Ficlet: "Of Tents and Telepaths"
Title: Of Tents and Telepaths
Author: Musamea
Summary: Scott and Jean go camping in their early days as a couple. Shenanigans ensue. Short ficlet written for likeadeuce's Scott/Jean, camping prompt.
It was, Scott thought, a perfect night. The rain had stopped. The heavy droplets of water that every gust of wind shook out of the trees and onto their tent had almost stopped. It was chilly enough outside to demand that he and Jean share a sleeping bag, and -- best of all -- they'd both gotten so thoroughly soaked that they'd had to "get out of their wet things" before settling in for the night. Everything else was drenched, too, proving Jean's point of needing waterproof backpacks ("You've gotten way too used to having Ro mess with the weather," she'd said, wrinkling her nose at him), but Scott thought he could give up his always-prepared Boy Scout badge to have Jean Grey, skin slightly chilled and wholly, gloriously naked, pressed up against him like this.
"I could get used to this," he said, trying to maneuver one arm around her shoulders.
"Hmm," she said. Then, "Ouch! Scott, that was my hair."
Her slippery, damp hair, fine beneath his touch and fire-bright to his eyes. "Sorry." He moved to kiss her on the forehead, but Jean, lacking the advantage of sleep goggles equipped with nightvision, moved at just the wrong moment and knocked her head against his chin.
"Godfuckingdammit!" She pressed one hand to her scalp.
"Um," Scott said.
Don't apologize, she sent to him telepathically. Her mental signature had a deep red edge to it. If she'd spoken aloud, it would have been a snarl.
"I don't think I'd even know where to begin," he said carefully. This was definitely not how he'd envisioned this camping trip playing out, when the Professor had first given him the keys to the Land Rover and permission to take Jean with him. Now he remembered a slight gleam in Xavier's eyes when he'd said, "I think it will be a very educational experience, Scott." Smug bastard.
It was supposed to be romantic -- the first time they'd spent the whole night together. He'd brought his guitar and materials to build a bonfire and to make s'mores. Was it his fault that it had started raining before he could get the fire half-started, stranding them in this tent and his guitar in its case in the car? He'd just been trying to make the best of the situation--
"You were not," Jean interrupted. "You were thinking about yourself and being horny and--"
"Hey! I was not!"
"Please, Scott, give a girl some credit. Especially if she's a telepath!" Jean didn't sound annoyed anymore, though he wasn't not sure if that's a proceed-with-more-caution sign or an all-clear.
"Well, it's not the only thing I was thinking..."
She laughed and leaned in to kiss him on the jaw. "Scott, this is life. It rains and I get cranky and we'll both have bad breath in the morning."
"You know... that sounds like fun to me."
"Weirdo." She nudged him in the ribs, which resulted in a tickling match until they were both breathless. They lay still after, listening to each other breathe as the rain started up again.
Jean yawned. "Can sex wait until morning?"
"Bad breath and all?"
"Yes, Mr. Summers, bad breath and all."
He smiled in the darkness. "Good night, Jean."
"Mmm. Don't let the bedbugs bite."
It was a perfect night.
Author: Musamea
Summary: Scott and Jean go camping in their early days as a couple. Shenanigans ensue. Short ficlet written for likeadeuce's Scott/Jean, camping prompt.
It was, Scott thought, a perfect night. The rain had stopped. The heavy droplets of water that every gust of wind shook out of the trees and onto their tent had almost stopped. It was chilly enough outside to demand that he and Jean share a sleeping bag, and -- best of all -- they'd both gotten so thoroughly soaked that they'd had to "get out of their wet things" before settling in for the night. Everything else was drenched, too, proving Jean's point of needing waterproof backpacks ("You've gotten way too used to having Ro mess with the weather," she'd said, wrinkling her nose at him), but Scott thought he could give up his always-prepared Boy Scout badge to have Jean Grey, skin slightly chilled and wholly, gloriously naked, pressed up against him like this.
"I could get used to this," he said, trying to maneuver one arm around her shoulders.
"Hmm," she said. Then, "Ouch! Scott, that was my hair."
Her slippery, damp hair, fine beneath his touch and fire-bright to his eyes. "Sorry." He moved to kiss her on the forehead, but Jean, lacking the advantage of sleep goggles equipped with nightvision, moved at just the wrong moment and knocked her head against his chin.
"Godfuckingdammit!" She pressed one hand to her scalp.
"Um," Scott said.
Don't apologize, she sent to him telepathically. Her mental signature had a deep red edge to it. If she'd spoken aloud, it would have been a snarl.
"I don't think I'd even know where to begin," he said carefully. This was definitely not how he'd envisioned this camping trip playing out, when the Professor had first given him the keys to the Land Rover and permission to take Jean with him. Now he remembered a slight gleam in Xavier's eyes when he'd said, "I think it will be a very educational experience, Scott." Smug bastard.
It was supposed to be romantic -- the first time they'd spent the whole night together. He'd brought his guitar and materials to build a bonfire and to make s'mores. Was it his fault that it had started raining before he could get the fire half-started, stranding them in this tent and his guitar in its case in the car? He'd just been trying to make the best of the situation--
"You were not," Jean interrupted. "You were thinking about yourself and being horny and--"
"Hey! I was not!"
"Please, Scott, give a girl some credit. Especially if she's a telepath!" Jean didn't sound annoyed anymore, though he wasn't not sure if that's a proceed-with-more-caution sign or an all-clear.
"Well, it's not the only thing I was thinking..."
She laughed and leaned in to kiss him on the jaw. "Scott, this is life. It rains and I get cranky and we'll both have bad breath in the morning."
"You know... that sounds like fun to me."
"Weirdo." She nudged him in the ribs, which resulted in a tickling match until they were both breathless. They lay still after, listening to each other breathe as the rain started up again.
Jean yawned. "Can sex wait until morning?"
"Bad breath and all?"
"Yes, Mr. Summers, bad breath and all."
He smiled in the darkness. "Good night, Jean."
"Mmm. Don't let the bedbugs bite."
It was a perfect night.