Summary:  Rogue finally learns to control her absorption power, but finds that there are still other… barriers… in her relationship with Remy.

Rating:  R (for very adult situations)

Disclaimer:  Just borrowin'.  I'll put 'em back, I swear.

Chastity Belt

"Remy, Ah've finally learned to control mah powers!" an ecstatic Rogue exclaimed, bounding into the Cajun's arms.

"That's great, che—oomph!"  Both Rogue and Remy tumbled to the floor as she landed in his arms, she on top of him.

"Oops," Rogue giggled, her excitement unaffected by the fall.  Of course, she wasn't the one who'd have bruises on her backside come tomorrow.  "Super-strength."

Remy grinned in return while inwardly he screamed French curses at the pain he was experiencing from the fall.  Pushing that minor agony aside, he returned to his standard role, smiling suggestively at his love as she lay on top of him.  "So, what do ya tink we should do 'bout it, chere?"

Rogue returned his expression with a wicked smile of her own.  "Ah don't know, Swamp rat.  Whatcha have in mind?"

Their lips edged closer, mere inches apart, with both their hearts fluttering in anticipation.

"Take it ta a room," they heard Wolverine growl in annoyance as he maneuvered past them in the hallway.  Suddenly self-conscious, Rogue lifted herself to her feet and Remy followed suit.

"Ah guess this ain't the best place for—this," she remarked, blushing.

Remy pulled her against his chest, enclosing her in a firm embrace.  "Remy don' care where we are, so long as we t'gether," he told her.

"Remy, that's so sweet," Rogue said, giving him a small, shy smile.  "Let's go ta your room."



Fifteen minutes later found them both completely disrobed on Remy's bed.

"Chere, you're so beautiful," Remy whispered as he stared down at his love lying naked in his arms.

Rogue giggled, a slight flush spreading along her skin.  "Yah ain't so bad yourself, Cajun."

Remy trailed kisses down her neck and along her collarbone while his expert hands roamed her body freely.  Rogue ran her own hands through his thick chestnut hair, reveling in the smooth texture.

"Remy," she moaned, eyes closed, lips parted, breathing heavy.

He glanced up at her face.  "Ya sure 'bout this, Rogue?" he questioned once more.

Rogue opened her eyes and met his gaze with her own.  She nodded.  "Yeah, sugah, Ah am."

Remy smiled at her lovingly and then grasped one of her legs, separating the two and allowing him the space to fit in between.  Then, slowly, he pushed himself forward.  At first, all he felt was warmth and wetness—and the tightness, incredible, but a little more than he'd expected and more than he'd ever experienced before.

Then he reached a barrier and heard Rogue gasp beneath him.  He paused to look into her emerald-green eyes, and then in one swift move slammed forward, prepared to complete the act.  But he never made it.

Rogue was reveling in the amazing sensations that Remy was producing in her, and watched as he looked up at for one final confirmation before he suddenly plunged into her, only to pause abruptly in the movement.  Concerned, she looked up into her love's face, and found it contorted, not in pleasure, but pain.

And then Remy screamed.


Rogue waited outside the med lab, sobbing into Storm's shoulder.  The other woman comforted her friend with her calm presence and warm embrace as both awaited news of Remy's condition.

Finally, the door opened to allow the quiet exit of Dr. Henry McCoy.

Rogue pulled away from Storm abruptly.  "Is he alraght?  What's wrong with him?  Can Ah see him?"  She made a movement to enter the lab, but Hank stopped her.

"Wait, Rogue, you cannot go in.  Not before we discuss this."

Rogue pulled back from the door and regarded the blue doctor impatiently.  "Well, yah gonna answer mah questions?"

Hank cleared his throat, readjusting the spectacles perched at the end of his nose.  "Gambit is fine, but recovering.  I gave him some painkillers and he's been sedated.  As for what happened, he informed me of your, um, recent activities.  But between all the screaming and the moaning—oh, dear," he broke off as he realized how his candid description was affecting the southern belle.

Storm interjected hastily, attempting to distract Rogue from another bout of tears, "Hank, perhaps you should simply cut to the chase."

"Ah, yes," he replied, looking at the two women apologetically.  "Well, I must ask you some questions about the—incident."

"Anything, Hank, if it'll happen Remy," Rogue replied.

"Alright," Hank shifted the spectacles.  "So you learned to control your powers recently?"  Rogue nodded.  "Just the absorption power?"  Rogue looked at him in confusion, and glanced toward Storm before she nodded again.  Hank cleared his throat again, and this time it appeared as if under the blue fur, the doctor was actually blushing.  "Um, Rogue, you are a virgin, aren't you?"

Now it was Rogue's turn to blush.  Finally, she replied, "Yeah, Ah am.  What's that gotta do with anything?"

"Um, Rogue," Hank continued, visibly uncomfortable with the whole conversation, "I believe there are some hidden implications of your invulnerability that no one ever considered."

"What?"  Then Rogue's eyes widened as realization struck her.  "Yah don't mean…?"

Hank nodded.  "I'm afraid so.  What you have there," unconsciously, he glanced down at the area that was the source of the problem at hand, but quickly returned his gaze to her face, "Is a built-in chastity built."

There was a moment's pause as Rogue let the enormity of situation sink in.  Then she screamed.  And screamed.  Loud enough, almost, to disrupt the much-need recovery of the heavily sedated Cajun in the room beyond the door.