorry if it only loosely ties.
Word Count: 760
"We shouldn't have come out this far," said Rogue, rubbing gloved hands over her arms, trying to get warm. Somehow it had gone from a comfortable eighty degrees to fifty.
Pyro clicked his lighter on, his face bored as he stared at Rogue. His eyes flickered darkly against the fire blooming against his palm. "Should have brought a jacket," he said.
Rogue glared, anger beginning to stir in her chest. "I don't know what you have against bein' helpful," she said, arms crossing more tightly over her chest.
Pyro said nothing as he continued to watch her, the small fireball in his hand swirling around every few moments. He looked away when he heard a thump.
"What was that?" asked Rogue, her gaze focused on the same place.
"This place is haunted," said Pyro matter-of-factly, minimising the flame. He stood, looking around, trying to locate the source of the strange airy sounds coming from the floor above them.
"M...maybe it's the wind," suggested Rogue, ignoring the way she was moving closer to Pyro, following him. The light, while small, was still more comforting than the bare darkness throughout the small, abandoned warehouse. She couldn't remember now why it seemed like a good idea to tail Pyro to see where he went at night; all she wanted to do was get out of here alive.
Pyro stopped suddenly, turning to look at her over his shoulder. "Are you scared of ghosts?" he asked, voice taunting.
"No," she answered defensively, shooting him another angry glare as he continued walking. "I just prefer not to meet 'em is all," she muttered.
Pyro held out an arm, forcing Rogue to stop walking. She looked up at him as he turned around, the fire magnifying the sharp features of his face. His eyes looked near-black and his hair seemed to glow, almost as if it too were alight.
"It's probably just people having sex," he said quietly, a smirk playing on his lips.
"How can you tell?" Rogue asked, the words out of her mouth before she could bite down her curiosity.
"The tapping," said Pyro, voice quieting further. "It's too even to be a ghost. They're probably against a wall."
"You can do it like that?"
Pyro leaned closer. "Want me to show you?"
Rogue made a face. "Like I would do that with you." She flushed when instead of backing off, Pyro came closer, until their bodies touched, her back against the wall.
"Wouldn't you?"
The flame in his hands died as he ran one fingertip along her cheek, then down her neck. His eyes remained fixed on hers, even after he removed his hand, letting it rest over her clothes, against her stomach. He pulled at the small black tassels at the bottom, two fingers running over the top button of her jeans. His gaze pierced bright even in the darkness. She felt cold, the unfulfilled desire to press herself against him with nothing more than skin beginning to burn heavily in her mind.
"Let's go," he said, turning away from her.
She reached for the sleeve of his jacket, wanting him to face her again - to look at her the way he'd just done. Her heart had raced then, had felt like it would never stop beating; like her blood wouldn't stop rushing through her veins, fast and pulsing with feelings she was pretty sure she hadn't felt before. Not like this.
"John," she said softly when he did nothing more than turn to look at her hand, as if waiting for her to drop it timidly. Against her instincts, she stayed where she was, staring him down; threading her arm through his, making sure to be careful not to touch his skin.
They walked outside, Rogue shivering a little. Pyro stopped, removing her hand from his arm.
"Sorry," said Rogue apologetically, face darkening in embarrassment; wondering if she'd taken John's arm because it provided a little more heat or if it was...some other reason.
She managed five steps before she felt something heavy settling on her shoulders. When she looked down, it was to see the cuffs of Pyro's jacket at her wrists. She slid her arms through the sleeves, wrapping herself in warmth.
"Um. Thanks," she said, feeling awkward, touched and a little bit scared.
"Just give it to me when you're done," he said, his voice quiet as they made their way back towards the mansion, bare fingers grazing against gloved ones for short moments before breaking apart in hopeful uncertainty.
Author: worblehat
Genre: X-Men (movieverse)
Pairing: Pyro/Rogue
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not my characters.
Notes: Written for xmenflashfic's prompt, "supernatural." Sorry if it only loosely ties.
Word Count: 760
"We shouldn't have come out this far," said Rogue, rubbing gloved hands over her arms, trying to get warm. Somehow it had gone from a comfortable eighty degrees to fifty.
Pyro clicked his lighter on, his face bored as he stared at Rogue. His eyes flickered darkly against the fire blooming against his palm. "Should have brought a jacket," he said.
Rogue glared, anger beginning to stir in her chest. "I don't know what you have against bein' helpful," she said, arms crossing more tightly over her chest.
Pyro said nothing as he continued to watch her, the small fireball in his hand swirling around every few moments. He looked away when he heard a thump.
"What was that?" asked Rogue, her gaze focused on the same place.
"This place is haunted," said Pyro matter-of-factly, minimising the flame. He stood, looking around, trying to locate the source of the strange airy sounds coming from the floor above them.
"M...maybe it's the wind," suggested Rogue, ignoring the way she was moving closer to Pyro, following him. The light, while small, was still more comforting than the bare darkness throughout the small, abandoned warehouse. She couldn't remember now why it seemed like a good idea to tail Pyro to see where he went at night; all she wanted to do was get out of here alive.
Pyro stopped suddenly, turning to look at her over his shoulder. "Are you scared of ghosts?" he asked, voice taunting.
"No," she answered defensively, shooting him another angry glare as he continued walking. "I just prefer not to meet 'em is all," she muttered.
Pyro held out an arm, forcing Rogue to stop walking. She looked up at him as he turned around, the fire magnifying the sharp features of his face. His eyes looked near-black and his hair seemed to glow, almost as if it too were alight.
"It's probably just people having sex," he said quietly, a smirk playing on his lips.
"How can you tell?" Rogue asked, the words out of her mouth before she could bite down her curiosity.
"The tapping," said Pyro, voice quieting further. "It's too even to be a ghost. They're probably against a wall."
"You can do it like that?"
Pyro leaned closer. "Want me to show you?"
Rogue made a face. "Like I would do that with you." She flushed when instead of backing off, Pyro came closer, until their bodies touched, her back against the wall.
"Wouldn't you?"
The flame in his hands died as he ran one fingertip along her cheek, then down her neck. His eyes remained fixed on hers, even after he removed his hand, letting it rest over her clothes, against her stomach. He pulled at the small black tassels at the bottom, two fingers running over the top button of her jeans. His gaze pierced bright even in the darkness. She felt cold, the unfulfilled desire to press herself against him with nothing more than skin beginning to burn heavily in her mind.
"Let's go," he said, turning away from her.
She reached for the sleeve of his jacket, wanting him to face her again - to look at her the way he'd just done. Her heart had raced then, had felt like it would never stop beating; like her blood wouldn't stop rushing through her veins, fast and pulsing with feelings she was pretty sure she hadn't felt before. Not like this.
"John," she said softly when he did nothing more than turn to look at her hand, as if waiting for her to drop it timidly. Against her instincts, she stayed where she was, staring him down; threading her arm through his, making sure to be careful not to touch his skin.
They walked outside, Rogue shivering a little. Pyro stopped, removing her hand from his arm.
"Sorry," said Rogue apologetically, face darkening in embarrassment; wondering if she'd taken John's arm because it provided a little more heat or if it was...some other reason.
She managed five steps before she felt something heavy settling on her shoulders. When she looked down, it was to see the cuffs of Pyro's jacket at her wrists. She slid her arms through the sleeves, wrapping herself in warmth.
"Um. Thanks," she said, feeling awkward, touched and a little bit scared.
"Just give it to me when you're done," he said, his voice quiet as they made their way back towards the mansion, bare fingers grazing against gloved ones for short moments before breaking apart in hopeful uncertainty.