Chapter 12
The first thing Scott became aware of was that his bed was
shaking. The second thing he realized was that there was someone else in his
room. His eyes flew open, and he was greeted by the sight of Jean's grinning
face. She was sitting on the edge of the mattress dressed in her nightshirt and
a thick blue terry cloth robe, bouncing up and down slightly. He raised an
eyebrow at her questioningly.
"What are you doing?" he asked in confused amusement, his voice rough
from sleep.
She grinned wider. "It's Christmas!"
"Yeah...?"
"It's Christmas!" she said again, bouncing harder. "Get
up!"
Scott laughed at her excitement, and glanced at his alarm clock. "Jean,
it's seven o'clock."
"I know. Get up!" she ordered, standing and trying to drag him from
the bed. He refused to move, instead pulling her down onto the bed next to him.
"How old are you – five? Lie down and go back to sleep for two more hours.
Then we'll get up," he told her.
Jean's lower lip protruded in a pout, and Scott suddenly had a very good idea
of how Jean must have looked as a little girl. He moved further over on the bed
to make room for her, and she reluctantly lay down next to him, his arm curled
behind her and her head pillowed on his chest. He kissed her forehead and then
quickly drifted back to sleep, the comforting warmth of Jean curled against his
side.
Scott was the first to wake. He looked down at Jean, sleeping peacefully
against him, and was overwhelmed by the strength of his feelings for her. She
literally made his heart ache. He grinned to himself at the corniness of the
sentiment, but felt no embarrassment. It was simply the way he felt, and he
would make no excuses for it.
"Jean," he said softly, trying to rouse her from sleep as gently as
he could. She shifted slightly, pressing herself closer to him and muttering
something incomprehensible.
"Come on, Jean, you're the one who wanted to get up early," Scott
chuckled as Jean groaned. "Don't you want to go downstairs to open
presents?"
"Hmmm-hmm," she murmured in the affirmative, her face pressed into
Scott's shoulder as she stretched lazily. "But I'm kinda
liking where I am right now," she admitted, looking up at him though
sleepy eyes, a smile curling her lips. She snuggled closer. "Presents can
wait, cuddling can't."
Scott snickered. "You know exactly how cute you are when you do things
like that, don't you?"
She shook her head in emphatic denial, her hair tickling Scott's chin.
"You're such a brat," he chuckled. "C'mon, get up. Go back to
your room, have a shower, and we'll meet downstairs in
half an hour. By then the Professor and Hank should be up – if they aren't
already – and we'll open presents."
Jean heaved a grand sigh and sat up, glaring at Scott. "Fine.
Just know that you passed up on some quality cuddling," she announced as
she got out of bed and crossed the room.
"Rain check? Tonight, maybe?" he called
after her, hopeful.
"We'll just have to see," she teased, letting herself out of his
room.
Jean bounded down the stairs 20 minutes later, hair still slightly damn from
her shower. She'd always loved Christmas, and was especially excited because in
all the years she'd been at the Institute, this was the first one she got to
spend there – and, more specifically, the first one she got to spend with
Scott.
Professor Xavier was the only one in the common room when she arrived.
"Merry Christmas, Professor," she greeted him, hugging him and
kissing his cheek.
"And to you, my dear," Xavier replied, smiling warmly at her.
"Henry is preparing breakfast - it should be ready shortly. Will Scott be joining
us?"
His question caused Jean to blush, though there was no real reason for it.
"Yes, he should be here any minute."
"Jean," Charles began gently, trying not to let his amusement show.
"I know you spent the earlier part of this morning with him. It's fine.
Quite honestly, I'm surprised you haven't spent more nights together – you did
it often enough when you were younger."
"Professor –" Jean tried to interject, thoroughly embarrassed at what
her mentor was implying.
He held up a hand to quiet her. "All I am saying, Jean, is that both of
you are old and mature enough to make your own decisions, and to take
responsibility for those decisions. Believe it or not, I do remember what it
was like to be young and in love," he told her with an uncharacteristic
wink.
She smiled sheepishly at him, blushing the color of
her hair. "Thank you, Professor."
Scott appeared a few moments later, followed by Hank calling everyone for
breakfast. After a buffet of bacon, sausage, eggs, pancakes, French toast and
fresh fruit, the foursome regrouped in the common room to open presents. There
were a remarkable number of presents under the tree considering there were only
four of them. Curious, Jean peered at a couple of the parcels as she passed by
and realized they were from her parents – they'd arrived
my courier the day before. They'd even sent a gift for Scott, she was thrilled
to see.
"I told you my mom didn't have anything personal against you – she's just
like that with everyone," Jean said smugly as he held up the (expensive)
black wool sweater the Greys had sent him. Scott was
very pleased, but tried not to show how much it mattered to him that Jean's
parents accepted him.
The afternoon was spent watching Christmas specials on television and listening
to holiday music, while Jean and Scott took turns helping Hank make dinner.
After a classic Christmas feast of roast turkey and all the trimmings, they
opened the Trivial Pursuit game Jean had received from her soon-to-be
brother-in-law and played two rounds. Unsurprisingly, Dr. McCoy won both times.
The grown-ups retired late in the evening, leaving Jean and Scott in the common
room watching the live-action version of The Grinch.
"So, did you have a good Christmas?" Scott asked. He and Jean were
lying on the sofa much like they'd been that morning in his bed. Scott had one
arm propped behind his head, the other was lightly
stroking Jean's side through her light-weight shirt.
"Hmmm-hmmm," Jean murmured contentedly. "You?"
"No complaints," he told her, squeezing her gently with one
arm. They were quiet for a long time, watching as Little Cindy-Lou Who tried to
convert the Grinch from him evil grinchy
ways.
"Y'know what?" Jean asked suddenly.
"What?"
"Everyone's asleep."
Scott glanced down at her, an eyebrow arched. "And...?"
"And, I was just thinking maybe we could get in a little quality time
together," she said with a slow smile.
"Are you asking me to make out with you?" he teased.
Jean pretended to think about it, then nodded slowly.
"Yeah, I guess I am."
"Gladly," he told her before rolling onto his side and covering her
mouth with his. They necked for a long while, unhurried in their efforts.
Scott's hands roamed her back, finding the hem of her shirt un-tucked from the
back of her pants. He cautiously slid his hand up under the fabric to caress
her bare back. Her skin was even softer than he'd imagined.
Jean arched into him, obviously enjoying the caress. She
hooked her leg over Scott's thigh and rolled them over slightly so that she was
lying mostly on her back with Scott lying partly on top of her. With the shift
in position, Scott found his hand on the bare skin of her stomach. He started
to withdraw his hand, afraid of making Jean uncomfortable. Her hand on his
wrist stopped him.
*Is this ok?* he sent to her, knowing she'd hear him. He didn't want to have to
break the kiss.
*Yes,* she replied firmly, kissing him fiercely.
Scott's hand slid slowly across Jean's midriff, but movement was restricted by
her shirt. Scott withdrew his hand and absently plucked at the buttons.
*Go ahead,* she answered his unasked question. Fumbling with one hand he slowly
popped one button from its hole, then another, and another, until every one was
freed. His hand trembled as he gently pushed aside one of half of her shirt,
then the other. He had to break the kiss – he had to look at her.
She gazed up at him through half-closed eyes, lips swollen from their kisses,
hair slightly messed. Her face was flushed, and he followed the coloration down
her neck to her chest, and his breath caught. She was wearing a white cotton
and lace bra, and her breasts were perfect globes rising above the lace edges.
The pale skin of her chest was covered in a light dusting of freckles,
a larger slightly darker one nestled perfectly between her breasts. He raised
his hand and ran his fingers feather-softly across her skin, and she sucked in
a shaky breath.
"I love you," he whispered, before leaning down and kissing the base
of her throat. His lips trailed across her collar bones, her shoulders, and
across her chest, until he finally kissed the rounded tops of her breasts.
Scott moved suddenly to capture her lips again, his hand continuing the caress
of her body where his kisses were moments ago. He fully cupped one of her
breasts, squeezing gently, rubbing his thumb over her nipple through the fabric
of her bra. Jean gasped and arched fully into his hand, urging him on with her
kiss. Jean unsuccessfully fought back a moan of pleasure and wove her fingers
through Scott's hair.
Their heads were clouding with rising passion, and suddenly neither of them
could remember why they'd decided to take things slowly.
~~
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