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“Where are you taking me?” Jean said as Emma dragged her through the crowd. The music’s so deafening she’s not even sure if Emma heard her.
Her only response was sharp voice in Jean’s head. Don’t worry your pretty little head, tiger. Let me take the lead.
Jean’s complaints died in her throat when she realised they’ve nothing left to do. They got the intel on Mystique they came for while they fought off creepy, obnoxious men (Jean had never been more thankful for Emma’s ruthless use of telepathy). There’s nowhere Jean would rather be than by Emma’s side so, if she wants to drag her someplace, Jean will let her.
***
“You don’t think that was a little harsh?” Jean asked through her laughter.
Emma continued to lead them up the stairs to the roof, leaving the crowded club behind. “Please. If anything, he deserved worse.” She disagreed; she’s not sure what’s worse than being telepathically forced to reveal your most embarrassing secrets in front of a club full of people. She’s sure death would be a blessing at that point.
There was a pause in the conversation until they reached the door to the roof. “Shit, it’s locked.” Emma turned to face her. “Be a dear and open the door.” Jean telekinetically opened it and Emma lead them out into the night.
“Oh,” Jean glanced around. “Is this it?” There’s a pool in the middle of the roof that looks like it’s seen better days, but apart from that, there was nothing else of note up here.
“What were you expecting?” Emma asked, a smirk on her lips.
“No, it’s just –” she struggled to find the words, hands flailing about uselessly. She gives up. “If there’s nothing here, why did you bring us up here?”
“The club was overwhelming,” Emma said, waving a hand dismissively. “I wanted us to be alone, away from them.” Jean tried not to overthink that statement, she really did. Emma’s right, the club was too crowded, it was so loud they had to speak telepathically just to understand each other over the roar of the club. But still, she can’t help the flare of hope at her words.
Emma, oblivious to Jean’s internal struggle, walked towards the edge of the roof overlooking the city and sat down. Pining gets you nowhere, she mentally chastised herself. So, Jean pushed those thoughts aside and joined her. They fell into an easy conversation and talked about anything and everything, ignoring the rest of the world and the responsibilities that came burdened with it. Just sitting here with Emma, talking about nonsensical things is the most fun Jean’s had in months.
***
The faint sound of dance music and the hum of the occasional car that drove past filled the space between their conversation while both looked to the stars. Jean could admit that the view of the stars from here was breath-taking, but her eyes couldn’t help but be drawn back to the blonde beside her. Jean wasn’t even aware she’d been staring until a humoured voice broke the comfortable silence.
“You know, if you take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Emma glanced at Jean and smirked when Jean gaped back at her.
Jean recovered with a scoff and went back to looking at the sky. “Don’t flatter yourself, Emma.”
Emma tilted her head to the side, and considered it. “Am I really flattering myself if I bring you here to see the view and I point out that you’re staring at me instead?” She grinned, wide and devilish. “It’s just an observation.”
“You should probably observe something else,” Jean replied, too entranced by Emma’s smile to think of something witty. “I don’t think you need the ego boost.”
Emma laughed at that, loud and free, blue eyes sparkling in the light. Stars or not, Jean doesn’t think she’s seen anything this beautiful.
***
The drink she’d had earlier is still in her system, but Jean thinks Emma is far more intoxicating than any drink could hope to be. Jean has no use for alcohol when just talking to Emma makes her feel jittery, when Emma smiling at her is enough to make her feel lightheaded. Jean knows what this is, the butterflies in her stomach and simultaneous uneasiness and calmness she feels whenever she’s around Emma, she just doesn’t know what to do about it. She doesn’t even know where she stands with Emma. Jean thinks they’re friends, being the only girls on the team means Emma’s certainly less cold towards her and Ororo compared to everyone else, but Emma’s so Emma that she’s not sure what any of that means.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a perfectly manicured finger tapping her temple. “Stop thinking so loud,” Emma quipped as she rose from the ledge and dusted off her clothes. Jean felt panic begin to claw at her at the possibility that Emma might have overheard her thoughts but, if she did, she’s not saying anything. “Come on. We should get going if we want to avoid Professor Baldy’s unnecessarily long lectures.”
She held out a hand to help her up and Jean took it without hesitation. “Don’t worry, if anyone asks, I’ll say it was my idea.”
“It was your idea.” Jean deadpanned, rolling her eyes.
“Well, if you really want to spilt hairs about it,” Emma replied. Both are standing now, and they really should be going back to the mansion, (Jean likes Xavier’s lectures about as much as she likes getting hit by a brick) but neither of them moved. “You have a little,” she said, finger pointing vaguely to Jean’s face. “There’s something on your cheek.”
“Here, let me get it.” Emma’s hand cupped her cheek and wiped it away with her thumb. They’re close enough that Jean can feel Emma’s breath on her, close enough that the smell of her expensive perfume is crowding Jean’s senses.
“I think I got it all,” Emma all but whispered and it took Jean a few seconds to remember what they were talking about. Jean just hummed a reply, she’s not sure she can form actual sentences with Emma this close.
Emma withdrew, her hand hovering hesitantly over her cheek and Jean instinctively leaned into it, seeking that contact again. The two of them stayed like that until Emma abruptly ripped her hand away and jerked backwards. Jean was at a loss, the movement so sudden she’s sure she’d gotten whiplash. She wanted to say something, anything to get back that moment, but the intense feeling of almost that feels like a heavy ball in her throat made it hard to breathe, let alone speak.
“We – It’s late,” Emma said, breaking the unbearable silence. “We really should head back.” She turned on her heel and walked back towards the roof door.
“Emma, wait!” Jean called after her. Between studying, training and missions, she’s not sure they’ll get another chance like this any time soon. Emma turned around, eyes narrowed and aloof mask back in place.
“What?” Emma asked. Jean stared in silence as she struggled to find the words to convey what she wanted. She’s not even sure words could encapsulate the entirety of what she feels for Emma.
So, Jean cupped Emma’s face and leaned in slowly, giving her enough time to back away. She leaned all the way and their lips met. Soft and warm, sweet, with a taste of peppermint. Emma responded immediately, surprising Jean. She moved her hands to rest on Jean’s hips, pulling their bodies closer. Near enough she’s sure she felt Emma’s steady heartbeat grounding her.
Jean pulled back with a small gasp. “Emma, I –” before she could finish the sentence Emma shut her up with another kiss. She tangled her hand in Jean’s hair and pulled their bodies flush against each other, a small moan escaping her lips at the feel of it. It felt like Emma was trying to devour her, consume her, until the only thing left was the feel of their lips against each other.
They broke apart eventually, heavy breaths mingling in the space between them.
“So, you were saying?” Emma murmured as her eyes fluttered closed again.
“I was hoping the kiss would speak for itself,” She said.
“Don’t worry,” Emma quipped, a smile on her lips as she leaned to steal another kiss. “It did.”