I know the perfect angle... to bounce on it.

The day dawned warm and golden, and when you opened your eyes dew was still sparkling on the flowers that grew below your bedroom window. The first thing you noticed was that Scott was no longer in bed beside you. The second was the delicious smell of coffee brewing wafting in under the door on a breeze from the open kitchen window. Contentment (and relief) blossoming in your chest, you wrapped yourself in a robe and padded out in your slippers to watch your lover. He was bent over the stove, intently cooking something or other - eggs, from the looks of it - and the old but reliable coffeemaker was bubbling away noisily. Frankly you were impressed that it still worked at all. Just last week Hank had almost rendered it inoperative while trying to make some sort of vitamin and caffeine concoction designed for peak health and efficiency.

Scott must have heard you approaching, because he turned to face you. His smile was almost as bright as the morning sunlight that streamed in. He was still wearing the slightly oversized white t-shirt adorned with the X-Men logo that he always slept in, and a pair of blue and white checkered pajama pants. “Good morning, my love.”

He didn’t usually use terms of endearment in shared spaces like this, but it was early enough that everyone else was probably either still sleeping or doing some pre-breakfast training. You could almost hear Logan pretending to gag, or see Ororo smiling. For now, though, everything was still peaceful. Your voice was soft when you replied. “Good morning.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you breathed out a laugh at the tinge of color that rose to his defined cheekbones. Little displays of affection like that still flustered him, and you exploited that fact regularly. A yawn escaped you before you could repress it, and in an instance of perfect timing, the coffeemaker dinged its readiness.

Scott carefully poured you a cup, as always making it exactly how you liked it and in your favorite mug (you’d threatened to fight Kurt over it once) and handed it to you. “Be careful, it’s still hot.”

You waggled your eyebrows in a suitably exaggerated manner. “Much like you, Mister Summers.”

He groaned, turning back to the stove. “Don’t make me let your breakfast have an unfortunate accident.”

This time you laughed aloud, leaning against the countertop with steaming mug in hand. “Sure.”

Scott ran a hand through his already sleep-tousled hair, and utterly failed at stifling his grin. “I mean it.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you set down your coffee and walked over so you could wrap your arms around him from behind. Resting your cheek against his shoulderblade, you sighed contentedly. “Sure you do.”

Twisting back around to face you, he lifted one hand to give your cheek a loving caress before leaning in for a tender kiss. “Alright, maybe I am bluffing.”

You hummed against his lips, melting into his embrace. He kissed you again, longer this time, and you felt your heart flutter just like it had the first time he’d held you in his arms and lightly pressed his lips to yours. His hands traveled down to your waist as yours moved up to rest on his chest, and you could feel his hips move against yours in an unconscious movement before he pulled back, clearing his throat gruffly. “Breakfast first.”

“If you insist. Are you telling that to me or to yourself?” You ran your hand down his chest, feeling the defined muscle even through the fabric of his shirt. With a wink, you sat down in one of the chairs by the counter and took another sip of your coffee.