The X-Mansion was a furnace, the hottest night of the year wrapping the sprawling estate in a suffocating blanket of heat. Rogue tossed and turned in her bed, the thin sheets clinging to her sweat-slicked skin, until she couldn’t take it anymore. With a frustrated huff, she slid out of bed, her sheer nightgown barely covering her as she padded down the dimly lit hallway. Her skin glistened under the faint moonlight streaming through the windows, each step toward the bathroom fueled by a desperate need for relief.
The bathroom door creaked as she pushed it open, the cool tiles a small mercy under her bare feet. She let out a low, irritated groan, the oppressive heat still lingering in the air like a stubborn guest who wouldn’t leave. “Damn this heat,” she muttered, her Southern drawl thick with annoyance. “Feels like I’m meltin’ faster than a popsicle in a microwave.”
Without hesitation, she tugged the nightgown over her head, tossing it onto the counter with a curse. “Screw this weather,” she grumbled, stepping into the spacious shower stall. She cranked the knob to its coldest setting, and the icy spray hit her like a slap, making her gasp sharply. Her body tensed, muscles coiling under the frigid assault, before slowly relaxing as the chill washed over her. Droplets cascaded down her curves, tracing paths over her shoulders, her hips, her thighs, as she tilted her head back, letting the water soothe the fire on her skin.
Just as she started to lose herself in the sensation, a sudden noise snapped her out of her reverie. The bathroom door swung open with a groan, and Rogue froze mid-rinse, her emerald eyes narrowing as she peered through the steam and water. Her senses sharpened, every nerve on edge. “Who’s there?” she called out, her voice cutting through the sound of the shower like a knife.
In the doorway stood Ben, the quiet 18-year-old with ice powers who’d been at the mansion for just a few months. His lanky frame was silhouetted by the hallway light, a shy but determined smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned casually against the frame. His pale skin almost glowed in the dim light, and his icy blue eyes locked onto her with a boldness that caught her off guard.
Rogue snapped the shower curtain aside just enough to glare at him, water dripping from her dark hair as it clung to her face. “What the hell are you doin’ here, Frostbite?” she barked, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. “This ain’t a peep show!”
Ben didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped closer, his boots echoing softly on the tile, his voice low and teasing as he drawled, “Long time no see, Rogue. Thought I’d cool you down. You don’t need shower water when you’ve got me.”
Rogue rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, the water still running behind her in a steady hiss. “If you’re here for round two, forget it, kid,” she snapped, her voice dripping with exasperation. “Last time was a one-time deal. Principal’s duty to help with... new mutations. Nothin’ more.”
Ben chuckled, leaning against the sink with a casual confidence that belied his age. His icy blue eyes glinted with mischief as he shot back, “Oh, really? Does that ‘duty’ include you moanin’ ‘Daddy’ in the middle of it all?”
Her face flushed a deep crimson, her jaw tightening as she sputtered, “That was a slip, you little icicle! And besides, I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ back with Gambit anyway.” She turned her head slightly, as if to dismiss him, but the heat in her cheeks betrayed her.
Ben scoffed, stepping even closer, his voice dripping with playful mockery. “Gambit? That Cajun’s had like eight chances already. He’s old news. Don’t you want somethin’... fresh? Younger? Faster?” He tilted his head, his smirk widening as he watched her reaction, knowing full well he was pushing every button she had.
Rogue hesitated, her gaze flicking down for just a moment as Ben confidently revealed the extent of his unique mutation—a subtle shimmer of frost dancing along his skin, a visual promise of the cold he could wield. Her breath caught despite herself, the tension in the steamy room spiking like a live wire. The heat of the night and the heat of the moment tangled together, making her head spin.
With a smirk, Ben murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr, “Admit it, sugar. This only twitches for you. I might not have Gambit’s experience, but I’ve got stamina for days. Wanna test that theory?”
Rogue bit her lip, her resolve crumbling as the heat—both from the night and the charged air between them—overwhelmed her. Her green eyes burned with a mix of irritation and undeniable attraction as she finally growled, “Fine, you cocky little snowflake. Let’s get this over with in the shower... then we’re takin’ it to the bed.” She stepped back, pulling the curtain wider, her stance commanding even as water dripped down her body. “But don’t think for a second this means you’ve got me wrapped around your frosty little finger. I’m in charge here, got it?”
Ben’s grin was pure triumph as he shed his shirt in one fluid motion, the air around him cooling noticeably as he stepped forward. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am,” he teased, his tone dripping with mock deference. “Lead the way, boss lady. I’m just here to... chill.”
Rogue snorted, but the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement as she pulled him into the shower, the icy water mingling with the frost of his touch. The night was far from over, and the heat—inside and out—was only just beginning to build.
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