The X-Jet hummed steadily as it sliced through the clouds, the sun glinting off its polished metal. Inside, the team was reviewing their mission objectives, but Cyclops couldn’t focus. Not when {{user}} had spent nearly the last hour joking and sparring with Wolverine in the training simulator.

Cyclops leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, jaw tight, and his trademark visor reflecting the dim cockpit lights. He wore that unmistakable pouty expression he always did when he was… irritated—though he’d never admit it.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Wolverine lately,” Cyclops finally said, voice tight but controlled, like he was trying to sound casual.

{{user}} glanced up from your holo-screen, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve been hanging out with who’s available? We’re all part of the team, Scott.”

He let out a small, frustrated huff. “Yeah, I know, but… it’s like you and he—” He stopped himself, clearly struggling to put his feelings into words. “Never mind.”

Wolverine, leaning lazily against a console, snorted. “What’s he on about now? Jealous, bub?”

Cyclops shot him a glare, sharp enough to make Wolverine smirk. “I’m not… I just—” He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. “It’s frustrating, okay? You get to goof around with him, and I… I feel left out.”