The day had started out alright. Who knew it could go downhill so quickly? Getting out of bed at 9am for a 10am danger room session never seemed as displeasing as at this moment. Kurt, being a late sleeper, simply popped himself downstairs for breakfast, causing Jean to jump in surprise and Scott to glare at him. He had apologized quietly and slunk through the routine of breakfast, popping back upstairs to change into his uniform.

Luckily he hadn't scared anyone when he teleported down to the danger room. Wolverine had been in a mood and so training had been even rougher than usual. Toward the end of the session he'd dove in front of Evan, who had been joking around, in order to save him from a water jet that was supposed to be "acid". Because of this he had spent the rest of the time being avoided.

Kitty especially avoided him because he had shook the water from his fur out of habit, much like a shaggy dog would, and sprayed her with droplets. Of course she had yelled out "ew, gross!" and ran away, getting him yelled at for not paying attention. The rest had avoided him because he smelled like wet fur. He was able to disappear quickly and afterward and avoid getting lectured by Scott.

Now as Kurt stepped out of the shower, his fur sporting a nice shampoo aroma instead of wet fur smell, he dried himself off in his room and looked himself over in the mirror. He had his own room and was thankful, but couldn't help thinking it was only because no one wanted to room with a 'monster'.

Pulling on his clothing, of which only the pant's had to be special cargo pants in order to fit his strange body, Kurt flopped back on the bed, emotionally and physically exhausted. Sure it was different here at the institute, with no one chasing him with torch's, but most of his 'friends' still tried to avoid him like the plague. He was sure of it. Whether it was Kitty's twitchiness, or Scott's glares, they all thought he was a freak of nature, and that was something coming from a bunch of mutant teenagers.

At least they all hated the brotherhood more. He may look like some kind of demon or smell like wet fur, but at least he didn't excrete mucus like Toad! Kurt shivered at the thought but calmed as his thoughts traveled through the rest of the brotherhood. His mind brought him to one member especially and one who he had been thinking about quite a lot lately.

Quicksilver.

Pietro Maximoff.

The only person who hadn't made fun of how he looked. Instead he had hovered around Kurt, always battling him in the group fights they often seemed to have. It never seemed like a battle to Kurt, or at least not the type he had been training for in the danger room. It had been teasing words about his team. Snarky comments about his uniform followed by being turned into a wannabe mannequin before being piled under cloths. Never anything about his tail, or his legs and feet, or fingers, or fur.

The worse he'd gotten was about his hair being so long, and the gust from Pietro's Speed had made his hair fan out behind him, somehow breaking away from its band. His hair had grown much longer since he'd been living at the institution, now almost to the bottoms of his shoulder blades.

Kurt rolled onto his stomach, covering his growl of frustration with his pillow. He was hard, damn it! This was so stupid! One, he should not be thinking about the enemy unless it involved battle strategies, and two, Pietro probably wouldn't come near him if it wasn't for fights. Kurt sighed into his pillow, waiting to hopefully calm down enough before he had to go downstairs for food. His stomach growled angrily. "Damn fast metabolism" Kurt growled, matching his stomach. Maybe he could just pop down and back up really fast and no one would notice his raging hard on.

Not a chance, he thought, as he shifted in bed and gasped softly as he realized his mistake. It was a good thing the professor and Jean couldn't get into his head because of some quirk in his power, or they'd be blinded by all the images cascading through his head at that moment.

Pietro in his room.

Pietro caressing his fur with warm hands.

Pietro's lips roughly pressed against his own.

Pietro hovering over him, touching him, kissing him, rubbing against him.

Pietro, Pietro, Pietro!

He had Pietro on the brain and realized the stiffness in his pants wasn't going away on its own, especially when he had been practically dry humping the bed throughout his thoughts. God, he was just like a disgusting animal. He wished, in some alternate dimension, Pietro might want him, even just a little, might look at him with love, or desire, or a sincere smile for his furry countenance.

'Stupid internet' he thought angrily. Everything he had ever wanted to know about the world had been one click away. What he was feeling now, the fact he was gay, how to solve the problem, and in one little electrical box.

Looking toward his door and then toward the clock he ran through his options. Being almost 12pm he knew any moment someone would be sent to get him for lunch, especially if he didn't show up. Missing the x-man that eats the most would send the x-men into a frenzy thinking he'd been attacked or something. 'I wish' He thought, again imagining Pietro.

A knock came at the door a second before Kitty's head phased through. Luckily he was still face down against the bed, or she would have had an eyeful. Like he assumed, she told him about lunch and left, and he was left to stamp down his desire and sneak to the kitchen for food. He made it back to his room unscathed with his food and his passion for Pietro no longer showing.

He needed a break from the mansion, needed to get away from the strange looks and awkward forced conversations. He started stuffing his meager belongings into a duffle bag he had brought with him from Germany and ported himself out to the road, carefully sneaking down the road, hollowatch secure, duffle bag over shoulder.