------
Author's Note:
Greetings.
Read, REVIEW, and enjoy. ;) Pretty please.
Cheers.
Jack
------
I woke up the next morning to a stranger looming over me.
All right, that was a little overdramatic. I blinked awake, loudly cursing whoever had opened the curtains and made a mental note to ask Xavier for a room that didn't face east. I'm not a morning person at all. There was a person blocking the light from the window, I saw as my vision slowly cleared. I hadn't slept well at all. I rubbed at my eyes again, glaring at the shadow.
"Doug?" I asked, yawning. He nodded. "What the hell are you doing in my room?" Yeah, there was an edge to my voice. I said I'm not a morning person. Weren't you listening?
"Good morning to you too." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "The Professor wanted me to get that set up for you."
I looked past him to the desk across from the bed, which had a very large amount of, well, stuff on it. A monitor. A keyboard. That sort of thing. It took a moment before I realized it was a computer. I think my brain was still asleep. Oh well. I yawned again.
"Couldn't you wait until a more reasonable hour? Like noon?"
"I thought I'd get it out of the way," he said with a shrug.
"Knock yourself out," I said, laying back. I knew I wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep now. Not just because I'd been jarred awake, but also because I'm a paranoid kind of guy and didn't want to let my guard down around someone I didn't know that well. Instead, I just stared at the ceiling, arms crossed behind my head.
Unfortunately, this gave me the opportunity to think about the events of the last couple days. Thinking of that brought my mind around to the conversation I'd had with Summers yesterday evening. And thinking of that brought my mind around to Kurt.
Crud.
I guess I'd been hoping that the problem would sort of figure itself out. I mean, what was I supposed to do? How do I tell a guy that I don't want to...to...heck, that was part of the problem in itself. I had no idea what he really wanted. It's not like I asked him about it. No, instead I'd run like a rabbit (metaphorically speaking, of course) as soon as I figured out he had an interest in me. Maybe I should ask him what he wanted out of me before making both our lives into a living hell.
I probably would have gone through with it, too, if my thoughts hadn't been interrupted by Doug. Again. He stood up from the desk and tapped a button on the new computer. The screen glowed to life.
"Ah, there," he said, half to himself. "That didn't take long."
"What exactly is that, anyway?"
"It's a computer, Pietro," he said slowly and carefully.
I tried again. "Well, duh. What's it doing in here?"
He gave me a strange look.
"Everyone else has one in their room except you, so the Prof asked me to put one together and get you onto the network." Oh, right, like I knew what that meant. I didn't say that, though. Maybe Summers was starting to rub off on me. What an awful thought. I watched him type away for a couple minutes. Probably for homework, I finally decided. Yeah, that had to be it.
"Well, there you go," he said. I nodded in his direction, lost again in the tangle my social life. Cripes, this was really eating away at me. I hoped this daze wouldn't last too long.
I have no idea how long I sat there, leaning against the headboard, before I noticed that Doug hadn't left the room. Maybe I'd already gotten used to having a keeper around or maybe he really was just that quiet. Either way, I jumped out of my skin when he spoke again.
"Can I ask you something?" The urge to shake my head and shoo him away was almost overpowering. I'd said the same thing to Summers last night and look what happened with that. On the other hand, I was starved for attention so I just shrugged.
"Sure," I said. Doug walked over and sat down on the bed. He looked nervous about something. I could tell because normal people don't walk around twirling electronic equipment around in their hands. Hopefully this wouldn't involve anything of a romantic nature. I had problems enough of my own in that regard and was probably the last person anyone should be coming to for advice. At least we were the same age. If nothing else, whatever was on his mind couldn't have been too far out of my limited experience.
"What's it like being an X-Man?" he asked. My mind shorted out for a moment. That was probably the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth. I laughed: a short, barking noise that sounded cynical even for me. "What was that for?"
"You're asking me what it's like to be an X-Man?" I asked incredulously. Oh, that was rich.
"Yeah," he said, looking down at his hands. "I don't know that I'm cut out for this whole 'saving the world' business."
"What's today's date," I asked. He told me. "You've been here almost three weeks and no one told you I wasn't part of Xavier's glee club?"
His eyes went wide. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know. I just assumed, you know..." He waved his hand.
"No, I don't know," I muttered. "I don't belong here with the rest of these guys," I said.
He shifted, making the bed squeak. "Why do you say that?"
Why did I feel like I was under a strange form of interrogation?
"Maybe I just don't believe in Xavier's dream, all right?" I snorted. "I've got enough problems without trying to be one of the good guys all the time. If it helps, I'm pretty sure that saving the world isn't high on my list of things to do either."
Doug thought about that for a moment, then nodded thoughtfully.
"Nice to know I'm not the only one who's not up for the job."
I couldn't help but grin. "Oh yeah. Trust me: if you need help, I'm not the guy you call."
"I think you're selling yourself short, Pietro," Jean said as she poked her head in the door.
"And I think you're expecting a little too much from me, Red."
"Don't call me that," she said automatically as she walked into the room. "Doug, the Professor wants you in his office." Doug stood and waved at me before walking out. As soon as he was gone, I scowled at Jean.
"What do you want?" I asked. "I wasn't aware this room was the social hub of the whole Institute."
She wandered around the room, poking around the few personal items Lance and Summers had gathered from the Brotherhood house. A couple framed photographs, maybe a dozen books, a laundry basket that hadn't been emptied yet. She picked up one of the pictures, studying it carefully. It was the one of Wanda and me in Times square with Dad. Probably about ten years old or more.
When she didn't answer, I repeated my question. "What do you want, Jean?"
She carefully set the picture back down on the shelf and turned around.
"Why do I have to want something from you, Pietro?" She crossed her arms, leaning against the closet thingy. 'It's called an armoire,' she said in my mind. Damn it.
"Get out of my mind!" I snapped. Unconsciously, perhaps, I mirrored her pose. Crossing my own arms, I leaned back against the headboard. Of course, I had a sour look on my face. That was one difference between the two of us. "Summers wants me to open up and talk to all you guys. Xavier wants me to fit in and be one of his precious students. Hank and the Doc are after me to be more upbeat about, you know, the fact that my freakin' legs don't work. Kurt...hell, I'm not even sure what he wants, but I know he wants something." I paused for effect. "Why would you be any different? And what are you doing in here anyway?" I added.
She came around the side of the bed and sat down right next to me. I had a sneaking suspicion that she was poking around my mind and tried not to let anything slip to the surface. Her eyes settled on mine and I had to look away. She'd picked up that intense look from Xavier, I was positive.
"I don't want anything, I promise."
"Yeah, right." But suddenly I wasn't so sure of myself.
"Pietro," she said. The tone in her voice made me look back at her. There was an odd look on her face, as though slightly pained by something. She opened her mouth to say something further, then stopped. A moment later, she said. "Actually, you're right. I want to help you work through whatever is bothering you."
I'd more or less expected that.
"At the risk of sounding like a grouch..." I said. Her lips twitched. She was trying hard not to smile. I pretended to ignore that and went on: "Why is it that none of you people can just leave me alone to work things out for myself? I did pretty good for myself before you X- Geeks got involved, you know."
"That's horse-poo and you know it." Ooh, such strong language. Maybe I hit a nerve. "If you really want, I can ask the others to stop bothering you." I vigorously nodded. Sounded good to me. "But speaking for myself," she continued, "it's hard not to want to help when you keep projecting your problems all over the Institute."
I peered at her with narrow eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?"
She yawned widely. From the look of her, she'd slept as badly as I had. That should have raised a red flag in my mind.
"You can bottle everything up if you want, Pietro, but your dreams kept me awake all night," she said.
Oh, great. Just great.
"Fine, I promise not to dream," I muttered. Sure, like that would work.
"Forget it," she said, throwing her hands up in the air. I watched as she walked over to the dresser. "Let's just get you dressed and out of bed for the day."
"Wait, you're on nurse-duty today?" She responded by tossing a shirt in my direction. If I hadn't had hyper-reflexes, it would have hit me in the face. More clothing followed just as quickly. "You're not going to try to dress me, are you?" I could feel myself turning red already. Nothing against Jean, but I didn't want to be treated like a Barbie doll.
"Yes, I'm supposed to watch you all day. No, I have no intention of treating you like a doll," she said with a trace of irritation in her voice. Then she flashed me the most evil grin I'd ever seen on her before. "That's why I asked Kurt to help you get dressed. I'm sure the two of you have a lot to talk about."
"You...bitch."
"Right back at you, buddy. Think of it as revenge for keeping me up all night." Her eyes glazed over for a moment and I knew she was talking to someone with her mind. I groaned and slumped against the headboard. This wouldn't have been so bad with anyone other than Kurt. Looks like I was going to have a chance to talk with him whether I liked it or not. Darn it. Hadn't I had enough awkward moments in the last couple days?
"No, you haven't," Jean said on her way out the door.
"STOP DOING THAT!"
I sulked for only a moment before starting to pull on the clothes Jean had picked out for me. I suppose I knew, deep down, that I'd have to confront Kurt eventually. On the other hand I hadn't planned for it to happen so soon. How was I supposed to know that I was keeping people awake at night?
Oh, man. I wondered if Xavier knew about my dreams.
"Whooo, that could be bad," I muttered to myself. Knowing Xavier, he probably wouldn't tell me until I was in no position to evade the subject, either. Like, say, during dinner in front of a lot of people. I groaned. Maybe not, but he'd still find a way to nail me with it if he knew.
I struggled into the freshly-laundered shirt. When I popped my head out, I wasn't alone.
"Good morning, Kurt," I said as carefully as I could. Considering the guy had fangs, it was probably best to step lightly. After all, I'd already managed to piss him off how many times in the last couple days? To my surprise, he grinned instead of biting my head off.
"Guten Morgen. Jean said you'd appreciate some help." He said 'Jean' as though it had a 'zh' on the front, twisting her name into something that sounded like 'sheen' instead. Just one of the more peculiar things I'd noticed about him. I pulled on a sock.
"Is that what she told you?" Color me suspicious, but I wasn't going to put anything past that infernal woman.
Kurt's eyebrows shot up. "Vhat do you mean? You do not vant any help?" There was a note of surprise in his voice and I suddenly doubted my suspicious mind. Maybe Jean hadn't told him I wanted to talk. He gestured at my legs, which were lying very still against the sheets. "Should I leave?" He actually moved toward the door.
"No, don't," I said quickly. He turned back and just looked at me with those butter-colored eyes of his. When he didn't move, I held up my jeans. "I could use a little help, yeah."
Kurt still didn't move. Darn it. He was probably still pissed.
I sighed, leaning back. "I guess we ought to talk, huh?"
"You think?" I don't know if his accent grew thicker when he was irritated, but it came out 'hyoo-tink?' and I felt myself starting to laugh. I just couldn't help it. He sounded so silly sometimes that I just couldn't hold it back. His eyes narrowed and he bared his fangs at me. I'd made a mistake. He started to leave again.
"Kurt-wait-I'm-sorry!" I blurted. He turned back around, holding onto the knob. He was tense; I could see him quivering slightly as he stood there. Almost like a predator, now that I think about it. I choked down the last of the laughter and patted the bed. "Come here," I said as contrite as I could manage. "Sit down. Please," I added.
Maybe it was the 'please' or the apologetic tone of my voice, but he slowly closed the door and walked back over to the edge of the bed. He still didn't say anything, just bent over and started getting the jeans worked up my legs. The tension was still in him, making his fur bristle. I had a sudden urge to pet him like a cat, to calm him down or something.
Boy, does that sound weird or what?
Oh well, what do I have to lose? I thought. I was still having trouble thinking of something to say, so instead I just started stroking his fur. It felt amazing; as I've said before his fur, feels like brushed silk. It's very short and very, very fine, almost ephemeral to the touch. Almost like the touch of a ghost. There, and at the same time, not. As I'd suspected, there was tension underneath. His arm muscles were solid underneath my hand.
I shook my head and snatched my hand back, a little too quickly, for it earned me a glare.
"Sorry," I whispered. "I couldn't help it."
He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. That was probably for the best; because I wasn't sure I wanted to see whatever was in his.
"What do you want from me, Kurt?" An absurd image of an albino parrot came into my mind and I knew that Jean was still lurking about in there. Did she never stop?
'No, I don't. Apologize to him, Pietro. I think you might be surprised.'
Well, that answered that question.
"I'm sorry about the things I said to you the other night," I said, hoping she was out of my mind. "I'm sorry for acting like a dork at the mall. I didn't know you, uh, cared."
Kurt didn't say anything at first. He carefully tugged my jeans up around my hips and started fastening the buttons. Amazing dexterity for a guy with two fingers and a thumb on each hand, I might add. I waited for him to speak. And waited, and waited, and waited. It was only after he slid the belt through the buckle that he finally met my eyes.
"You don't have to apologize, Pietro."
"W-what?" I stammered. As soon as the word was out of my mouth, Jean's thought came to me again: 'Shut up and let the guy speak!' That was getting really annoying. I had a bizarre thought at that point. Maybe that's why Dad had his telepath-proof helmet made. Maybe he'd gotten tired of Xavier mentally nagging him all the time. A sensation of irritation washed through me. Apparently my daydreaming had the desired effect. I gleefully smirked in my mind. If she wanted to hang around in there, I'd keep finding ways to pick away at her.
Kurt's voice brought me back to the situation at hand.
"I shouldn't have acted like a moody little child toward you," he was saying. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He sighed and moved around to the other side of the bed. For a moment I thought he was leaving, but he knelt on the covers and crawled across, lying down beside me to stare at the ceiling. On impulse I slid down from my half-sitting position. The movement made our shoulders touch and I felt him tense up again.
"Bah," I said. "We both made this mess. I don't need an apology out of you." Does that sound out of character for me? Probably, but who cares? I'd gone through hell in the last couple weeks. I think I was starting to mellow.
Maybe I was growing up. Gah, what a scary thought.
"So ve are all right, ja?"
"Is this the part where we shake hands and say 'friends'?" I asked with a trace of a grin.
"I'm not sure," he admitted. I felt him shrug. "It alvays cuts to a commercial before I find out." I turned my head to find he was looking at me with an impish grin. I couldn't help but smile too.
"So now that's out of the way," I said. My own smile wilted a bit. How do I go on from here? To my surprise, Jean didn't answer me. Maybe the nagging comment had driven her off. "What's next?"
I felt him tense again and it irked me for some reason. It took me several minutes, but I managed to roll onto my side so that I was facing him. Without looking him in the eyes, I started stroking his arm fur again. He gave me a look.
"You're nervous," I explained. "I'm just trying to make you feel less tense."
"It's not vorking," he said. On the other hand, he didn't stop me either.
"So what would?"
He immediately took my hand off his arm and slipped it into his own. With a light squeeze, he said: "This."
I think I said before that I'm reasonably open when it comes to relationships and that sort of thing. So I didn't freak out. I mean, why would I? Kurt was actually quite cute, all things considered. I mean, so he had fur and yellow eyes and a tail. And a hair color not found in nature. And fangs.
I snickered. I wondered if Amanda had trouble with the fangs when they kissed.
"Vhat are you laughing at now?" he asked with a faint smile. When I told him, his smile split into a huge grin. Good lord, those fangs were freakin' huge! No wonder Lance referred to Kurt as 'Nosferatu.' And here I'd thought it was just a slam against his Germanic blood. "Oh, ja. Lots and lots of problems at first. After a vhile," he giggled, "vell, she got used to it."
"Took her a long time, you say?"
"A few veeks, maybe. Vhy?"
"Just curious." I blinked. "Speaking of Amanda..."
"Vhat about her?"
I looked at him with an incredulous expression. "Ever heard of burning the candle at both ends?"
"Nein." Yeah, figured that much. Kurt seemed to have learned his English from television and that's not a phrase you hear that often on Jerry Springer.
"Let me put it another way. Is she willing to share?"
His face scrunched into a frown. "I haven't asked her. Vhy vould I?"
"You're not serious." I looked over at him. He was, indeed, serious. I grimaced. "There's a dictionary on the shelf over there. Go look up the word 'jealousy' and get back to me when you're done. I think you might be in for a shock when Amanda finds out you've got a th-" He cut me off with a finger on my lips.
"Pietro," he said, sitting up suddenly.
"What?" Did I say something wrong? I mean, really. I was casually acquainted with his girlfriend from geometry class last year at Bayside High. While she seemed like a nice enough girl, she didn't strike me as the type who would be willing to share her boyfriend with, well, a guy. I had nothing against Amanda, but I had a sneaking suspicion this was going to get complicated in a hurry. I looked up to see Kurt leaning over me, close enough that his fur was tickling my eyelashes.
"You think too much," he said. Despite the fact that he was like an inch away from my face, I had trouble hearing him. Maybe it was the blood pounding in my ears. Or maybe it was the shock when he kissed me.
Don't look at me like that. He kissed me on the forehead. Sheesh.
A sudden thrill ran through me. I was on the verge of pulling his head down for a proper kiss when the door to my room crashed open. I rolled my eyes as Kurt moved off me. We both turned toward the door.
"Don't you people have anything better to do than bug me all day?" I groused at the intruder. A moment later, my mouth went dry. Kurt and I exchanged a look and then both stared at Amanda, surprise, surprise, who was framed in the doorway.
'I'm sorry,' I heard Jean's voice in my head. 'She just dropped by and I didn't know she was here until just now.' Thanks, Red. Thanks a whole hell of a lot. 'Don't call me that.'
"Hello, Amanda," Kurt said. His voice cracked and I had to resist the urge to snicker. Considering the murderous look on his girlfriend's face, I figured my best bet would be to just fade into the background. Laughter of any kind would probably result in my being torn limb from limb.
This day was rapidly going downhill and I hadn't even gotten out of bed yet.
------
To Be Continued.
------
Author's Note:
Greetings.
Read, REVIEW, and enjoy. ;) Pretty please.
Cheers.
Jack
------
I woke up the next morning to a stranger looming over me.
All right, that was a little overdramatic. I blinked awake, loudly cursing whoever had opened the curtains and made a mental note to ask Xavier for a room that didn't face east. I'm not a morning person at all. There was a person blocking the light from the window, I saw as my vision slowly cleared. I hadn't slept well at all. I rubbed at my eyes again, glaring at the shadow.
"Doug?" I asked, yawning. He nodded. "What the hell are you doing in my room?" Yeah, there was an edge to my voice. I said I'm not a morning person. Weren't you listening?
"Good morning to you too." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "The Professor wanted me to get that set up for you."
I looked past him to the desk across from the bed, which had a very large amount of, well, stuff on it. A monitor. A keyboard. That sort of thing. It took a moment before I realized it was a computer. I think my brain was still asleep. Oh well. I yawned again.
"Couldn't you wait until a more reasonable hour? Like noon?"
"I thought I'd get it out of the way," he said with a shrug.
"Knock yourself out," I said, laying back. I knew I wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep now. Not just because I'd been jarred awake, but also because I'm a paranoid kind of guy and didn't want to let my guard down around someone I didn't know that well. Instead, I just stared at the ceiling, arms crossed behind my head.
Unfortunately, this gave me the opportunity to think about the events of the last couple days. Thinking of that brought my mind around to the conversation I'd had with Summers yesterday evening. And thinking of that brought my mind around to Kurt.
Crud.
I guess I'd been hoping that the problem would sort of figure itself out. I mean, what was I supposed to do? How do I tell a guy that I don't want to...to...heck, that was part of the problem in itself. I had no idea what he really wanted. It's not like I asked him about it. No, instead I'd run like a rabbit (metaphorically speaking, of course) as soon as I figured out he had an interest in me. Maybe I should ask him what he wanted out of me before making both our lives into a living hell.
I probably would have gone through with it, too, if my thoughts hadn't been interrupted by Doug. Again. He stood up from the desk and tapped a button on the new computer. The screen glowed to life.
"Ah, there," he said, half to himself. "That didn't take long."
"What exactly is that, anyway?"
"It's a computer, Pietro," he said slowly and carefully.
I tried again. "Well, duh. What's it doing in here?"
He gave me a strange look.
"Everyone else has one in their room except you, so the Prof asked me to put one together and get you onto the network." Oh, right, like I knew what that meant. I didn't say that, though. Maybe Summers was starting to rub off on me. What an awful thought. I watched him type away for a couple minutes. Probably for homework, I finally decided. Yeah, that had to be it.
"Well, there you go," he said. I nodded in his direction, lost again in the tangle my social life. Cripes, this was really eating away at me. I hoped this daze wouldn't last too long.
I have no idea how long I sat there, leaning against the headboard, before I noticed that Doug hadn't left the room. Maybe I'd already gotten used to having a keeper around or maybe he really was just that quiet. Either way, I jumped out of my skin when he spoke again.
"Can I ask you something?" The urge to shake my head and shoo him away was almost overpowering. I'd said the same thing to Summers last night and look what happened with that. On the other hand, I was starved for attention so I just shrugged.
"Sure," I said. Doug walked over and sat down on the bed. He looked nervous about something. I could tell because normal people don't walk around twirling electronic equipment around in their hands. Hopefully this wouldn't involve anything of a romantic nature. I had problems enough of my own in that regard and was probably the last person anyone should be coming to for advice. At least we were the same age. If nothing else, whatever was on his mind couldn't have been too far out of my limited experience.
"What's it like being an X-Man?" he asked. My mind shorted out for a moment. That was probably the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth. I laughed: a short, barking noise that sounded cynical even for me. "What was that for?"
"You're asking me what it's like to be an X-Man?" I asked incredulously. Oh, that was rich.
"Yeah," he said, looking down at his hands. "I don't know that I'm cut out for this whole 'saving the world' business."
"What's today's date," I asked. He told me. "You've been here almost three weeks and no one told you I wasn't part of Xavier's glee club?"
His eyes went wide. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know. I just assumed, you know..." He waved his hand.
"No, I don't know," I muttered. "I don't belong here with the rest of these guys," I said.
He shifted, making the bed squeak. "Why do you say that?"
Why did I feel like I was under a strange form of interrogation?
"Maybe I just don't believe in Xavier's dream, all right?" I snorted. "I've got enough problems without trying to be one of the good guys all the time. If it helps, I'm pretty sure that saving the world isn't high on my list of things to do either."
Doug thought about that for a moment, then nodded thoughtfully.
"Nice to know I'm not the only one who's not up for the job."
I couldn't help but grin. "Oh yeah. Trust me: if you need help, I'm not the guy you call."
"I think you're selling yourself short, Pietro," Jean said as she poked her head in the door.
"And I think you're expecting a little too much from me, Red."
"Don't call me that," she said automatically as she walked into the room. "Doug, the Professor wants you in his office." Doug stood and waved at me before walking out. As soon as he was gone, I scowled at Jean.
"What do you want?" I asked. "I wasn't aware this room was the social hub of the whole Institute."
She wandered around the room, poking around the few personal items Lance and Summers had gathered from the Brotherhood house. A couple framed photographs, maybe a dozen books, a laundry basket that hadn't been emptied yet. She picked up one of the pictures, studying it carefully. It was the one of Wanda and me in Times square with Dad. Probably about ten years old or more.
When she didn't answer, I repeated my question. "What do you want, Jean?"
She carefully set the picture back down on the shelf and turned around.
"Why do I have to want something from you, Pietro?" She crossed her arms, leaning against the closet thingy. 'It's called an armoire,' she said in my mind. Damn it.
"Get out of my mind!" I snapped. Unconsciously, perhaps, I mirrored her pose. Crossing my own arms, I leaned back against the headboard. Of course, I had a sour look on my face. That was one difference between the two of us. "Summers wants me to open up and talk to all you guys. Xavier wants me to fit in and be one of his precious students. Hank and the Doc are after me to be more upbeat about, you know, the fact that my freakin' legs don't work. Kurt...hell, I'm not even sure what he wants, but I know he wants something." I paused for effect. "Why would you be any different? And what are you doing in here anyway?" I added.
She came around the side of the bed and sat down right next to me. I had a sneaking suspicion that she was poking around my mind and tried not to let anything slip to the surface. Her eyes settled on mine and I had to look away. She'd picked up that intense look from Xavier, I was positive.
"I don't want anything, I promise."
"Yeah, right." But suddenly I wasn't so sure of myself.
"Pietro," she said. The tone in her voice made me look back at her. There was an odd look on her face, as though slightly pained by something. She opened her mouth to say something further, then stopped. A moment later, she said. "Actually, you're right. I want to help you work through whatever is bothering you."
I'd more or less expected that.
"At the risk of sounding like a grouch..." I said. Her lips twitched. She was trying hard not to smile. I pretended to ignore that and went on: "Why is it that none of you people can just leave me alone to work things out for myself? I did pretty good for myself before you X- Geeks got involved, you know."
"That's horse-poo and you know it." Ooh, such strong language. Maybe I hit a nerve. "If you really want, I can ask the others to stop bothering you." I vigorously nodded. Sounded good to me. "But speaking for myself," she continued, "it's hard not to want to help when you keep projecting your problems all over the Institute."
I peered at her with narrow eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?"
She yawned widely. From the look of her, she'd slept as badly as I had. That should have raised a red flag in my mind.
"You can bottle everything up if you want, Pietro, but your dreams kept me awake all night," she said.
Oh, great. Just great.
"Fine, I promise not to dream," I muttered. Sure, like that would work.
"Forget it," she said, throwing her hands up in the air. I watched as she walked over to the dresser. "Let's just get you dressed and out of bed for the day."
"Wait, you're on nurse-duty today?" She responded by tossing a shirt in my direction. If I hadn't had hyper-reflexes, it would have hit me in the face. More clothing followed just as quickly. "You're not going to try to dress me, are you?" I could feel myself turning red already. Nothing against Jean, but I didn't want to be treated like a Barbie doll.
"Yes, I'm supposed to watch you all day. No, I have no intention of treating you like a doll," she said with a trace of irritation in her voice. Then she flashed me the most evil grin I'd ever seen on her before. "That's why I asked Kurt to help you get dressed. I'm sure the two of you have a lot to talk about."
"You...bitch."
"Right back at you, buddy. Think of it as revenge for keeping me up all night." Her eyes glazed over for a moment and I knew she was talking to someone with her mind. I groaned and slumped against the headboard. This wouldn't have been so bad with anyone other than Kurt. Looks like I was going to have a chance to talk with him whether I liked it or not. Darn it. Hadn't I had enough awkward moments in the last couple days?
"No, you haven't," Jean said on her way out the door.
"STOP DOING THAT!"
I sulked for only a moment before starting to pull on the clothes Jean had picked out for me. I suppose I knew, deep down, that I'd have to confront Kurt eventually. On the other hand I hadn't planned for it to happen so soon. How was I supposed to know that I was keeping people awake at night?
Oh, man. I wondered if Xavier knew about my dreams.
"Whooo, that could be bad," I muttered to myself. Knowing Xavier, he probably wouldn't tell me until I was in no position to evade the subject, either. Like, say, during dinner in front of a lot of people. I groaned. Maybe not, but he'd still find a way to nail me with it if he knew.
I struggled into the freshly-laundered shirt. When I popped my head out, I wasn't alone.
"Good morning, Kurt," I said as carefully as I could. Considering the guy had fangs, it was probably best to step lightly. After all, I'd already managed to piss him off how many times in the last couple days? To my surprise, he grinned instead of biting my head off.
"Guten Morgen. Jean said you'd appreciate some help." He said 'Jean' as though it had a 'zh' on the front, twisting her name into something that sounded like 'sheen' instead. Just one of the more peculiar things I'd noticed about him. I pulled on a sock.
"Is that what she told you?" Color me suspicious, but I wasn't going to put anything past that infernal woman.
Kurt's eyebrows shot up. "Vhat do you mean? You do not vant any help?" There was a note of surprise in his voice and I suddenly doubted my suspicious mind. Maybe Jean hadn't told him I wanted to talk. He gestured at my legs, which were lying very still against the sheets. "Should I leave?" He actually moved toward the door.
"No, don't," I said quickly. He turned back and just looked at me with those butter-colored eyes of his. When he didn't move, I held up my jeans. "I could use a little help, yeah."
Kurt still didn't move. Darn it. He was probably still pissed.
I sighed, leaning back. "I guess we ought to talk, huh?"
"You think?" I don't know if his accent grew thicker when he was irritated, but it came out 'hyoo-tink?' and I felt myself starting to laugh. I just couldn't help it. He sounded so silly sometimes that I just couldn't hold it back. His eyes narrowed and he bared his fangs at me. I'd made a mistake. He started to leave again.
"Kurt-wait-I'm-sorry!" I blurted. He turned back around, holding onto the knob. He was tense; I could see him quivering slightly as he stood there. Almost like a predator, now that I think about it. I choked down the last of the laughter and patted the bed. "Come here," I said as contrite as I could manage. "Sit down. Please," I added.
Maybe it was the 'please' or the apologetic tone of my voice, but he slowly closed the door and walked back over to the edge of the bed. He still didn't say anything, just bent over and started getting the jeans worked up my legs. The tension was still in him, making his fur bristle. I had a sudden urge to pet him like a cat, to calm him down or something.
Boy, does that sound weird or what?
Oh well, what do I have to lose? I thought. I was still having trouble thinking of something to say, so instead I just started stroking his fur. It felt amazing; as I've said before his fur, feels like brushed silk. It's very short and very, very fine, almost ephemeral to the touch. Almost like the touch of a ghost. There, and at the same time, not. As I'd suspected, there was tension underneath. His arm muscles were solid underneath my hand.
I shook my head and snatched my hand back, a little too quickly, for it earned me a glare.
"Sorry," I whispered. "I couldn't help it."
He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. That was probably for the best; because I wasn't sure I wanted to see whatever was in his.
"What do you want from me, Kurt?" An absurd image of an albino parrot came into my mind and I knew that Jean was still lurking about in there. Did she never stop?
'No, I don't. Apologize to him, Pietro. I think you might be surprised.'
Well, that answered that question.
"I'm sorry about the things I said to you the other night," I said, hoping she was out of my mind. "I'm sorry for acting like a dork at the mall. I didn't know you, uh, cared."
Kurt didn't say anything at first. He carefully tugged my jeans up around my hips and started fastening the buttons. Amazing dexterity for a guy with two fingers and a thumb on each hand, I might add. I waited for him to speak. And waited, and waited, and waited. It was only after he slid the belt through the buckle that he finally met my eyes.
"You don't have to apologize, Pietro."
"W-what?" I stammered. As soon as the word was out of my mouth, Jean's thought came to me again: 'Shut up and let the guy speak!' That was getting really annoying. I had a bizarre thought at that point. Maybe that's why Dad had his telepath-proof helmet made. Maybe he'd gotten tired of Xavier mentally nagging him all the time. A sensation of irritation washed through me. Apparently my daydreaming had the desired effect. I gleefully smirked in my mind. If she wanted to hang around in there, I'd keep finding ways to pick away at her.
Kurt's voice brought me back to the situation at hand.
"I shouldn't have acted like a moody little child toward you," he was saying. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He sighed and moved around to the other side of the bed. For a moment I thought he was leaving, but he knelt on the covers and crawled across, lying down beside me to stare at the ceiling. On impulse I slid down from my half-sitting position. The movement made our shoulders touch and I felt him tense up again.
"Bah," I said. "We both made this mess. I don't need an apology out of you." Does that sound out of character for me? Probably, but who cares? I'd gone through hell in the last couple weeks. I think I was starting to mellow.
Maybe I was growing up. Gah, what a scary thought.
"So ve are all right, ja?"
"Is this the part where we shake hands and say 'friends'?" I asked with a trace of a grin.
"I'm not sure," he admitted. I felt him shrug. "It alvays cuts to a commercial before I find out." I turned my head to find he was looking at me with an impish grin. I couldn't help but smile too.
"So now that's out of the way," I said. My own smile wilted a bit. How do I go on from here? To my surprise, Jean didn't answer me. Maybe the nagging comment had driven her off. "What's next?"
I felt him tense again and it irked me for some reason. It took me several minutes, but I managed to roll onto my side so that I was facing him. Without looking him in the eyes, I started stroking his arm fur again. He gave me a look.
"You're nervous," I explained. "I'm just trying to make you feel less tense."
"It's not vorking," he said. On the other hand, he didn't stop me either.
"So what would?"
He immediately took my hand off his arm and slipped it into his own. With a light squeeze, he said: "This."
I think I said before that I'm reasonably open when it comes to relationships and that sort of thing. So I didn't freak out. I mean, why would I? Kurt was actually quite cute, all things considered. I mean, so he had fur and yellow eyes and a tail. And a hair color not found in nature. And fangs.
I snickered. I wondered if Amanda had trouble with the fangs when they kissed.
"Vhat are you laughing at now?" he asked with a faint smile. When I told him, his smile split into a huge grin. Good lord, those fangs were freakin' huge! No wonder Lance referred to Kurt as 'Nosferatu.' And here I'd thought it was just a slam against his Germanic blood. "Oh, ja. Lots and lots of problems at first. After a vhile," he giggled, "vell, she got used to it."
"Took her a long time, you say?"
"A few veeks, maybe. Vhy?"
"Just curious." I blinked. "Speaking of Amanda..."
"Vhat about her?"
I looked at him with an incredulous expression. "Ever heard of burning the candle at both ends?"
"Nein." Yeah, figured that much. Kurt seemed to have learned his English from television and that's not a phrase you hear that often on Jerry Springer.
"Let me put it another way. Is she willing to share?"
His face scrunched into a frown. "I haven't asked her. Vhy vould I?"
"You're not serious." I looked over at him. He was, indeed, serious. I grimaced. "There's a dictionary on the shelf over there. Go look up the word 'jealousy' and get back to me when you're done. I think you might be in for a shock when Amanda finds out you've got a th-" He cut me off with a finger on my lips.
"Pietro," he said, sitting up suddenly.
"What?" Did I say something wrong? I mean, really. I was casually acquainted with his girlfriend from geometry class last year at Bayside High. While she seemed like a nice enough girl, she didn't strike me as the type who would be willing to share her boyfriend with, well, a guy. I had nothing against Amanda, but I had a sneaking suspicion this was going to get complicated in a hurry. I looked up to see Kurt leaning over me, close enough that his fur was tickling my eyelashes.
"You think too much," he said. Despite the fact that he was like an inch away from my face, I had trouble hearing him. Maybe it was the blood pounding in my ears. Or maybe it was the shock when he kissed me.
Don't look at me like that. He kissed me on the forehead. Sheesh.
A sudden thrill ran through me. I was on the verge of pulling his head down for a proper kiss when the door to my room crashed open. I rolled my eyes as Kurt moved off me. We both turned toward the door.
"Don't you people have anything better to do than bug me all day?" I groused at the intruder. A moment later, my mouth went dry. Kurt and I exchanged a look and then both stared at Amanda, surprise, surprise, who was framed in the doorway.
'I'm sorry,' I heard Jean's voice in my head. 'She just dropped by and I didn't know she was here until just now.' Thanks, Red. Thanks a whole hell of a lot. 'Don't call me that.'
"Hello, Amanda," Kurt said. His voice cracked and I had to resist the urge to snicker. Considering the murderous look on his girlfriend's face, I figured my best bet would be to just fade into the background. Laughter of any kind would probably result in my being torn limb from limb.
This day was rapidly going downhill and I hadn't even gotten out of bed yet.
------
To Be Continued.
------