Better Left Unspoken
by Princess Twilite

St. John had his own cult of personality. It had been saved up in bitter chunks of dry humor, curious glances in the random female's direction, and a hell of a lot of adrenaline just waiting to bust out. Fire was never steady. So maybe Rogue wasn't so surprised when he finally couldn't take it anymore, when he finally broke right down and let it out.

She just wished she hadn't heard it happen.


"...what are you... John!"

Harsh breaths, panting, whispering through the door. Rogue paused as she was about to knock, something holding her back, telling her she didn't want to see this.

"Playing the flute. What do you think? I'm kissing you, ya idiot."

Shoes, meet Rogue's heart. Heart, meet Rogue's shoes.

She swallowed and dropped her hand to her side.

"We... can't. Why'd you even..."

When Bobby got like that, jittery and unable to speak, it usually meant something. Rogue closed her eyes, suddenly struck blind by the images that assaulted her. Oh, it meant something all right. It meant he was aroused. It meant maybe she didn't know her boyfriend so well after all.

"I had to. Jesus man, you've been asking for it all along."

Lower and lower, her heart sunk like a battleship. Rogue blinked her eyes open. She couldn't be hearing this. But she was, and she couldn't force herself to pull away. No, instead she pressed her ear to the door and listened harder, for all she was worth.

Masochism. It threaded through her, grabbing onto her heart solidly.

"I haven't been asking for anything! I'm in love with Rogue!"

Hope, it could be such a tease.

"No. You're not. You know you're not. She's your last attempt at denying the inevitable and we both know it. Rogue's got great tits and a pretty brain, but that's not what you're looking for... is it? No, you like `em with a little more in the penis department."

"Shut up!"

"Only speaking the truth."

Hope, it was stripped to the bone.

"We just... can't. Okay? No. You have to... Oh, God."

No. No. Stop. This had to stop.

Rogue put her hand on the door handle as if to open it and make it all go away, prove to herself that it was just a silly nightmare that would never come true. The words that came out of Bobby's mouth next had her turning away with a gasp.

"Yes. Oh... please, yes." A groan, like a dying man going under the water for the final time. Drowning. She couldn't take it.

Panting. Panting. Panting.

Them, and her, because she ran as fast and as far away as she could.


St. John was unsteady and creepy and kind of hot. No room was big enough for him and all his baggage. He had finally let his fire out. She had heard it, with her own ears. Listened to the shaky way he spoke, the need in his voice, the way he just didn't CARE about her at all. Or not enough to keep away from the one thing she had.

Rogue sat heavily on the steps leading to the mansion doors, heart giving a few fitful throbs that she forced herself to ignore. She stared out toward the horizon, the meeting of mountain and sky. Stared and wanted to be anywhere but where she was.

Oh, God. St. John had stolen her boyfriend.


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