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seriousficTitle: Sit Down Together
Fandom: X-Men
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 847
Characters/Pairings: Jean/Emma/Scott
Summary: When Scott’s away, Emma and Jean can admit they’re in love… just not very loudly.
Jean is a morning person, while Emma would sleep till evening if the world and her body would let her. Ever since she left home, she’d been clubbing and fucking and fighting into the wee hours of the morning. But now, she’s won.
She wakes up at noon, getting out of the leftmost of the three queen-sized beds spaced dorkily apart by Scott. Scott and Jean’s beds are empty and made, Scott’s more neatly of course. Emma gets up, showers, dresses. No hurry to any of it. As she yawns away all of last night, she lets her mind pool into every nook and cranny of their shared rooms. Scott’s gone. Jean’s here. Emma comes out of the bedroom, still slick with shower water, to find the redhead channel-surfing Scott’s HD. Using it instead of the 32-inch in the rec room meant Scott would be gone for a while.
Emma gets herself breakfast/lunch, letting the question of Scott’s whereabouts seep from her mind to Jean’s. Jean replies, equally languidly, that Scott has gone to collect a powerful potential student from his family. Beast has gone along to help break that the kid is a mutant. Jean has every confidence in them as she settles on a channel showing the first Indiana Jones movie.
It’s a good part in a good movie, Indy and Marion and Sallah looking down at the Nazi plane gearing up. Emma puts her breakfast away and starts some microwave popcorn. The microwave dings just in time for the first punch to be thrown. Emma quickly pours it into a bowl and adds a little salt, then sits down beside Jean. Not a word passes between them. As soon as Jean felt the thought pop into Emma’s head, she wiggled over to make space for the blonde in clear invitation.
It’s a little easier without Scott there to play Dutiful Wife and Steamy Temptress for. They’re all three aware, on some level, that it’s a put-on, a game, but without him they dispense with even the most ironic pretense. Jean can touch Emma’s arm lightly and Emma can drape herself against Jean’s side and they can share popcorn. When the movie hits a commercial, Emma gets up to scan through Scott’s impenetrably-organized DVD library.
“You want to watch something else?” Jean asks.
“We have this on DVD.”
“So? I like watching it on TV.”
“Commercials and low-quality picture…?”
“If it means that much to you.” Jean gets up to make more popcorn and get them beers. Telepathically, she asks what Emma would like and gets an answer. She doesn’t mind making a martini for her lover.
Emma is not done. “You know how much work Scott put into getting the HD working, right? It’s just wasteful not to enjoy it to its fullest.”
By the time the DVD credits roll, they’re sprawled across the couch. Emma lets the pleasure at sort of spending the whole day in bed so she can dance the night away flow and massage Jean’s mind. The popcorn bowl is empty except for kernels, it lies under the arm of the couch with Emma’s glass and Jean’s Heineken bottle. Telekinetically, Jean floats Temple of Doom into the DVD tray. Emma kisses the nape of Jean’s neck.
Scott gets back just as Willie Scott is about to be sacrificed. Jean checks Emma’s mind, wondering if she should stiffen up to match Emma, but the blonde doesn’t react at all. Scott leaves his shoes and jacket in the foyer, comes in with black socks poking out from his jeans. He’s wearing the flannel shirt that always corresponds with working-man musk in their heads, and Jean adds her recollection of his scent to Emma’s.
Seeing what they’re watching, he pours himself a glass of orange juice and settles down at the foot of the couch, leaning against the middle cushion. Jean pets his hair and Emma kisses her outstretched arm. When the movie ends, he gets up, stretches.
“Could you get me a mineral shake?” Emma asks. Scott can make mineral shakes so good it’s like a secondary mutation.
“One for me too,” Jean says. “And we have some leftover pork chops if you’re hungry.”
Emma sticks out her tongue.
“Forge gave me some new specs for the Danger Room to look over.”
“They can wait,” she says, smiling brightly. Emma doesn’t want it to end, this nice little oasis in their relationship. No Magneto, no Madeline Pryor, no Phoenix or Hellfire Club or Breakworld… just them. “I’ve never seen Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade.”
Scott nods to her. “We can’t have that.”
He goes to make them snacks and reheat dinner and Jean uses her telekinesis on an easy chair until it’s next to the couch end they’re using as a pillow. They can grope him and use him as a handy drink holder. Emma likes Jean’s furniture arrangement.
An hour through they stop for a bathroom break. Emma lazily stretches before kissing Scott on the head.
“Why can’t it always be like this?” Scott asks.
“It is,” Jean assures him.
I was talking over OT3s with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
prozacpark and we decided that while, out of Peter/Felicia/MJ, Felicia and Mary-Jane were more friends with benefits than out-and-out lovers... Jean and Emma really would love each other. It wouldn't be as girly as a Felicia/MJ friendship, and it would be understated in comparison with Scott/Jean's snuggly meant-to-be and Emma/Scott's sexy sexiness, but it would be very intimate and comfortable. Emma would just sit down next to Jean and happen to have popcorn with her, while Felicia and MJ would be very buddy-buddy without Peter to compete for: "I'm making Pizza Bites, you want any?" "Oooh, Independence Day is on! Wanna watch?"
Fandom: X-Men
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 847
Characters/Pairings: Jean/Emma/Scott
Summary: When Scott’s away, Emma and Jean can admit they’re in love… just not very loudly.
Jean is a morning person, while Emma would sleep till evening if the world and her body would let her. Ever since she left home, she’d been clubbing and fucking and fighting into the wee hours of the morning. But now, she’s won.
She wakes up at noon, getting out of the leftmost of the three queen-sized beds spaced dorkily apart by Scott. Scott and Jean’s beds are empty and made, Scott’s more neatly of course. Emma gets up, showers, dresses. No hurry to any of it. As she yawns away all of last night, she lets her mind pool into every nook and cranny of their shared rooms. Scott’s gone. Jean’s here. Emma comes out of the bedroom, still slick with shower water, to find the redhead channel-surfing Scott’s HD. Using it instead of the 32-inch in the rec room meant Scott would be gone for a while.
Emma gets herself breakfast/lunch, letting the question of Scott’s whereabouts seep from her mind to Jean’s. Jean replies, equally languidly, that Scott has gone to collect a powerful potential student from his family. Beast has gone along to help break that the kid is a mutant. Jean has every confidence in them as she settles on a channel showing the first Indiana Jones movie.
It’s a good part in a good movie, Indy and Marion and Sallah looking down at the Nazi plane gearing up. Emma puts her breakfast away and starts some microwave popcorn. The microwave dings just in time for the first punch to be thrown. Emma quickly pours it into a bowl and adds a little salt, then sits down beside Jean. Not a word passes between them. As soon as Jean felt the thought pop into Emma’s head, she wiggled over to make space for the blonde in clear invitation.
It’s a little easier without Scott there to play Dutiful Wife and Steamy Temptress for. They’re all three aware, on some level, that it’s a put-on, a game, but without him they dispense with even the most ironic pretense. Jean can touch Emma’s arm lightly and Emma can drape herself against Jean’s side and they can share popcorn. When the movie hits a commercial, Emma gets up to scan through Scott’s impenetrably-organized DVD library.
“You want to watch something else?” Jean asks.
“We have this on DVD.”
“So? I like watching it on TV.”
“Commercials and low-quality picture…?”
“If it means that much to you.” Jean gets up to make more popcorn and get them beers. Telepathically, she asks what Emma would like and gets an answer. She doesn’t mind making a martini for her lover.
Emma is not done. “You know how much work Scott put into getting the HD working, right? It’s just wasteful not to enjoy it to its fullest.”
By the time the DVD credits roll, they’re sprawled across the couch. Emma lets the pleasure at sort of spending the whole day in bed so she can dance the night away flow and massage Jean’s mind. The popcorn bowl is empty except for kernels, it lies under the arm of the couch with Emma’s glass and Jean’s Heineken bottle. Telekinetically, Jean floats Temple of Doom into the DVD tray. Emma kisses the nape of Jean’s neck.
Scott gets back just as Willie Scott is about to be sacrificed. Jean checks Emma’s mind, wondering if she should stiffen up to match Emma, but the blonde doesn’t react at all. Scott leaves his shoes and jacket in the foyer, comes in with black socks poking out from his jeans. He’s wearing the flannel shirt that always corresponds with working-man musk in their heads, and Jean adds her recollection of his scent to Emma’s.
Seeing what they’re watching, he pours himself a glass of orange juice and settles down at the foot of the couch, leaning against the middle cushion. Jean pets his hair and Emma kisses her outstretched arm. When the movie ends, he gets up, stretches.
“Could you get me a mineral shake?” Emma asks. Scott can make mineral shakes so good it’s like a secondary mutation.
“One for me too,” Jean says. “And we have some leftover pork chops if you’re hungry.”
Emma sticks out her tongue.
“Forge gave me some new specs for the Danger Room to look over.”
“They can wait,” she says, smiling brightly. Emma doesn’t want it to end, this nice little oasis in their relationship. No Magneto, no Madeline Pryor, no Phoenix or Hellfire Club or Breakworld… just them. “I’ve never seen Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade.”
Scott nods to her. “We can’t have that.”
He goes to make them snacks and reheat dinner and Jean uses her telekinesis on an easy chair until it’s next to the couch end they’re using as a pillow. They can grope him and use him as a handy drink holder. Emma likes Jean’s furniture arrangement.
An hour through they stop for a bathroom break. Emma lazily stretches before kissing Scott on the head.
“Why can’t it always be like this?” Scott asks.
“It is,” Jean assures him.
I was talking over OT3s with
prozacpark and we decided that while, out of Peter/Felicia/MJ, Felicia and Mary-Jane were more friends with benefits than out-and-out lovers... Jean and Emma really would love each other. It wouldn't be as girly as a Felicia/MJ friendship, and it would be understated in comparison with Scott/Jean's snuggly meant-to-be and Emma/Scott's sexy sexiness, but it would be very intimate and comfortable. Emma would just sit down next to Jean and happen to have popcorn with her, while Felicia and MJ would be very buddy-buddy without Peter to compete for: "I'm making Pizza Bites, you want any?" "Oooh, Independence Day is on! Wanna watch?"
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