Jean and Scott - a First Date
Dec. 13th, 2017 06:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainJean surprises Scott with a date. He somehow manages not to scare her away with his awkward.
The text pinged on Scott's phone shortly after six in the evening.
JEAN: Hey, mystery man. Are you busy?
He texted back within seconds.
SCOTT: Mystery man? You must have me confused with someone else. But if he's not available, I'm free.
JEAN: I'll take you. Meet me in the garage in 20?
SCOTT: See you there.
He was actually there in fifteen minutes which, on reflection, he was pretty sure made him a dork of the highest level. Still, he hadn't wanted to keep Jean waiting. Besides, he was curious what she had in mind.
Jean had one of the workbenches cleared off and set up with a ton of McDonald's, a TV/DVD player combo that had to be almost as old as they were, and a pile of DVDs likely liberated from the rec room. Jean herself was in a navy blue dress and dark fleece tights; dressed nicely, but not dressy dressed.
"So..." She smiled at him, arms folded behind her back, praying she didn't look as nervous as she felt. "Asking people out on dates is fraught with danger. So... I figured I'd offer one? I promise, this is a totally low-stress thing. No entrapment intended."
Scott just stood there blinking at her for a moment, albeit behind the opaque red lenses of his glasses. "I....uh, you want...with me?" Yup. That had been smooth.
Way to go, Summers. If she did want to go out with you, she's probably seriously rethinking that choice now. Probably had to be a record for how fast he could mess something up.
Scott was such a dork sometimes that it was impossible not to relax around him. The butterflies waltzing around in Jean's belly dissipated.
"With you," she confirmed. "The pretty girl is treating you to dinner and a movie. Do you want in?"
"Absolutely." He was pretty sure it was not considered remotely cool to agree so quickly, but he couldn't quite help it. He couldn't help smiling a touch shyly either. At Jean. Who had asked him on a date and set the entire thing up. Which was probably not traditional, but still warmed him from the inside out. Still, he couldn't imagine what she saw in him, so he felt obligated to offer her a chance to back out, in case the reality wasn't quite matching up to what she'd wanted. "I mean, as long as you're sure."
"I'm sure if you're sure." That tone was just a little too innocent to be actually innocent. "And your fries are getting cold while you're deciding if you're sure."
"Can't have that," he said, nodding with feigned seriousness. He reached over and snatch a couple. "Cold fries are an abomination."
He'd never been on a date before, but if it just involved watching movies and eating with a girl he would gladly spend all of his time with anyway, it could only go well, right? Unless he fucked it up. Which was entirely possible, knowing him. "So, uh, where do you want me?"
There was something about that phrase that caused a little twinge down by Jean's heart. She didn't think it was a telepath thing, but she had to wonder when the last time was Scott had felt wanted. He'd hardly talked about his past at all where it didn't relate to Alex, but the impression she'd gotten was that none of it was happy. She reached for his hand.
"I want you sitting by me."
He blushed, but smiled as he took her hand and wove their fingers together. "I can do that." There was something comforting and familiar about her touch, but it also made his heart beat faster Excitement or nerves, or possibly both. Scott decided not to examine it too much. Instead, he sat down, gently tugging on Jean's hand so she'd join him.
Strike one against the First Date Planning Committee: Lack of forethought in seating. The stools in the garage were impossible to canoodle on. But that probably wasn't a bad thing in hindsight. It was a first date, after all.
Jean took her perch next to Scott and waved to the stack of DVDs. "Got a favorite?"
He shook his head 'no.' "I haven't seen many movies," Scott admitted. Well, other than the documentaries he'd been mainlining since he'd come to Xavier's. He smirked a little, "So I'm relying on you to steer me right here, Red. What's your favorite?"
"Oh nooooo," Jean groaned. "OK, I'm going to tell you. But only if you promise to believe this was in no way a set-up!"
He cocked an eyebrow curiously. "Okay, so this has to be good. But I promise not to question your motives," he said.
"Lady and the Tramp. And I mean it, Scott Summers. If you voice what you just thought, I will deck you."
He'd had so many thoughts in response that, he actually couldn't have said with certainty which one was going to get him laid out on the floor (and not in the way one would've guessed on a date). Still, Scott chuckled and held up his hands, letting go of hers for just a moment, in surrender. "I yield, Red. I'll keep it locked up." He grinned, though, unrepentant.
"Uh-huh." Jean pretended to pout at him, but the fact that Scott had relaxed so quickly sent fresh warmth tripping over her nerves. "You go ahead and smirk. You'll see what I mean when we watch it. You're lucky I didn't make pasta."
"If you say so," he said, smirk still firmly in place. Scott took her hand again, even as he used his free one to grab more fries. "Let's do it, Red. I want to see whatever this scene is.
------
A bit over an hour later, they were settled a little closer, knee to knee, still holding hands as the closing card came up on the movie. Jean glanced over at Scott, trying not to move her head too much.
"What did you think?"
Scott was entirely aware of two things. First, that this was Jean's favorite movie and so he was absolutely going to nothing other than compliment it. And second, he was aware of precisely how close together they were. He swallowed as he tried to steer his thoughts away from the shape of Jean's lips and his curiosity about how they might feel against his. "Uh, it was good," he managed to say.
She can read your mind, Summers, keep it together. She doesn't need to know your brain has the consistency of a triple-X dive.
"Oh." Well, it wasn't as if Scott was the most effusive guy in the world. And at least he hadn't seemed bored. "OK. Do you want to pick the next one?"
He nudged her knee with his own. "No, really. I liked it. The music was good."
Scott considered the pile of movies. "I don't know, Red. I'm enjoying getting this insight into you. You're just unfolding like a flower. Why don't you pick?"
The temptation to read Scott's mind had rarely been stronger; she honestly couldn't tell if he was being sincere or not. (And she really wanted him to be.)
"Hmm." Jean considered, leaning just a little more into him as she did. "Well, Lady and the Tramp is a classic. Maybe we could go a little more modern with the next one."
Scott refrained from saying so, but Lady and the Tramp had hit awkwardly close to home in a way that was disconcerting but...oddly reassuring? Here he was with Jean Grey, who was smart, and beautiful, and nice, and funny, and who had grown up - mutation-induced hospital time aside - in a world he could hardly imagine anymore.
He was a juvenile delinquent that but-for by the grace of Charles Xavier would have been in prison or six feet underground.
But that was Jean's favorite movie. She was clearly a romantic in that regard and....it gave him some hope that maybe, just maybe, the fact she was miles out of his league (they probably weren't playing the same sport) wouldn't bother her.
"Hmmmm...Aristocats, the Little Mermaid, or Aladdin?" He asked, reading through the titles of the movies she'd liberated that looked slightly more modern. As he leaned in to read the sides of the cases, he let go of her hand to slip his arm around her waist.
Yeah. He was smooth. And nervous. Don't make her uncomfortable you fuckwad. Are you creeping her out? Look over. Check, and prepare to apologize profusely.
Scott swallowed and glanced over at her, butterflies moshing in his stomach.
Jean's eyes were on the television, but the reason why was obvious as the discs began to float. But Jean was otherwise settling comfortably into the circle of his arm.
"Aladdin then. That's the most recent of the three."
He let out a breath he hadn't even been sure he'd been holding as he settled back more comfortably, Jean's warm weight both reassuring and incredibly exciting against his side. "Y'know watching you do that is never not impressive."
"That's because you're seeing the practiced version." The DVD tray slid open for the disc. The invisible hand levitating the disc dropped it into place, and the tray closed. "Trust me, it was a lot less impressive when random objects were flying around my parents' kitchen."
Scott shrugged, and when he realized what he was doing, forced himself to stop running his thumb over the soft fabric of her dress. He grabbed her hand again to stop himself. "I don't know, the whole moving-stuff-with-your mind thing is still pretty cool."
"So's the ability to level a house with an eyeblink." She smiled and squeezed his hand. "Totally different category of cool, but still pretty darn impressive. But not as cool as building a bike up from practically nothing."
He blushed a little at that but smiled, pleased that she found the bike impressive. The mutation thing, his mutation specifically, he wasn't sold on. But...he really was proud of that bike. "It wasn't that hard, she had good bones," he demurred. Still, it was clear how happy he was at the compliment.
"'She', hmm?" Jean smiled. "I'll bet she doesn't have a name either," she said, referencing one of their earliest meetings.
"Nope, no name," Scott admitted, but he smiled back at the memory. "I guess you'll have to find it in your heart to help me. She deserves better, after all."
He swallowed and offered something he'd never voluntarily and unprompted offered before. "I could, uh, could take you for a ride on her. If you wanted." He felt himself blush as he finished.
"I'd like that. I've never been on a motorcycle before." She shifted just enough to get a good look at his face. Everything was so... easy with Scott. Stable and safe, despite the crazy going on all around them. "You've still got a great smile, Summers. You keep this up and I'll start getting pushy about seeing more of it."
He couldn't help the shy but undoubtedly pleased smile in response to that. "Promise?" He teased. She had to know that her wanting to see him was never some kind of hardship. He pushed past a wave of fear of rejection, and admitted, "'Cause I'd kind of like to see more of yours."
"Easiest promise ever." Jean snuggled closer as best she could without toppling off her stool, and settled in to the combined warmth of Scott's surface emotions and their joined hands.
The text pinged on Scott's phone shortly after six in the evening.
JEAN: Hey, mystery man. Are you busy?
He texted back within seconds.
SCOTT: Mystery man? You must have me confused with someone else. But if he's not available, I'm free.
JEAN: I'll take you. Meet me in the garage in 20?
SCOTT: See you there.
He was actually there in fifteen minutes which, on reflection, he was pretty sure made him a dork of the highest level. Still, he hadn't wanted to keep Jean waiting. Besides, he was curious what she had in mind.
Jean had one of the workbenches cleared off and set up with a ton of McDonald's, a TV/DVD player combo that had to be almost as old as they were, and a pile of DVDs likely liberated from the rec room. Jean herself was in a navy blue dress and dark fleece tights; dressed nicely, but not dressy dressed.
"So..." She smiled at him, arms folded behind her back, praying she didn't look as nervous as she felt. "Asking people out on dates is fraught with danger. So... I figured I'd offer one? I promise, this is a totally low-stress thing. No entrapment intended."
Scott just stood there blinking at her for a moment, albeit behind the opaque red lenses of his glasses. "I....uh, you want...with me?" Yup. That had been smooth.
Way to go, Summers. If she did want to go out with you, she's probably seriously rethinking that choice now. Probably had to be a record for how fast he could mess something up.
Scott was such a dork sometimes that it was impossible not to relax around him. The butterflies waltzing around in Jean's belly dissipated.
"With you," she confirmed. "The pretty girl is treating you to dinner and a movie. Do you want in?"
"Absolutely." He was pretty sure it was not considered remotely cool to agree so quickly, but he couldn't quite help it. He couldn't help smiling a touch shyly either. At Jean. Who had asked him on a date and set the entire thing up. Which was probably not traditional, but still warmed him from the inside out. Still, he couldn't imagine what she saw in him, so he felt obligated to offer her a chance to back out, in case the reality wasn't quite matching up to what she'd wanted. "I mean, as long as you're sure."
"I'm sure if you're sure." That tone was just a little too innocent to be actually innocent. "And your fries are getting cold while you're deciding if you're sure."
"Can't have that," he said, nodding with feigned seriousness. He reached over and snatch a couple. "Cold fries are an abomination."
He'd never been on a date before, but if it just involved watching movies and eating with a girl he would gladly spend all of his time with anyway, it could only go well, right? Unless he fucked it up. Which was entirely possible, knowing him. "So, uh, where do you want me?"
There was something about that phrase that caused a little twinge down by Jean's heart. She didn't think it was a telepath thing, but she had to wonder when the last time was Scott had felt wanted. He'd hardly talked about his past at all where it didn't relate to Alex, but the impression she'd gotten was that none of it was happy. She reached for his hand.
"I want you sitting by me."
He blushed, but smiled as he took her hand and wove their fingers together. "I can do that." There was something comforting and familiar about her touch, but it also made his heart beat faster Excitement or nerves, or possibly both. Scott decided not to examine it too much. Instead, he sat down, gently tugging on Jean's hand so she'd join him.
Strike one against the First Date Planning Committee: Lack of forethought in seating. The stools in the garage were impossible to canoodle on. But that probably wasn't a bad thing in hindsight. It was a first date, after all.
Jean took her perch next to Scott and waved to the stack of DVDs. "Got a favorite?"
He shook his head 'no.' "I haven't seen many movies," Scott admitted. Well, other than the documentaries he'd been mainlining since he'd come to Xavier's. He smirked a little, "So I'm relying on you to steer me right here, Red. What's your favorite?"
"Oh nooooo," Jean groaned. "OK, I'm going to tell you. But only if you promise to believe this was in no way a set-up!"
He cocked an eyebrow curiously. "Okay, so this has to be good. But I promise not to question your motives," he said.
"Lady and the Tramp. And I mean it, Scott Summers. If you voice what you just thought, I will deck you."
He'd had so many thoughts in response that, he actually couldn't have said with certainty which one was going to get him laid out on the floor (and not in the way one would've guessed on a date). Still, Scott chuckled and held up his hands, letting go of hers for just a moment, in surrender. "I yield, Red. I'll keep it locked up." He grinned, though, unrepentant.
"Uh-huh." Jean pretended to pout at him, but the fact that Scott had relaxed so quickly sent fresh warmth tripping over her nerves. "You go ahead and smirk. You'll see what I mean when we watch it. You're lucky I didn't make pasta."
"If you say so," he said, smirk still firmly in place. Scott took her hand again, even as he used his free one to grab more fries. "Let's do it, Red. I want to see whatever this scene is.
A bit over an hour later, they were settled a little closer, knee to knee, still holding hands as the closing card came up on the movie. Jean glanced over at Scott, trying not to move her head too much.
"What did you think?"
Scott was entirely aware of two things. First, that this was Jean's favorite movie and so he was absolutely going to nothing other than compliment it. And second, he was aware of precisely how close together they were. He swallowed as he tried to steer his thoughts away from the shape of Jean's lips and his curiosity about how they might feel against his. "Uh, it was good," he managed to say.
She can read your mind, Summers, keep it together. She doesn't need to know your brain has the consistency of a triple-X dive.
"Oh." Well, it wasn't as if Scott was the most effusive guy in the world. And at least he hadn't seemed bored. "OK. Do you want to pick the next one?"
He nudged her knee with his own. "No, really. I liked it. The music was good."
Scott considered the pile of movies. "I don't know, Red. I'm enjoying getting this insight into you. You're just unfolding like a flower. Why don't you pick?"
The temptation to read Scott's mind had rarely been stronger; she honestly couldn't tell if he was being sincere or not. (And she really wanted him to be.)
"Hmm." Jean considered, leaning just a little more into him as she did. "Well, Lady and the Tramp is a classic. Maybe we could go a little more modern with the next one."
Scott refrained from saying so, but Lady and the Tramp had hit awkwardly close to home in a way that was disconcerting but...oddly reassuring? Here he was with Jean Grey, who was smart, and beautiful, and nice, and funny, and who had grown up - mutation-induced hospital time aside - in a world he could hardly imagine anymore.
He was a juvenile delinquent that but-for by the grace of Charles Xavier would have been in prison or six feet underground.
But that was Jean's favorite movie. She was clearly a romantic in that regard and....it gave him some hope that maybe, just maybe, the fact she was miles out of his league (they probably weren't playing the same sport) wouldn't bother her.
"Hmmmm...Aristocats, the Little Mermaid, or Aladdin?" He asked, reading through the titles of the movies she'd liberated that looked slightly more modern. As he leaned in to read the sides of the cases, he let go of her hand to slip his arm around her waist.
Yeah. He was smooth. And nervous. Don't make her uncomfortable you fuckwad. Are you creeping her out? Look over. Check, and prepare to apologize profusely.
Scott swallowed and glanced over at her, butterflies moshing in his stomach.
Jean's eyes were on the television, but the reason why was obvious as the discs began to float. But Jean was otherwise settling comfortably into the circle of his arm.
"Aladdin then. That's the most recent of the three."
He let out a breath he hadn't even been sure he'd been holding as he settled back more comfortably, Jean's warm weight both reassuring and incredibly exciting against his side. "Y'know watching you do that is never not impressive."
"That's because you're seeing the practiced version." The DVD tray slid open for the disc. The invisible hand levitating the disc dropped it into place, and the tray closed. "Trust me, it was a lot less impressive when random objects were flying around my parents' kitchen."
Scott shrugged, and when he realized what he was doing, forced himself to stop running his thumb over the soft fabric of her dress. He grabbed her hand again to stop himself. "I don't know, the whole moving-stuff-with-your mind thing is still pretty cool."
"So's the ability to level a house with an eyeblink." She smiled and squeezed his hand. "Totally different category of cool, but still pretty darn impressive. But not as cool as building a bike up from practically nothing."
He blushed a little at that but smiled, pleased that she found the bike impressive. The mutation thing, his mutation specifically, he wasn't sold on. But...he really was proud of that bike. "It wasn't that hard, she had good bones," he demurred. Still, it was clear how happy he was at the compliment.
"'She', hmm?" Jean smiled. "I'll bet she doesn't have a name either," she said, referencing one of their earliest meetings.
"Nope, no name," Scott admitted, but he smiled back at the memory. "I guess you'll have to find it in your heart to help me. She deserves better, after all."
He swallowed and offered something he'd never voluntarily and unprompted offered before. "I could, uh, could take you for a ride on her. If you wanted." He felt himself blush as he finished.
"I'd like that. I've never been on a motorcycle before." She shifted just enough to get a good look at his face. Everything was so... easy with Scott. Stable and safe, despite the crazy going on all around them. "You've still got a great smile, Summers. You keep this up and I'll start getting pushy about seeing more of it."
He couldn't help the shy but undoubtedly pleased smile in response to that. "Promise?" He teased. She had to know that her wanting to see him was never some kind of hardship. He pushed past a wave of fear of rejection, and admitted, "'Cause I'd kind of like to see more of yours."
"Easiest promise ever." Jean snuggled closer as best she could without toppling off her stool, and settled in to the combined warmth of Scott's surface emotions and their joined hands.
no subject
Date: 2017-12-13 10:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-12-14 12:14 am (UTC)...over the bike, anyway. ;)
That said, she wants to meet Jean now?
(And you were right, Hayley! Bobby's doubled over laughing, and says Scott may be the one person on Earth whose worse at this than he is)
no subject
Date: 2017-12-15 05:17 am (UTC)