Jean leans into the warmth of Scott's back. Warm, familiar, safe, home.
Less than an hour ago, she'd been in bed with another man. She'd been having sex with another man. With Logan. She's amazed at herself, at her audacity, a nice girl like her...
It had seemed, in theory, a good idea, the way to cut through the Gordian Knot of tangled relationship between them. Her, Scott, Logan, the esteemed Ms Frost, there was hurt and blame on all sides. Of course, any X-Men relationships were always complicated by people being dead for certain periods too, convoluted didn't even start to cover it, it would make any relationship councillor take to drink, they had to work it out for themselves.
She's still ticked at Logan. "Why the hell didn't he say something when we were all talking about this? Why didn't he mention Kurt?"
Scott rolls over, his arms move round her. There's no hesitation, no feeling of disgust that she's been in another man's bed so recently. He rests his chin on top of her head. "I think you're expecting too much from him."
"What? Expecting him to think about someone other than himself? Than him wanting me?" She's furious on Kurt's behalf. Scott's quiet for a minute, not wanting an argument.
"I agree that Logan is being... well, Logan, but I don't think he's trying to hurt anyone, I just don't think he analyses how he feels the way you do." He's trying to find a way to make her see. "Logan's emotions are pretty basic; fight, food, family and, er, fornicate."
She smiles, he's too embarrassed to use the word 'fuck' in front of her, which given their current circumstances is ridiculous. "So I know where I come in the pecking order."
He sighs, "I'm trying to help." He is, she gives him an encouraging squeeze. "Kurt sort of falls between two of those, in Logan's head, he's family but there's also the..."
"Fornicating?" He nods, it's strange, she thinks, the power words have. Scott's almost as disturbed by the idea of Logan having sex with Kurt as he is with the thought of him with her. Scott's feelings towards Kurt always carry a flavour of his feelings towards Alex, once a big brother, always a big brother.
And he's willing to put all his doubts aside to see if this will work. Well, that and Emma Frost. She's so proud of him. She loves him so much for this.
He continues, "And, before you go in all guns blazing to stand up for Kurt, I think you'd better check on how he feels? You're kinda assuming he's hurt, but you don't really know that? He's much more... complicated than Logan. Do I mean complicated? Self aware? I don't know, but I do know that you're working off how you'd feel in his position, not how he actually feels. They've been seeing other people while in a relationship for years. For all you know, he might be fine, he might have 27 new girlfriends lined up in the wings." He yawns and they settle into quiet companionship.
She thinks about that, drifting off towards sleep. And none of this helps with Logan being a possessive little shit...
She meets Ororo at eight.
"...So I threw the idiot out." Jean is still fuming, stirring the sugar into the foam on her not-quite-coffee with undue vigour.
Ororo is serene, as always, sipping her tea.
"I think you're right to settle it straight on."
"Oh, I know how to deal with his macho bullshit. He does not get to own me, but I'm also annoyed at Kurt; he'd never let anyone else treat him like that." Kurt, as far as anyone can tell, doesn't have a macho bone in his body, that doesn't mean he's a pushover and he has his own ways of making himself heard over the waves of machismo and overload of testosterone which wash around him; his sarcastic tongue can raise welts.
"Logan would never let anyone else treat Kurt in such a caviller manner either."
Jean sighs. "He'd flatten anyone who tried. It's been bugging me for ages, I just didn't feel I had the right to say anything. Well, now I do. For better or for worse." She looks over at Ororo. "Am I doing the right thing? It seemed like a good idea but it's getting more and more complicated."
"I cannot answer that simply, my dear sister," she squeezes Jean's hand. "I think you must do what feels right. But with regards to the matter at hand, I think Scott is also correct, Kurt is a complex person, no matter how well you know him, you never quite get to understand him; he likes women but never seems to go looking for anything permanent, he doesn't seem to be sexually interested in men, but he is interested in Logan."
"Hah, Bobby says he just has as a type."
"Let me guess, a most specific type, about five foot three, grumpy demeanor, smelling of bike oil and cigars?"
"That's the one."
"But he's generally happy in his choices."
"Is he?"
"I think so. He just carries on, regardless of what the world believes he should do or think or be. Never underestimate him, Jean." Ororo and Kurt have been friends for a very long time, there's relaxed comfort between them, no drama, no fuss, just warmth.
"How did you deal with it, when you were with Logan?"
Ororo smiles. "Very simple, we just talked about it."
"The three of you?"
"Blessed Goddess, no! Kurt and I talked, we came to an arrangement." The smile is enigmatic now, Ororo is not one to kiss and tell, but Jean is the foremost telepath in the place and, oh my, the flash of passion is still hot. "Logan isn't the one in charge of their relationship, you know."
Ororo gets up to leave.
"Just don't try to put Kurt in a box, based on what you think he wants."
"Because he will just teleport out of it anyway?"
"Indeed, and then sit on the edge of it."
"Trying to decide if it would look better painted orange?"
Ororo laughs. "Good heavens, no, Jean, orange would clash with his fur."
Kurt comes into the cafe and is immediately stopped by someone wanting to talk with him, a middle aged gamma woman with slimy, grey, snake like hair and a child on her hip, Jean doesn't recognise her. Then a couple of the random kids who are running about underfoot grab his hands and he crouches down to talk with them too. He eventually gets away and walks over to her table. He has quite a fan club, particularly with the gammas, she suddenly realises that no one comes up to her or anyone else on the Council quite like that. He's approachable and one of them, he has a smile or a word for everyone.
He sways when he walks, tail swinging in gracefully counterweight. Always graceful. He's so self assured, she thinks, standing up to kiss his cheek, so sure of himself and his place in the universe, the smile, the squeeze of her hand, it would simply be a crime to dent that calm. Like she might be about to.
And then she catches the undercurrents, the way a telepath does, and it's a quite clear, quite near the surface, the warm ache of pleasure, given and received. It's quite clear what Kurt has been doing, with Logan, who she had thrown out of her bed, before she went back to Scott's bed. Oh.
Suddenly, she's lost control of the situation, out of her depth, in deep and murky water.
She had been poised to be gracious, to be the one in charge, to be the one who would kindly grant them access to each other, despite her plans.
Except Kurt clearly doesn't need her permission to carry on with a relationship he's had for years. He's gone off script before they've even started.
Anyone else, literally anyone, and she would have suspected some malice in doing that, but it's Kurt, his feelings aren't concealed and they aren't tinged with malice or anger or control or anything other than the simple pleasures of good sex. And now, being pleased to see her, his friend.
He senses her confusion, but guesses incorrectly at the source. "Guten morgan, Jean." He slides into the seat. "I left Logan in the gym, I thought we'd get along better without his help, he'll be along in a while."
"Of course." She's still fumbling slightly with the new status quo. "It's lovely to see you."
She's saved by the waitress bringing over a milky not-quite-coffee for Kurt, he's not ordered it, she clearly knows what he drinks. The woman's not particularly pretty or young but she gets herself that megawatt smile and charm and she glows under his attention.
He asks her where she's from. Toulouse, so he slips effortlessly into her language. Jean's long neglected high school French can just about keep up. Does she mind coming here to paradise, just to be a waitress? No, she was a waitress at home but here she doesn't have to worry about being beaten up or sacked just because she's different. But she's missing her boyfriend, her family. He nods, encouraging, sympathetic, warm, it's so easy to him, Jean thinks, he's wasted, dressed in spandex, hitting bad guys, he's the one who should be at the UN or the G10, except, of course, he looks as he does. So much wasted potential.
The waitress, Stéphane, clears away Ororo's tea cup and Jean's coffee cup, she meets Jean's eye. Another? She nods, Jean has a feeling she might need all the not-quite-coffee on Krakoa.
"So," he looks over the cup at her, then leans forward with a conspiratorial whisper "I hear you are setting up a harem? How marvellous! Or rather a seraglio, even more scandalous! And would like discuss with me engaging the services of one Mr Howlett?"
She stares back while her brain processes his words. And then he winks and she loses her composure, she swipes at his arm, laughing. "Oh. Oh, you sod, you absolute sod of a man."
"What?" He batts his eyes and feigns innocence.
Stéphane brings Jean's coffee and Kurt orders an unfeasibly large amount of food.
"I should have guessed something was afoot when he told me he loved me, it quite disarmed me." He pats her hand, gently. "Poor Logan, you have him all confused."
"Poor Logan!?" She's aghast.
Kurt sips his coffee, still looking at her. "Yes, poor Logan. Think about it Jean, he works on emotion, almost entirely on how he feels, without nuance, without subtlety. He's dynamic, not reflective and we are confusing him, we're asking him to hold back and think and consider and he really is trying. But he's not very good at it. Yet."
"You seem very sure about him, about what he's thinks."
He tilts his head, it would be so easy to get distracted by those eyes, she knows how lost in them Logan gets. "My dear lady, I've had years of this. Years of trying to decipher what he wants, what he feels, because he never knows. He expects me to. To tell him how he feels, why he feels that way. To make sense of it for him."
She knows this, how had she forgotten? Kurt is Logan's confessor, confidant and, frequently, co-conspirator. Their friendship is deep and long-standing and built on firmer foundation than some marriages.
She takes his hand. "You're okay? Okay with this, with me and Scott and Emma?"
"That part is none of my business, Jean." He looks down at his coffee, clearly considering his next words. "Logan is many things, to many people, he is my best friend and I will never not love him and I will always be there for him, but I don't always like him very much, or what he does, or what others ask him to do. I like what we have, it suits us, it works for us, it is important to me but I've never wanted a monogamous, one to one relationship with him, with anyone. It's not perfect; when he's not in my bed, he sometimes forgets." His voice is quiet but forceful and sensual. "But I make him remember." He is not going to let this relationship go, and, Jean realises she has to practice what she preaches; Kurt is as important as she is, as any of them are. But he's not angry or hurt, they're still holding hands and his emotions are crystal clear and pure, he kisses her hand.
"If being with you makes him happy, makes you happy, helps heal old hurts, that's good, that makes me happy too. I don't own him, he doesn't own me, but I have faith that what we have will endure. And, if not, we will still be friends, we don't know anything else to be with each other."
The food arrives, there is enough for five.
Kurt has what looks like ham and cheese on a croissant, clearly the steaming pile of meat wasn't ordered for himself. Krakoa is getting pretty good at mimicking human food, whether the meat is actually meat is quite another matter.
"There are ways to handle him." Kurt sounds contemplative. "He's so... straightforward, bulls right through any nuance or subtlety. So, in one way, you have to be straight with him, don't allude, don't hint; he will never understand and you'll both just get annoyed. But also, you have to be the subtle one, you can guide him to where you want him to go, if you are clever enough."
"Clever enough to let him think he's the one in charge?"
"Exactly" Another wink. Then he's suddenly serious. "He's older than me, Jean, stronger, he could have forced me into things, I won't allow him to do that, but I don't go head to head with him, I turn aside the aggression, the power. I let him think he has the control but I pick my battles, and often, it's easier to evade, rather than confront.
I'm not sure that will work the same way for you? You have started on the right foot though; he cannot possess you, do not allow him to start and do not allow yourself to be defined by anyone else. I never have, I never will.
I won't lie, Jean, it won't always be easy. Logan is a difficult man, but he's worth the work." The warmth of the memory of their recent sex rises in him, there's no shame, no hint of embarrassment, she wishes she could be so confident, she's jealous of his certainty in himself.
"Best he is at what he does?"
There's a delicate sniff. "So he'd like to think. It's up to us to keep him on his toes, can't have him getting complacent. And," he indicates the pair of them, "we're not too shabby at what we do, either."
"Oh," he says, as an afterthought. "I asked him recently if we could bring our relationship more out into the open; we always kept it quiet because we felt it might be dangerous if Wolverine's enemies knew about me, but here, on the Island, we should be safe."
Jean has ordered granola and yogurt, Krakoa has provided something almost recognisable. "Hm, that's going to confuse people."
"Oh dear, what a shame, never mind." He waves his hand in the air, dismissively. "Let's keep them guessing."
"None of their business anyway? Why did I ever think you were a nice man, Mr Wagner?"
"Nice is overrated." he sniffs. "Ah, look, here is our stray lamb. Guten morgan, mein lieber."
Logan slouches over, bends down and kisses Jean's cheek. "Darlin'?" He's wary of her. Good.
Then slowly, and quite deliberately, he leans over and kisses Kurt's cheek. "Elf." In exactly the same tone, and, of course, meaning. Kurt smiles fondly at him as Logan sits and starts attacking the huge plate of fried meat.
She hears Kurt's thoughts quite, quite clearly.
**See, he can be civilised.**
**You are bad and wicked.**
**Mm, yes, but that's our little secret.**
"What?" Logan raises his head, puzzled by their silence, his mouth half full of sausage. "Jus' followin' orders."
He shakes his head and goes back to his food as the pair of them dissolve into a fit of giggles.