Chapter 6
Through the grey clouds, a weak morning light seeped through to shine down on Bayville High. Under tall, oak trees and on the dew-soaked grass, high schoolers were scattered across the front yard, huddled in their preferred cliques. A few pairs of students were standing away from the crowd in semi-secluded spaces, sneaking in a small morning make-out session.
Lance sat atop of the picnic bench outside the school, waiting for the first bell to ring, signaling the start of the day. His feet found purchase on the hard, black plastic of the bench while his elbows balanced on his knees. He face was cradled in his hands as he stared out into space. The morning was crisp and smelled of an oncoming cold-front – a perfect concoction to clear one's mind. He had ditched the other members of the Brotherhood for precisely that reason. He wanted to spend some time alone with his thoughts. Lance's mind kept flittering to his and Kurt's relationship. He felt confused and unsure. They had started out under the charade of social niceties, but at some point the pretense had faded away. In fact, now, they teased each other and joked around, with or without Mark present. He had even felt guilty – him guilty – at calling Kurt a freak. He still felt slightly ashamed when he recalled the hurt look that had graced Kurt's face. He had said he wanted to change himself for the better, but was this too far? What would the rest of the Brotherhood think if he said he'd become friends with a Kurt?
Lance shook his head. He had promised himself over the summer that he was done with trying to fit in with the rest of the Brotherhood. He wanted to dissociate himself from them, annoyed at their childish antics. He wanted to become better. He couldn't do that if he always wondered what they thought.
He had fun with Kurt and liked him. But then again, they mostly interacted only at gymnastics practice. He avoided him at all other times. Maybe that said more about the state of their relationship than anything else. Lance sighed heavily to himself and shifted on the bench, eliciting a scraping noise as his jeans rubbed against the plastic. Then there was that time in the bathroom at Tom's Pizza Bistro. He liked remembering that moment when he made Kurt smile, easing that tension from whatever it was he was upset about. Maybe he did want to be friends with Kurt but didn't know how to go about it. He didn't want to fuck it up like it seemed he did everything else.
The picnic table creaked under extra weight as someone climbed up to join Lance.
"Thinking deeply or hardly thinking," Mark said as he settled in next to Lance.
"Just thinking." Lance straightened up and leaned back on his hands to look over at Mark.
Mark leaned back alongside Lance, surveying the growing throng of students. "I'm glad that you and Kurt got over whatever it was. Your friendship is brand new. Needs daily watering and care. Like a plant." Mark sagely nodded as if some friendship guru.
"What, we're not friends," Lance retorted back without thinking. It was so easy to be defensive, especially when the sensitive issue was at the fore of his mind.
Mark just rolled his eyes. "Fine, then you're not friends."
Lance huffed, unsure if he was happy with Mark's quick acquiescence or confused on how his statement made him feel.
"But, I've figured it out," Mark continued on as if Lance's remark was irrelevant.
Lance took the bait. "Figured what out?"
"Why you want to be friends with Kurt."
Sitting up, Lance crossed his arms. "Why do you think I even want to be friends with him?"
"You already are but since we're in this whole denial stage, I'll tell you why. You want his
approval."
"Fucking Christ, you're talking out of your ass now."
"No. You said yourself that you aren't a nice guy but are trying to be better. Kurt's probably one
of the nicest guys, and you want his stamp of approval that now you too are nice."
Lance scoffed. "That is the biggest pile of bullshit I've ever heard."
"I talked to my parents."
"This again?" Lance scowled, still not too pleased that Mark conversed with his parents about him. He wondered what else Mark's parents had analyzed about him, but it was probably best he never found out.
"They're psychologist. Can't argue with a Ph.D."
"Fine. Then what about Kurt. Why has he been all buddy-buddy with me? Did you ask your parents about that?" Lance asked snidely.
"Why wouldn't he want to be friends with you?"
Lance just stared at Mark. Mark's candid tone and the implication of his statement created a euphoric feeling that slowly overtook Lance. He knew he wasn't always kind and could be a jackass but knowing that Mark really did value their friendship. That was awesome.
Mark shook his head and smiled. "Sometimes, you're just too hard on yourself."
Lance thought back to what Mark said and felt a little upset. "So I'm just using Kurt to feel good about myself? That makes me sound like a complete dick."
"And sometimes you're a complete idiot. That's not what I said." A loud bell resounded three times, signaling the ten minute countdown until the start of class. Mark jumped off the bench and straightened his backpack that hung off one shoulder.
"You said I wanted his stamp of approval."
"Yeah, everyone wants their friends' approval. It's part of friendship. You just get the extra benefit of feeling good about yourself by not being friends with an asshole. Afterall, who you're friends with says something about yourself."
Lance stood up next to Mark, thinking on what he said.
"The problem is is that you two are only just school friends. Not even school friends, just gymnastics friends. All of us. It's time for us to step up our game. So I have a plan."
Lance looked warily at Mark but waited to hear out his idea that would somehow bring their friendship to the next level.
"You two are coming with me to the movies this Saturday. We're going to hang out every weekend until you believe me that you two are friends. Not just acquaintances or gymnastics friends. But actually friends that hang out doing shit."
Lance rolled his eyes but he didn't argue. Whenever Mark got an idea in his head, there wasn't much that could change his obstinate mind.
The five-minute bell rang, and any stragglers left outside started making their way to the entrance of the school.
"We'll talk more about it at gymnastics practice today," Mark said as he and Lance merged with the rushing crowd. "You'll see. It'll be great." They soon parted ways to head off to their first class.
Mark kept true to his word. The first thing he said when Lance arrived to gymnastic practice was how they needed to talk to Kurt to plan their weekend.
"Ready to put my plan into action?" Mark asked from his perch on the pommel horse.
Lance paused in between his situps, draping his body over his knees. "Your stupid plan from this morning?"
"The only stupid thing I see here is a doubter. Never doubt me. Now go get Kurt."
"Why do I have to do it? I'm sitting down," Lance whined.
"Just think of it as your first step to friendship. Besides, I wanna get started on my routine." Mark patted the pommel horse with two hardy slaps.
"Fine. Where is he anyway?" Lance stood up and stretched his arms across his body before scanning the room.
"Think he was late. Just look for Trieg." Mark's voice had a slight growl to it. "Lately, that's all he's done is hover over Kurt like a lingering fart cloud."
Lance grinned in amusement at Mark's description of Trieg. "Don't like Trieg much still."
Mark shrugged. "Just something off about him. Look, see." Mark pointed over to the opposite side of the room where an area of the mats had been cleared for weight-lifting and stretching. Kurt was sitting cross-legged with his back to them, probably having just finished stretching. And true to Mark's words, Trieg was bent down next to him, his right arm casually placed around Kurt's shoulder. "As I said, like a leech."
"Well, as long as he's not sucking Kurt dry, I think Kurt can handle his attention."
"Yeah, probably. Just go help him out and remove Leech Trieg."
Giving his arms a few, large swings to finish his warm-up, Lance sauntered across the mats, giving a wide berth to the apparatuses in the middle of the room to avoid getting hit by a teammate. As he approached Kurt and Trieg, he began to call out to Kurt but stopped himself. Trieg was awfully close to Kurt and seemed to be speaking to him in low tones. Kurt's posture read all sorts of tense, like a spring wound up tightly.
Trieg must've sensed his presence because he pulled back from Kurt to turn around and look at Lance. "Alvers, what brings you over here? Need help with something?"
Lance stared for a second. He swore that when Trieg sat back that he saw him remove his left hand from Kurt's leg. Blinking and shaking his head, Lance figured his eyes must've been playing a trick.
Kurt stood up quickly away from Coach Trieg, one arm slightly holding the other as if for protection.
Unsure of what to make of the situation, Lance's mind stumbled a bit before responding to Trieg. "Just wanted to talk to Kurt."
"Sure." With a grunt, Trieg picked himself off the ground. "I was just about done anyway. You two have fun." Trieg hummed a bit as he walked off, a light bounce to his step.
Once alone, Lance cautiously asked, "Is everything ok?"
"Y-yeah. Fine," Kurt responded, his voice had a small tremble in it.
"That was the most non-convincing fine ever. What's going on?"
"Nothing." Kurt tried to get himself back under composure. "Nothing's wrong. Why?" His smile came out a little wobbly, but Lance figured he'd drop it. It was obviously the same problem that was bothering Kurt at the pizza parlor and most likely Trieg was helping him out. As Mark had pointed out, they weren't close friends yet so no reason to think that Kurt would be willing to open up to either him or Mark about it anyways.
"You just seemed…" Lance shrugged. "Anyway, Mark has a great plan for all of us and needs you to be there so you too can bask in its glory."
"Okay," Kurt said hesitantly, unsure of what Mark's "great plan" could be.
Lance and Kurt wound up catching the end of Mark's pommel horse routine, his dismount ending with Mark bent on one knee.
"Figured I'd try out a new dismount. Still needs work," Mark commented as he straightened up.
"Everything else seems pretty good. You've really improved," Kurt said.
"Thanks."
"So I hear you have some great plan." Kurt jumped up on the pommel horse and took a seat on the left side. Mark heaved himself up on the right, leaving Lance standing in front of them completing their small circle.
"I do. We're all going to the movies on Saturday." Mark stated cogently, as if challenging them to doubt his plan.
Lance caught Kurt's raised eyebrow as if questioning 'this is his great plan.' Lance shrugged but allowed Mark to explain.
"Right now we're all gymnastics friends. This way we'll be friend friends."
"Is this something your parents recommended?" Kurt asked wryly.
Lance almost laughed. Kurt must've also gotten the "my parents are psychologists" spiel before.
"It's a good strategy." Lance noticed that Mark didn't answer Kurt.
"Ok," Kurt capitulated readily, game to Mark's idea.
Figuring it could be fun and why not humor Mark, Lance asked, "Alright, then what movie?"
"Anything but horror. Jackhammer still haunts my thoughts." Mark made a gagging motion as if the mere suggestion of gore would make him lose his lunch.
"How about Treepocalypse?" Kurt posited as he started to lean back but then caught himself before falling backwards off the pommel horse.
"The one about the trees attacking the city? Could be good," Lance said.
"Sounds good. I'll text you guys what time I can get tickets." Mark jumped off the pommel horse. "Better get back to practice before Trieg comes over here to chew us out. I'm gonna go work on the parallel bars." With that, Mark took his leave.
"I wonder what made him want to do this," Kurt pondered out loud.
"I dunno. Might as well humor him. Come with me to the floor. I want to show you the new pass I've been working on." Lance worked with Kurt for the rest of practice, wondering whether Mark's plan was going to be as successful as he hoped or backfire completely.
Saturday continued the trend of overcast skies, but at times, the sun would peak through the clouds and add a bit of light and warmth to the air. Lance, Mark and Kurt met outside the theater, Mark flourishing the tickets in his right hand. After stopping by the refreshment counter for some drinks and popcorn, the three made their way to the dim theater. There was a smattering of groups spread throughout the theater, but overall the audience size was relatively small. Choosing some seats at the top, Mark led them over and jostled his way to the middle of the room for a prime view.
Lance found himself smack dab in the middle, a big bowl of buttery popcorn perched in his lab for everyone to reach. They were only able to chat just a bit before the theater darkened and the previews started. One particular preview promised a thrilling time when a group of teenagers embark on a cruise and are slowly picked off one by one.
"Think we can convince Mark to see that?" Kurt leaned over and whispered to Lance.
Lance snorted. "Fat chance on that. Maybe if one of us grows some big tits."
Kurt had to stifle a laugh to not disturb the other moviegoers.
The movie itself, sadly, was not as entertaining as the previews. Lance guessed there was only so much one could do with trees attacking a city. If he had to watch another person get hauled up into some creepy, dark boughs by some twisted branches, he might just throw his drink at the screen. Sighing, he turned to look at Mark, but he seemed engaged with the dreck on the screen. No accounting for taste. Rolling his eyes, Lance looked to his right at Kurt who was resting his face against his hand, looking as bored as Lance felt.
An idea began to form in Lance's head. This was a perfect moment for him to get back at Kurt all those weeks ago when Kurt doused him with water during gymnastics practice. Grasping his soda in hand, Lance smirked to himself. This was going to be good and hey, he got free refills anyway. Making sure that Kurt was thoroughly distracted by the borefest on the screen, Lance pried off the lid to throw the remnants of his drink at Kurt. Lance, though, underestimated how much of the ice had melted and mixed with the remaining soda. As he threw the drink, most of it ended up sloshing off the side, landing in Kurt's lap.
While not exactly what he was going for, Lance's plan was still mostly successful. Kurt jumped a mile in his seat, letting out a surprised yelp.
Mark didn't even turn from the screen.
"Lance!" Kurt whispered furiously.
Lance just snickered in response.
As Kurt stood up to rid himself off the sloshy mess, his inducered form wavered back and forth between his true self and the fake image. Kurt nervously looked towards Mark before shaking off the coke and ice from his hand. The jarring motion didn't seem to help, and in the next second, the inducer shorted out completely. Not wasting time, Kurt ported out of the theatre.
Lance felt horrible. He was just trying to have some fun, and it seemed he'd fucked it up again. He just hoped that Kurt hadn't abandoned them completely. He leaned over to Mark to tell him that he was going to the bathroom, and Mark just nodded, still glued to the screen.
Lance dutifully checked every bathroom or possible location he thought Kurt might've ported to before heading around to the back of the theater.
When he peeked his head outside, a few light sprinkles and ominous, dark clouds portended a greater storm.
"Kurt?" Lance called out but the only he response he got was distant thunder. Not really wanting to get wet but figuring he should be thorough, Lance stepped out. There were a few cars parked behind the theater – most likely employees - but otherwise it seemed vacant. Lance yelled out again and almost jumped a foot in the air when Kurt appeared au natural in a cloud of smoke in front of him. "Where-"
"I was on the roof." Kurt gestured up while fiddling with his watch in his hand. "I think it's dead."
"I'm sorry. Again." Lance ran his hands threw his hair in a frustrated motion. "God, I'm such a fuck up."
"It's not really a big deal. Mark didn't notice, right?" Kurt glanced at Lance but then quickly away.
Lance could tell that while Kurt was trying to pass it off, he seemed a bit hurt.
"No, he didn't." Lance put his hand on Kurt's shoulder, wanting to draw his attention. He didn't want Kurt to start acting all weird around him again. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to break your watch."
"No, it's not that. It's just sometimes…"
Lance waited a second; but when Kurt didn't continue, he shifted his weight, unsure how to proceed. While he was glad that Kurt didn't seem upset about his actions, it was something else. Lance didn't know if he should drop it or try to draw it out of Kurt.
A rumbling resounded, heading towards them like an approaching train before fat drops plummeted from the sky. The sidewalk resembled a battlefield. Like cannonballs eradicating the enemy, the raindrops left dark splotches splattered across the chalk white. Lance watched as Kurt shivered as a cold drop slide down the back of his neck.
"Anyway, I should probably go before it really starts pouring, and you need to get back to
Mark," Kurt said, backing away a bit.
The moment had passed and Lance had missed his chance. Not wanting to bring the mood back down, Lance let Kurt change the subject. "You know, I did say I'd get back at you."
"Back at me?"
"You know, for that time in gymnastics."
It took Kurt a second to remember what Lance was referring to, but Lance could tell the second
he remembered by the glint in his eyes. "Hah, oh yeah. Next time, maybe something a little less sticky." Kurt held out his hand. His fur looked stuck together in small, viscous clumps.
"I don't just get even, I do it better." Since Kurt wasn't upset, Lance felt it was perfectly fine to gloat.
"Well, now you'll have to come up with some excuse to give Mark for why I had to go."
"W-what? Hey, that's not fair."
"You're the one that made this sticky mess. And at least I get to miss the rest of that awful movie. So thanks." Kurt grinned, pleased with the silver lining he'd found.
"It is pretty bad," Lance agreed, not really wanting to sit the rest of the way through. He'd rather just spend the rest of the movie out here with Kurt, but he knew that Mark would notice at some point and come searching for them.
"Alright, I gotta go."
"Hey, um," Lance started. He'd had fun today and wanted to do it again. He just wasn't sure if Kurt was willing. "Next time, the soda's on me."
"Ok," Kurt smiled deviously. "Be sure to bring a change of clothes, then." He ported away before Lance caught on to what he meant.
Lance headed back into the theater, a light feeling spreading through him, burning away any traces of chill left from the rain. Maybe Mark's idea wasn't so crazy afterall.
Lance was pleased. After getting together several more times to watch movies, play games and just general hanging out, he could with surety call Mark, Kurt and him friends. It made him feel pretty good about himself. He had friends, good friends that wouldn't backstab him – something he didn't feel like he had with the Brotherhood.
Stuffing his English folder in his backpack, Lance closed his school locker door. The empty hallways echoed the lone sound that would've normally been drowned out by a cluster of chatting students. He fumbled with his lock before getting it to click shut. Even though Mark was absent today, having gotten sick over the weekend, gymnastics practice was still fun. And luckily Kurt had inadvertently reminded him of the English paper that was due on Monday, giving Lance time to retrieve it from his locker.
Although their friendship seemed to be relatively flourishing, Lance wished Kurt would tell him what it was that seemed to be constantly upsetting him. Both Mark and he had commented how sometimes Kurt just shut down around them or avoided them completely. It was strange, and Lance thought Kurt usually acted off right after having talked with Trieg. Lance wondered what in the hell it was Trieg and Kurt talked about. Was Trieg really helping cause Kurt always seemed more distressed after their little powwows.
Figuring Kurt would tell him when ready and that he'd done enough navelgazing for today, Lance headed back to the gym. Most likely everyone had headed out already, but Lance still needed to change back to his normal clothes.
Crossing the gym floor, the mats absorbed his footfalls. He regretted going out in the school hallways barefooted, but he liked the feeling of the soft, spongy mat underneath his feet. He'd just have to scrub them well when he got home. Grasping the locker room door, he expected an empty room to greet him, but he ended up staring in shock.
Down at the far end, Trieg was standing just behind Kurt. If he took just one incremental step, he'd be practically pushing Kurt into his locker. His hands rested on Kurt's hips, a familiar and intimate gesture that made Lance's skin crawl. Kurt's face was concealed by his open locker, but Lance could see one hand was tightly gripping the locker door. Lance could only hear low tones from Trieg as he murmured into Kurt's ear.
Having seen enough, Lance loudly made his entrance, depositing his backpack on a bench with a thump, causing Trieg to jerk back from Kurt.
"Alvers, didn't realize you were still around." Trieg commented nonchalantly, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "Just giving Kurt some last minute stance pointers."
Lance just stared him down, not believing Trieg's excuse.
Trieg seemed unfazed by Lance's glare. "I'll let you two finish packing up so you can get home. See you at practice next week." Trieg, a fake grin plastered on his face, walked by Lance, giving him a brief pat on his way out.
Kurt hadn't moved from his position by his locker except Lance thought he seemed to be a bit less tense now that Trieg had left.
Lance wasn't going to let Kurt hide and avoid the problem this time. This had to be it, what was upsetting Kurt so often. Lance couldn't believe how blind he'd been. He never should've dismissed it from his mind, all those small, strange moments he noticed between Trieg and Kurt. He needed to see Kurt's face. Moving quickly, Lance crossed the locker room and gently closed Kurt's locker door.
Kurt backed away and sat down on the bench, still facing away from Lance as if he was ashamed to look at him. Lance sat down next to him, almost wishing that Mark was there with his wisdom from his psychologist parents.
But it was just him.
"I'm gonna guess this is what's been upsetting you lately."
Kurt didn't reply at first but then he nodded imperceptibly.
"You know, he shouldn't do that. You shouldn't let him touch you like that." Lance saw that Kurt had his hands clenched in fists on his knees as if somehow that could contain all the emotions he was feeling. But he couldn't just drop the conversation. Not this time. "I don't understand why you let him-"
"I don't want-" Kurt began sharply but broke off before he finished what he was going to say. "Can we not talk about this here?"
"We need to talk about this." Lance started growing frustrated. Couldn't Kurt see that this wasn't something to sweep aside.
"I know," Kurt said irritably. "Just not here, okay?"
Even though the locker room was empty, Lance thought Kurt had a point. It probably wasn't too comfortable of a place to have this conversation, and Trieg could walk in at any second. "Alright, then to where?"
"There's this park on the way back to the mansion. It's pretty secluded."
"Ok, fine. Let me grab my stuff, and we can go." Lance walked over and picked up his gym bag and backpack. He'd just have to worry about changing his clothes later. He didn't want to delay any further. "Up to giving us a shortcut?"
"Yeah, just not in here." Kurt pointed to a camera that was mounted in the seam where the ceiling met the wall. It had been installed after a series of thefts from the locker room. They'd been promised that the film would only be reviewed upon suspicion of criminal activities occurring and they'd be informed prior to viewings. Still, Lance thought Kurt was being practical. No reason to take the administration at their word.
Kurt led them around to one of his "safe spots" and ported them to the park.
In contrast to the past few weeks, the sky was clear as the sun began its descent in the sky. Yellow and orange tinted the few stray clouds in the air. Kurt was right in that the park was well secluded. Woods surrounded the park on all four sides with well-worn trails leading out to the road. The park itself was relatively small. There was a basketball court, enough for only one goal, a few scattered picnic tables, and then a swath of long grass turned brown from the fall.
"Not many people come here, so it's pretty nice," Kurt commented.
"Yeah, just some loser who lost their Frisbee in a tree." Lance pointed to the red disc stuck way high up in the branches of a bare tree.
"That loser is me. I put it up there so I wouldn't have to remember each time I came here with Scott or the others."
"Oh."
Kurt ported up and grabbed the Frisbee and threw it towards Lance from his perch. Lance barely caught it by the tip of his fingers, a little out of Frisbee practice. Kurt ported back down and for awhile as the sun continued setting, they tossed the Frisbee back and forth. Lance found it relaxing and thought the ease in tension might make the pending conversation easier.
After one particular hard dive Lance performed to catch the disc, he wound up on his stomach in the grass. Already feeling tired from gymnastics practice, Lance made himself comfortable, needing a break. The grass crunched under him as he nestled down further, head coming to rest on his hands folded in front of him. Kurt came and joined him, sitting cross-legged beside him.
Kurt picked up one of the brown leaves that littered the ground and began to twirl it in his hand. "You know, even though Mark can be pretty demanding, he had a good idea – us hanging out and all."
Lance inwardly smiled. He knew that Kurt and he were friends now. It just felt good to have it confirmed out loud.
"Yean, strange, though. How he just suggested that. He seemed really determined for us to hang out." Lance watched Kurt play with the leaf from the corner of his eye before reaching out with his hand to pick a particularly crunchy-looking one of his own to fiddle with.
"Don't tell him I said this, but I kind of think Mark is actually lonely."
Lance looked questioningly at Kurt, wanting to hear out his thoughts.
"A lot of people are turned off by his gruffness. He doesn't hang out with a lot of people during school."
"Well, that's stupid. Mark's a cool guy."
Kurt smiled in agreement before laying down on his back beside Lance. "Maybe sometimes some Arschlochs are not as bad as they seem at first."
"Sometimes, though, some people are just complete fucking – oh." It took Lance a second to get that Kurt was referring to him. "Yeah, I guess so."
"You know, I've been wondering. Why did you join the gymnastics team in the first place?" Kurt still had the leaf in his hand, but now he was tearing it into small pieces that drifted to his chest to create a mosaic of brown on his maroon shirt. The shredding made a satisfying sound.
Lance thought back to that memory which set off a chain of events that led to this previously improbable moment. It was during the long days of summer. There hadn't been anything happening. No fighting, no missions, nothing. He remembered standing in the kitchen, looking into the living room. It was a fucking pigsty in there. No one had bothered cleaning in ages. Empty pizza boxes and Chinese take-out along with a few porno rags composed the carpeting of the floor. Freddie was sprawled out on the couch, one hand in a bag of chips and one clutching a soda as he mindlessly flipped through the channels. Pietro and Todd were arguing about something again – he couldn't remember exactly what- something pointless and stupid. It wasn't any different from any other day in the summer, but maybe that was precisely it. He stood there watching them and thought this was what he was. What he was a part of. This pointlessness. This stagnation. He could either join in and become part of the juvenile tableau or go out and do something. Change something. Be something. Be better than all of this and what he was before. He hadn't immediately decided on signing up for gymnastics, but that one, small moment was the first spark.
He told Kurt this in not so many words, and Kurt just listened. He didn't really say anything but he didn't judge either. After he was finished, they sat in companionable silence for a bit. Lance thought how it just felt good to just be himself at the moment. No worrying about trying to fit in or act cool. He turned to look at Kurt who was reposed in supreme relaxation. One hand was tossed above his head and his eyes seemed focus on the late autumn sunset that was beginning to surrender to a crisp night. A stray thought skittered across Lance's mind that slowly took shape and grew. He ended up staring at the inducer on Kurt's hand that was stretched above his head. With one simple flick, he could turn it off. Then it would be him and the real Kurt. Not that the inducer changed his personality or created some alternate version. Just that Lance thought it was unfair that he could feel free to be himself while Kurt couldn't.
For a moment, Lance wondered what that would be like – to constantly be hiding what he really was. In a way, he did but not like Kurt. Thinking back to that time at the theater, a small epiphany started to encroach on him. Maybe what Kurt was upset about then was that frustration. Lance couldn't imagine having to deal with that.
Lance's hand crept towards Kurt's on its own volition, a bare inch away from touching the inducer when Kurt suddenly turned towards him. Lance quickly withdrew his hand.
Kurt stared at him curiously, unsure of what Lance had intended to do.
Lance stammered, "Sorry. Um, I was just thinking." He was glad that Kurt had interrupted his compulsion. Deactivating the inducer, even if they were alone, would be a breach of trust. It wasn't up to him, and he bet Kurt would've been pretty pissed.
"About what?"
Lance thought this would be a perfect time to discuss what they had really come to the park for. Besides, it matched with his thoughts. When Kurt was wearing his inducer, obviously he also had to be careful about people touching him to avoid discovering his fur. If Trieg's hand had slipped even once, Kurt's secret would be out.
"About Trieg," Lance replied, slightly trepidatious about Kurt's reaction. Afraid he would just teleport away to avoid the conversation completely.
Immediately Kurt's posture went from relaxed to rigid. He sat up and bowed his head forward, his hair falling in front of his face. "Oh." He brushed away the pieces of leaf that had stuck to his shirt, as if trying to avoid looking at Lance.
"This is why we came out here." Lance sat up too, leaning a bit forward so he could catch a glimpse of Kurt's face. "I was thinking of how Trieg could've found out. You know. About you."
"He hasn't," Kurt replied tersely.
"But he could've."
Kurt sighed and stopped trying to remove the last tenacious leaf speck. His tone came out defeated. "I know."
"Has he?" Lance paused, not sure how to phrase such an uncomfortable question for both him and Kurt. "How far has he…?"
"He hasn't done anything. I mean, nothing different from what you've seen."
"So just the excessive pats and such?"
"Yeah." Kurt didn't dare look at Lance. His fingers twitched nervously as he hid the full truth. Lance didn't need to know how far Trieg had really gone. "Today was just the most… aggressive he's been."
"That's good then. I mean that's not good but at least he hasn't tried touching you, you know…" Lance trailed off. It was an awkward conversation. "But I still think you should tell him to stop. It just isn't right."
"Do you really think that's going to convince him?"
Lance shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe. I mean maybe he has it in his head that you're okay with it. Tell him it makes you uncomfortable. If he listens, then great. If not, you could always drop out of gymnastics or you know there's not that much longer for the season."
"I'd still have PE with him. But I guess he leaves me mostly alone then."
Lance took courage that Kurt seemed to be coming around to his idea. "Yeah. I think if you just talk to him everything'll be fine. He's probably just lonely. I don't think he's married. He just got too attached to you."
Kurt made a noncommittal reply to that.
"So will you talk to Trieg?"
Kurt hesitated a second, thinking on the validity of Lance's suggestion. "Ja, I'll do it."
"Monday then?"
Kurt nodded before standing up and wiping the grass from the seat of his pants. "We should get going."
By now, only the barest of light filtered through the bottom of the trees as the sun bid a final adieu. Lance hadn't even noticed the few lights humming on as dusk had settled, illuminating the basketball court and one of the paths out.
Lance waited as Kurt returned the Frisbee to its spot in the trees. He felt proud of himself. He gave out some solid advice, had an otherwise relaxing time and felt that they had both opened up a bit more to each other. He wouldn't mind an outing of just them two again.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Notes:
So Lance does kinda say the wrong things in this last conversation (saying how Kurt should've just stopped him). But I figured that'd be more realistic to stumble on what to say, especially when he doesn't have the full truth in front of him.
And though there isn't much action in this chapter, I wanted to build up Lance and Kurt's relationship, especially since I am going to add some slash (starting next chapter). Speaking of which, next chapter, shit hits the fan.
Thanks for reading. Don't forget to review. :)