WARNING. MALEXMALE. If you don't like gay people, then you wont like my fan fiction story. Please leave reviews…
I do not own the characters in this story, nor do I own 'X Men Evolution' or anything connected with it. This is a work of fiction, my fantasies, nor do I aspire to gain profit from this story. It is simply Fan-fiction.
2:45 am… Kurt Wagner awoke from another seemingly blank, yet high powered anxious dream in his new, pitch black room. As usual, when he awoke from nervous, struggling dreams, Kurt had a thin layer of sweat soaked into his fur and a strong desire to get up and stay that way. In a flash, the thick white comforter was slung to the floor with a loud thump on the rug.
As he slid into new, dryer clothing, he thought to himself while watching his change in the large mirror above his dresser. Kurt had lived in the Xavier institute for over three months now. Still it didn't feel like home or a place he should stay, and he still referred to it as his "new room". This doesn't go saying he preferred his German foster home, just that everywhere he went; he always had a strong urge to run away. Perhaps his name should have been Rogue instead of Nightcrawler…
Everyone else seemed to be able to laugh carelessly, to run and smile. Kurt honestly didn't feel he had it in him. He definitely wasn't depressed, just… lost. Though he kept this to himself, and always showed a fake, goofy demeanor to make up for it, to make it easier and to keep from being the party killer, keeping himself off the radar. Even from Professor Xavier.
Scott was with Jean, Kitty with lance, even Rogue was getting busy with some man at Bayville High. Probably a faculty member, whom she refused to introduce to the Xavier family. 'Gee, wonder why', Kurt thought to himself as he place a three fingered blue hand against the brass doorknob and turned. Along with the doorknob, the gears of recognition turned within his mind, he would have to be quiet.
More than once this month, he had been caught, despite teleportation, by Scott. Kurt had been sneaking around off the premises after midnight, which was considered to be a dangerous and taboo thing. Usually he would just find a place to lay on the green in a wooded clearing. Or he would scuttle down the hillside to a small bay at the foot of the mountain and wade his feet and tail in the icy water. However, when he was caught by Cyclops, the hall monitor, didn't it ever occur to The Professor that Scott also was sneaking around at night in order to have caught him in the first place. Normally he would just teleport away, but that would only exacerbate the consequences. 'Damn that Golden Boy', Kurt yelled inside of his inner monologue loud enough to have possibly stirred Jean down the hall.
Once down the long, high ceilinged hallway and through the tall arched door, he made his way down the rug covered staircase and into the main room. As he glanced out the large main glass doors, Kurt reconsidered his straying journey once he saw the snow falling. Lots of snow, thick white –ticket out of school- snow. His red athletic shorts and white t shirt wasn't ideal for a twilight stroll, but at least his US History test would be postponed until Monday, or so he hoped. A lazy smile crossed his face as he made his way to the lounge, thinking of his upcoming three day weekend. That is unless Scott and Jean decided they needed the day off as extra training.
Kurt grabbed the dark brown blanket off the back of the leather couch once the chill of the large television room came into realization. So much for having fur…
The pointy eared blue elf (as Logan often teasingly called him) made himself comfortable in the cushions of the leather sofa, scratching his back with the pointy angularity of his tail. As he grabbed the remote and turned the television to another all night marathon of 'Roseanne', something small and rolled up on the glass coffee table caught his attention. It appeared to be a pair of navy blue gloves. Motorcycling gloves… Logan's gloves…
Kurt grabbed the gloves without hesitation, yet with shaky hands. "Why oh why must these be here", Kurt mumbled to himself in the darkness, holding the pair of gloves to his chest. "Oh Logan", He whispered again, sniffing the gloves with his heightened senses. Since Kurt had moved to the institute and saw Logan first pull up to the house on his motorcycle, he had been… well… an object of Kurt's desire. THE Logan. The Logan who was so straight that even if you put him up in full drag queen apparel he would still come out as leader of the pack ALPHA male. And since Kurt had recently turned eighteen, his desires had grown unbearable.
So as a result, Kurt just avoided Logan. Sad as it was, to fantasize about the two of them ever being together was juvenile, and idiotic. Yet, regardless of Kurt's actions, destiny kept pushing them closer. Professor Xavier asked Logan to help him with his History quizzes, Logan accidentally grabbing Kurt's scarf the other day and personally delivering it to his bedroom door that evening, or Logan coincidentally moving his bow flex equipment into the back yard previously in the Autumn, right below Kurt's window. Turning Kurt into a perverted spectator through his window as that woolly mammoth of a man, Logan, benched three hundred pounds before his eyes.
Kurt shuttered under the blanket with an odd sensation he didn't recognize. The profound effect Logan had on him. At times, Kurt found himself so stricken that the only way to relax and control himself was to convince himself he hated Logan. But then, he felt guilty. With that thought, unable to endure another second alone with his mind's inner voice, he tucked Logan's motorcycle gloves to his neck, supporting his head with his hands, and left consciousness.