day thursday - cooking/baking
Have some post-movie mutant school AU mansion fic. It occurs to me now that Charles tickling Ororo might be more of a daycare!Charles thing than a canon!Charles thing, but let's assume that several months of having become a father to a five year old girl has changed some things? Or I might edit it out before I AO3 it, who knows.
***
cooking/baking (~800(
***
It's early. The sun's not even peeking over the horizon and the sky is still the purple fading into lavender that signals the dawn. Despite the hour, the bed is cold when Charles rolls into the spot that Erik normally occupies. It's not odd for Erik to wake before him, but it's early even for Erik's daily run, and when Charles reaches out, he's not out on the grounds, but in the kitchen.
He's also not alone.
Charles dons his robe and slippers. It's well before the time he usually rises, but whatever's going on in the kitchen seems more appealing than sleep, oddly enough.
"Careful, now," Erik is saying. "Make sure you don't spill."
Ororo is sitting on the counter, pouring a measuring cup full of milk into a large bowl. Erik stands next to her, a careful hand on her back. Behind him, a whisk twirls back and forth through a metal bowl. Scott and Jean are at the table, where Scott is hard at work greasing muffin tins for Jean to fill with batter.
It's not so odd for Ororo to be up this early, but he's surprised to see Jean and Scott. Still, they're all working silently and happily together, and Charles isn't about to protest a freshly made breakfast. He joins Erik and Ororo at the counter, smiling.
"Good morning," he says. "This looks promising." Erik turns his head enough for a kiss, warm and familiar, even as Ororo giggles and squeals, "Ew, kissing!"
"Oh no," Charles says, "not kissing!" He leans over and kisses her cheek as well. She wrinkles her nose at him, grinning, and he wrinkles his right back.
"We're making muffins!" Jean tells him. "Erik told us how to do it, but we made them ourselves, me and Scott."
"That's wonderful," Charles says. To Erik and Ororo, he adds, "And what are you two making?"
"Eggs?" Ororo says, looking up at Erik.
"Quiche," Erik corrects her. "Angel made some extra pie crusts last night and said I could have them for quiche. One spinach and cheese and one bacon and cheese."
"And your army of kitchen recruits?" Charles asks, smoothing back Ororo's hair as she stirs an egg and milk mixture with a whisk.
"Ororo was already up when I woke," Erik says. "When Jean and Scott joined us, I thought it best to put them to work."
"I think they have laws against that, now," Charles remarks, watching with never-ceasing wonder as Jean, finished filling the tins, carefully lifts them telekinetically and floats them towards the oven. The fluidity with which the oven door opens leads Charles to believe that part is Erik's doing, but the tins slip inside without incident and Jean smiles radiantly.
"I did it!" she says.
"That was brilliant," Charles tells her. "Well done, Jean! Very good!"
"You're getting better," Erik remarks without inflection, but Jean understands the weight behind the rare compliment and her smile brightens further. "Now, if the two of you would place the fillings in the pie crusts, Ororo and I will finish with the eggs." He turns to Charles and says, "You can make coffee."
He touches Charles' wrist, fleeting and warm and chased by an absent projection of Erik's current feelings--tired, hungry, content, loved. It's enough to give Charles pause. He stops walking and turns back to Erik, who is peering into Ororo's bowl and taking the whisk from her to mix it himself.
Erik is happy. He's content and loved and not on the precipice of leaving, not warily considering his options or waiting for the next catastrophe. He's exhausted debating politics until midnight, sore from the sex that followed, cautious of Ororo's balance on the counter, proud of Jean's display of power, worried that Scott will never see himself as more than destruction, and unquestionably sure that this is where he belongs. Not just in this moment, but for as long as he can manage. It's not even a full conscious thought, just a bone-deep awareness that blankets his mind. Charles hasn't even truly noticed it before now.
Charles is still leery of embarrassing himself in front of the others, but Jean doesn't mind, Scott's discomfort is the minor embarrassment of watching something not meant for him, and for all her giggling, Ororo doesn't even know it's something to be ashamed of, so Charles turns on his heel and takes the whisk from Erik's hand, kissing him again and then once more.
Erik's hand settles at his waist when he pulls back. He's smiling, confused, affectionately exasperated.
"Yes?" he asks mildly.
"Nothing," Charles says. "I'm just happy you're here."
"I am too," Erik says. He pushes Charles gently backwards. "Go make coffee."
Charles steps out of Erik's grip as Scott complains that there's too much kissing and Jean concentrates on spreading the grated cheese evenly over the bacon in her pie crust.
Charles was right; going to the kitchen was an infinitely better choice than going back to sleep.
*
the rest of the days:
1. Holding hands
2. Cuddling somewhere
3. Gaming/watching a movie
4. On a date
5. Kissing
6. Wearing each others’ clothes
7. Shopping
8. Hanging out with friends
9. Making out
10. Eating icecream
11. In a different clothing style
12. During their morning ritual(s)
13. Spooning
14. Doing something together
15. In formal wear
16. Dancing
17. Cooking/baking
18. In battle, side-by-side
19. Arguing
20. Making up afterwards
21. Getting married
22. On one of their birthdays
23. Doing something ridiculous
24. Doing something sweet
25. Doing something hot
***
cooking/baking (~800(
***
It's early. The sun's not even peeking over the horizon and the sky is still the purple fading into lavender that signals the dawn. Despite the hour, the bed is cold when Charles rolls into the spot that Erik normally occupies. It's not odd for Erik to wake before him, but it's early even for Erik's daily run, and when Charles reaches out, he's not out on the grounds, but in the kitchen.
He's also not alone.
Charles dons his robe and slippers. It's well before the time he usually rises, but whatever's going on in the kitchen seems more appealing than sleep, oddly enough.
"Careful, now," Erik is saying. "Make sure you don't spill."
Ororo is sitting on the counter, pouring a measuring cup full of milk into a large bowl. Erik stands next to her, a careful hand on her back. Behind him, a whisk twirls back and forth through a metal bowl. Scott and Jean are at the table, where Scott is hard at work greasing muffin tins for Jean to fill with batter.
It's not so odd for Ororo to be up this early, but he's surprised to see Jean and Scott. Still, they're all working silently and happily together, and Charles isn't about to protest a freshly made breakfast. He joins Erik and Ororo at the counter, smiling.
"Good morning," he says. "This looks promising." Erik turns his head enough for a kiss, warm and familiar, even as Ororo giggles and squeals, "Ew, kissing!"
"Oh no," Charles says, "not kissing!" He leans over and kisses her cheek as well. She wrinkles her nose at him, grinning, and he wrinkles his right back.
"We're making muffins!" Jean tells him. "Erik told us how to do it, but we made them ourselves, me and Scott."
"That's wonderful," Charles says. To Erik and Ororo, he adds, "And what are you two making?"
"Eggs?" Ororo says, looking up at Erik.
"Quiche," Erik corrects her. "Angel made some extra pie crusts last night and said I could have them for quiche. One spinach and cheese and one bacon and cheese."
"And your army of kitchen recruits?" Charles asks, smoothing back Ororo's hair as she stirs an egg and milk mixture with a whisk.
"Ororo was already up when I woke," Erik says. "When Jean and Scott joined us, I thought it best to put them to work."
"I think they have laws against that, now," Charles remarks, watching with never-ceasing wonder as Jean, finished filling the tins, carefully lifts them telekinetically and floats them towards the oven. The fluidity with which the oven door opens leads Charles to believe that part is Erik's doing, but the tins slip inside without incident and Jean smiles radiantly.
"I did it!" she says.
"That was brilliant," Charles tells her. "Well done, Jean! Very good!"
"You're getting better," Erik remarks without inflection, but Jean understands the weight behind the rare compliment and her smile brightens further. "Now, if the two of you would place the fillings in the pie crusts, Ororo and I will finish with the eggs." He turns to Charles and says, "You can make coffee."
He touches Charles' wrist, fleeting and warm and chased by an absent projection of Erik's current feelings--tired, hungry, content, loved. It's enough to give Charles pause. He stops walking and turns back to Erik, who is peering into Ororo's bowl and taking the whisk from her to mix it himself.
Erik is happy. He's content and loved and not on the precipice of leaving, not warily considering his options or waiting for the next catastrophe. He's exhausted debating politics until midnight, sore from the sex that followed, cautious of Ororo's balance on the counter, proud of Jean's display of power, worried that Scott will never see himself as more than destruction, and unquestionably sure that this is where he belongs. Not just in this moment, but for as long as he can manage. It's not even a full conscious thought, just a bone-deep awareness that blankets his mind. Charles hasn't even truly noticed it before now.
Charles is still leery of embarrassing himself in front of the others, but Jean doesn't mind, Scott's discomfort is the minor embarrassment of watching something not meant for him, and for all her giggling, Ororo doesn't even know it's something to be ashamed of, so Charles turns on his heel and takes the whisk from Erik's hand, kissing him again and then once more.
Erik's hand settles at his waist when he pulls back. He's smiling, confused, affectionately exasperated.
"Yes?" he asks mildly.
"Nothing," Charles says. "I'm just happy you're here."
"I am too," Erik says. He pushes Charles gently backwards. "Go make coffee."
Charles steps out of Erik's grip as Scott complains that there's too much kissing and Jean concentrates on spreading the grated cheese evenly over the bacon in her pie crust.
Charles was right; going to the kitchen was an infinitely better choice than going back to sleep.
*
the rest of the days:
1. Holding hands
2. Cuddling somewhere
3. Gaming/watching a movie
4. On a date
5. Kissing
6. Wearing each others’ clothes
7. Shopping
8. Hanging out with friends
9. Making out
10. Eating icecream
11. In a different clothing style
12. During their morning ritual(s)
13. Spooning
14. Doing something together
15. In formal wear
16. Dancing
17. Cooking/baking
18. In battle, side-by-side
19. Arguing
20. Making up afterwards
21. Getting married
22. On one of their birthdays
23. Doing something ridiculous
24. Doing something sweet
25. Doing something hot