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Fic: Seductions
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3_ships, I drew ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
joanne_c. Now I knew the lady in question really wanted Clark/Lana/Whitney, but I couldn't figure out a way to make that work. So I did her second choice, an X-Men story, which I figured I could work with. It's Jean/Charles/Scott, but not in a squicky way. And there's a bonus side of Charles/Erik. My first venture into the X-Men universe. I hope it's not the last.
Seductions
Jean liked him. Scott was sure of it. But the red-haired girl was painfully shy, almost unable to be in the same room with him for more than a minute. When conferences with the Professor called for it, she wouldn't look at Scott. She spoke only to Professor Xavier, using telepathy as often as her voice. Etiquette and protocol for telepaths was still in its infancy, but Scott was sure that leaving the non-'paths out of a conversation was impolite.
Still, she was pretty, and the trauma at least gave her an excuse. Scott went about his studies, and let Xavier teach him to control his eyes.
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Jean slumped in the hall after yet another meeting. She was too exhausted to even flee to her rooms. When she closed her eyes, all she saw was Scott. No boy had ever affected her like this and she wasn't sure she could talk to the Professor about the way she felt. He wasn't a silly teenage girl. He didn't get all hot and cold and feel like his liver was melting around anyone.
//You aren't silly, my dear. You're having what's called a crush. It's the first stage of falling in love.//
//Professor?// She flinched from the voice in her head. It was kind, but she hadn't contacted him. Eavesdropping was unconscionably rude among telepaths.
//Indeed. You were broadcasting to me so loudly it was hardly eavesdropping. I know the signs of love even without listening. I have been in love before, Jean.//
She found the energy to walk back to her room, listening to her mentor's voice all the way. Knowing there were concepts, words even, for what she felt, helped immeasurably. She should have know better than to hide it. Professor Xavier always knew best. He would always take care of her. He knew about everything: her powers, how to find her when she hid, how to care for her when she had no idea how to care for herself. Knowing he had been in love made her feel confident she could weather this storm too.
In the next weeks, Jean found she could look at Scott without getting flustered and turning red. Her tongue didn't tangle itself up around him. She suspected Professor Xavier, but he denied any knowledge of her newfound confidence. As days passed, she sat with Scott at meals and talked to him.
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It was a sunny afternoon and Scott asked her to walk with him in the gardens. Well away from the mansion, under a rose trellis, he caught her in his arms and kissed her before she could think or protest. It was just a quick buss, and he let her go quickly. It was a signal of interest, not a full expression of it.
Jean covered her mouth with one hand and fled to the mansion without a word. Scott sat on the bench, wondering if he'd blown all his chances.
//Wearing a hole in your carpet will not solve your problem, Jean.//
//Professor, can I come see you?// Jean realized it had gotten dark and she'd missed dinner. She'd paced and thought and thought and paced and relived the kiss a thousand times this afternoon.
//My door is always open. And there just might be// she could hear the amusement in his mindvoice //a plate of sandwiches and some tea awaiting a young lady who forgot to join us for dinner.//
Jean composed herself as best she could and walked down to Professor Xavier's study.
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Children, Charles thought watching Jean leave, reassured and full of sandwiches. They think every emotion is one they invented. This would be easier if Jean had grown up on technicolor fantasies and romance novels. She would at least have some concept of what she was experiencing. But he loved his star pupil and almost-daughter as she was: intelligent, strong and without the vapidity that such mental popcorn tended to create. Instead, she planned the seduction as she would a military campaign, making each move with the same precision she had used when placing the little tin soldiers on maps as a child.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jean knocked on Scott's door. It was only 8. He would still be up. She firmly squelched all the nagging doubts that he wouldn't open it.
"Jean?"
"Hi. I came by to apologize for running out on you this afternoon."
//Excellent, Jean. Keep going.//
Despite the reassurance, Jean was horrified at the way the next words rushed out of her mouth. "You surprised me. I didn't know you felt that way, I mean I hoped, because I feel that way—"
Scott did the only sensible thing and kissed her. "I could tell," he said when he let her go.
Guided by Xavier's voice in her head, Jean smiled and said "Can I come in? We're going to look silly out here in the hall."
"Are you supposed to be in a boy's room after curfew?"
"I have special permission." She tossed her head, making her long red hair catch the light. So far the Professor had been right about everything, even if this move did feel silly and false.
//Men are delighted by long hair on women, Jean. And yours is very beautiful and healthy. Combine that with the legends of redheads that Scott has no doubt heard—//
//Professor, what now?//
On his directions, Jean leaned in closer to Scott and kissed him. "You see, I'm not always scared."
"Is that why you're shaking?" Scott could feel the tremors wracking her. She was terrified. Given what he knew, it wasn't surprising. The last person she had been close to had nearly pulled her into death.
She smiled again and said the words the professor was giving her. "I'm nervous." She looked at the floor, then very carefully up through her lashes at him. "And excited." Then she kissed him again, taking care to follow the directive to nibble a bit at his lower lip as she pulled away.
"Jean—"
"Shhhh." She laid two fingers over his mouth and then slid one between his lips,.
Scott pulled away. "This isn't you, Jean. This is just weird."
"I love you."
He took her by the shoulders and said, "I think I love you too, but I think you're rushing things."
"I'm nineteen, and today was the first time I'd ever been kissed."
"You're definitely rushing things." He led her over to a loveseat near the window. It was dark, but she knew she had a fine view of the rose gardens. They sat together, and he wrapped one arm around her.
Jean nestled into his shoulder, staring out over the dark lawns. //What now, Professor? The direct approach didn't work.//
//I'm sorry, my dear. I thought it was what he would expect. Let's see where this goes. You might start by putting a very light kiss on his neck.//
Jean did, and felt Scott relax a bit into her. She didn't press, just rested her head on his shoulder, and let him cuddle her. This was nice, very nice.
//It's even nicer on a sweet spring evening with the honeysuckle just blooming. Or on a hot desert afternoon, watching the heat ripple across the sands.//
//Professor! I think I can handle it from here.//
//Very well.//
Jean felt her mentor's mind withdraw from hers, about the same time Scott's arm withdrew. She sat up straight and watched him walk to the window. She got up and followed, wrapping one arm around his waist.
"You're right. It is too soon," she said. "But, time passes, and someday, it won't be too soon."
Scott smiled at her and kissed her hard. She opened for him, his tongue a strange presence in her mouth, yet one that sent shivers all over her body to collect on her upper arms and lower belly.
This was what she had really wanted, what she had hoped for since the day she'd seen him. This and more.
She let him coax her tongue out and along his teeth. He tasted of peppermint. She plunged deeper, looking for any trace of Scott under the toothpaste
"You're right," he said, at length. "Someday." He kissed her, several light, small ones in quick succession. "But when the day comes, you won't have to seduce me. I'll be willing."
She kissed him again, and closed the door behind her as she left.
Charles Xavier sat alone in his study and remembered other kisses and other pledges of "someday." He smiled at the remembered tastes: tastes of Erik, and more recently of Scott. Jean would do fine on her own next time.
3_ships, I drew joanne_c. Now I knew the lady in question really wanted Clark/Lana/Whitney, but I couldn't figure out a way to make that work. So I did her second choice, an X-Men story, which I figured I could work with. It's Jean/Charles/Scott, but not in a squicky way. And there's a bonus side of Charles/Erik. My first venture into the X-Men universe. I hope it's not the last.Seductions
Jean liked him. Scott was sure of it. But the red-haired girl was painfully shy, almost unable to be in the same room with him for more than a minute. When conferences with the Professor called for it, she wouldn't look at Scott. She spoke only to Professor Xavier, using telepathy as often as her voice. Etiquette and protocol for telepaths was still in its infancy, but Scott was sure that leaving the non-'paths out of a conversation was impolite.
Still, she was pretty, and the trauma at least gave her an excuse. Scott went about his studies, and let Xavier teach him to control his eyes.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jean slumped in the hall after yet another meeting. She was too exhausted to even flee to her rooms. When she closed her eyes, all she saw was Scott. No boy had ever affected her like this and she wasn't sure she could talk to the Professor about the way she felt. He wasn't a silly teenage girl. He didn't get all hot and cold and feel like his liver was melting around anyone.
//You aren't silly, my dear. You're having what's called a crush. It's the first stage of falling in love.//
//Professor?// She flinched from the voice in her head. It was kind, but she hadn't contacted him. Eavesdropping was unconscionably rude among telepaths.
//Indeed. You were broadcasting to me so loudly it was hardly eavesdropping. I know the signs of love even without listening. I have been in love before, Jean.//
She found the energy to walk back to her room, listening to her mentor's voice all the way. Knowing there were concepts, words even, for what she felt, helped immeasurably. She should have know better than to hide it. Professor Xavier always knew best. He would always take care of her. He knew about everything: her powers, how to find her when she hid, how to care for her when she had no idea how to care for herself. Knowing he had been in love made her feel confident she could weather this storm too.
In the next weeks, Jean found she could look at Scott without getting flustered and turning red. Her tongue didn't tangle itself up around him. She suspected Professor Xavier, but he denied any knowledge of her newfound confidence. As days passed, she sat with Scott at meals and talked to him.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a sunny afternoon and Scott asked her to walk with him in the gardens. Well away from the mansion, under a rose trellis, he caught her in his arms and kissed her before she could think or protest. It was just a quick buss, and he let her go quickly. It was a signal of interest, not a full expression of it.
Jean covered her mouth with one hand and fled to the mansion without a word. Scott sat on the bench, wondering if he'd blown all his chances.
//Wearing a hole in your carpet will not solve your problem, Jean.//
//Professor, can I come see you?// Jean realized it had gotten dark and she'd missed dinner. She'd paced and thought and thought and paced and relived the kiss a thousand times this afternoon.
//My door is always open. And there just might be// she could hear the amusement in his mindvoice //a plate of sandwiches and some tea awaiting a young lady who forgot to join us for dinner.//
Jean composed herself as best she could and walked down to Professor Xavier's study.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Children, Charles thought watching Jean leave, reassured and full of sandwiches. They think every emotion is one they invented. This would be easier if Jean had grown up on technicolor fantasies and romance novels. She would at least have some concept of what she was experiencing. But he loved his star pupil and almost-daughter as she was: intelligent, strong and without the vapidity that such mental popcorn tended to create. Instead, she planned the seduction as she would a military campaign, making each move with the same precision she had used when placing the little tin soldiers on maps as a child.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jean knocked on Scott's door. It was only 8. He would still be up. She firmly squelched all the nagging doubts that he wouldn't open it.
"Jean?"
"Hi. I came by to apologize for running out on you this afternoon."
//Excellent, Jean. Keep going.//
Despite the reassurance, Jean was horrified at the way the next words rushed out of her mouth. "You surprised me. I didn't know you felt that way, I mean I hoped, because I feel that way—"
Scott did the only sensible thing and kissed her. "I could tell," he said when he let her go.
Guided by Xavier's voice in her head, Jean smiled and said "Can I come in? We're going to look silly out here in the hall."
"Are you supposed to be in a boy's room after curfew?"
"I have special permission." She tossed her head, making her long red hair catch the light. So far the Professor had been right about everything, even if this move did feel silly and false.
//Men are delighted by long hair on women, Jean. And yours is very beautiful and healthy. Combine that with the legends of redheads that Scott has no doubt heard—//
//Professor, what now?//
On his directions, Jean leaned in closer to Scott and kissed him. "You see, I'm not always scared."
"Is that why you're shaking?" Scott could feel the tremors wracking her. She was terrified. Given what he knew, it wasn't surprising. The last person she had been close to had nearly pulled her into death.
She smiled again and said the words the professor was giving her. "I'm nervous." She looked at the floor, then very carefully up through her lashes at him. "And excited." Then she kissed him again, taking care to follow the directive to nibble a bit at his lower lip as she pulled away.
"Jean—"
"Shhhh." She laid two fingers over his mouth and then slid one between his lips,.
Scott pulled away. "This isn't you, Jean. This is just weird."
"I love you."
He took her by the shoulders and said, "I think I love you too, but I think you're rushing things."
"I'm nineteen, and today was the first time I'd ever been kissed."
"You're definitely rushing things." He led her over to a loveseat near the window. It was dark, but she knew she had a fine view of the rose gardens. They sat together, and he wrapped one arm around her.
Jean nestled into his shoulder, staring out over the dark lawns. //What now, Professor? The direct approach didn't work.//
//I'm sorry, my dear. I thought it was what he would expect. Let's see where this goes. You might start by putting a very light kiss on his neck.//
Jean did, and felt Scott relax a bit into her. She didn't press, just rested her head on his shoulder, and let him cuddle her. This was nice, very nice.
//It's even nicer on a sweet spring evening with the honeysuckle just blooming. Or on a hot desert afternoon, watching the heat ripple across the sands.//
//Professor! I think I can handle it from here.//
//Very well.//
Jean felt her mentor's mind withdraw from hers, about the same time Scott's arm withdrew. She sat up straight and watched him walk to the window. She got up and followed, wrapping one arm around his waist.
"You're right. It is too soon," she said. "But, time passes, and someday, it won't be too soon."
Scott smiled at her and kissed her hard. She opened for him, his tongue a strange presence in her mouth, yet one that sent shivers all over her body to collect on her upper arms and lower belly.
This was what she had really wanted, what she had hoped for since the day she'd seen him. This and more.
She let him coax her tongue out and along his teeth. He tasted of peppermint. She plunged deeper, looking for any trace of Scott under the toothpaste
"You're right," he said, at length. "Someday." He kissed her, several light, small ones in quick succession. "But when the day comes, you won't have to seduce me. I'll be willing."
She kissed him again, and closed the door behind her as she left.
Charles Xavier sat alone in his study and remembered other kisses and other pledges of "someday." He smiled at the remembered tastes: tastes of Erik, and more recently of Scott. Jean would do fine on her own next time.