Chapter 7
Lance walked through the front doors of the X-mansion into the ornate entry way. A scarlet, plush rug laced with intricate golden threads and a high-vaulted ceiling hinted at the splendor of the rest of the mansion. He had been to the mansion several times, had even lived there for a brief stint, but the décor could still give him pause.
"Hey," greeted Kurt as he closed the front door behind Lance. "I didn't think you'd come."
"Yeah," Lance replied while scanning the hallways. He was wary of running into Kitty. Even though they'd been broken up for almost a year, it would still be awkward to see her around.
"Don't worry, no one else is around. They're out shopping at the mall." Kurt must've noticed Lance's discomfort, but knowing he wouldn't have to face a confrontation, Lance relaxed.
He followed Kurt through the rest of the mansion, glad that Kurt must've felt comfortable enough around him to not wear his inducer. After grabbing a snack in the kitchen, Kurt ported them straight to the Danger Room which had been transformed into a fully equipped gymnastics arena. They practiced for a bit together and fooled around on the apparatuses. Until somehow the two of them wound up standing in front of each other.
Kurt was saying something, but Lance couldn't concentrate on it. In fact, it seemed he couldn't focus on anything. Without thinking, letting impulse take control, Lance leaned slightly down and kissed Kurt. At first chastely and then after receiving a positive, tentative response, began to deepen the kiss.
Lance abruptly opened his eyes. He blinked a few times before sitting up in his bed. His bedside clock reading 3:45 a.m. lent a greenish tint to the otherwise dark room. He'd been dreaming. Slowly, he lay back down, repeating the mantra in his head that it was just a dream. His eyes slowly closed, and he began floating in a state between being half-asleep and half-awake. His mind drifted back to his dream and added some salacious details and excitement. He imagined the kiss becoming more passionate, more frantic. He could practically feel his fingers running through Kurt's hair and slowly leading them to the floor and –
Lance bolted up in bed again – in disbelief that his mind would betray him twice.
This wasn't… he didn't….
Trying to sort through his turbid thoughts, Lance acted on autopilot. He leaned over and picked up his pillow that had somehow fallen off in the middle of the night. He brought it on top of his lap, hiding the evidence that his dream had an effect on him.
He wasn't gay. Not that being gay was bad. It just wasn't for him. Besides, he had dated Kitty. In fact, sometimes he still used her as fantasy material when he wanted to beat one out. His thoughts had sometimes conjured up a few enticing male figures when he was likewise occupied, but he had always been able to squash and ignore them. But this dream and post-fantasizing was a whole different level.
Did that make him bi? He could deal with that. As long as he could ignore half of that equation, he'd be perfectly fine. No one needed to know.
Lance thought back to the dream and could feel deep inside that he wanted to desperately let the rest of the fantasy play out. Leaning down into his pillow on his lap, Lance released a muffled cry of frustration. Goddamnit. He wasn't supposed to like guys. He wasn't supposed to start liking another X-man. And he most certainly wasn't supposed to like blue, fuzzy ones at that.
Sighing heavily, he fell backwards back onto his bed, bringing his pillow over his face. It didn't matter. It was just a stupid fantasy. It didn't have any real world implications. He could have his fun in the privacy of his own room and then everything else could continue on normally. He could hang out with Mark and Kurt and nothing would be different. Though… thinking about last Friday at the park. He wanted to repeat that again, when it was just him and Kurt. The conversation was nice – at least until he had to bring up Trieg - and he felt relaxed and content. Plus, he could imagine things going differently next time. The two of them, lying on the grass. The setting sun's light playing across Kurt's face. The secluded area.
Lance clutched the pillow tightly over his face to stop that train of thought before it left the station. Relaxing a bit to give himself some room to breathe, he sat there in the dark for a few minutes, trying to clear his mind.
Ok, so he was maybe, possibly, a tiny bit attracted to Kurt. It was probably just a phase. The confusing start to their friendship was what was throwing him off. He'll do like he said. Ignore it and it'll go away. Just ignore it and it'll all just go away. Chanting this in his mind, Lance eventually fell asleep.
Kurt picked up his tray from the lunch line, and headed into the crowded, bustling cafeteria. Successfully dodging one kid who suddenly stopped in the middle of an aisle between two long lunch tables, Kurt eventually made his way to where Mark was sitting. Earlier, Mark had beckoned him to join him and it was only until now that he finally trudged through the lunch line.
"Took you long enough," Mark said as he unwrapped a ham and cheese sandwich dripping with mayo from a brown paper bag.
"They ran out of pizza and started serving spaghetti." Kurt made a face at the disgusting slop on his tray. The "meat" looked slightly off color, more grey than brown, and the red sauce was so bright, it could be radioactive.
"The same spaghetti they served last Friday?"
"Looks like it." Kurt shoved his fork in the mess of noodles and lifted it directly above his tray. Instead of eating the slop, he watched the noodles slowly plop back onto his tray in a slimy mess. The sauce slightly splattered, turning the table into a crime scene.
"Here." Mark reached into his sack and pulled out another sandwich. Purple jelly intermixed with crunchy peanut butter clung to the sides of the plastic wrap. "I got two. Take it."
"You sure?"
"I'm not going to let you eat something that might attack you."
Kurt took the proffered sandwich, grateful that the spaghetti would remain untouched. "Thanks." He had actually grown to like PB&J sandwiches after being in America for awhile.
"Lance going to join us?"
After swallowing a sticky bit, Kurt responded. "Doubtful." He couldn't break it to Mark that Lance wouldn't be caught dead sitting with him in front of the rest of the Brotherhood.
"His loss," Mark shrugged before tearing open a bag of chips. He held it out to Kurt, who took a few.
"I owe you one." Kurt munched on a chip before asking. "So go on any more dates with Shelly?"
"Just a few. I really do like her, but she said she only wants to date around. Not get stuck in a relationship." Mark was trying to pass it off, but it was obviously from the tone in his voice that Shelly's rejection had been a blow to him.
"That sucks."
"Yeah. I'm not good with sharing. So I don't think I'll ask her out again."
Kurt didn't mention how it seemed Mark was perfectly capable of sharing his lunch. It wasn't exactly the same.
"What about you? Anyone you're interested in?" Mark asked as he dug around again in his seemingly bottomless bag. He pulled out an orange and began peeling and segmenting it.
Kurt shrugged. It's not that he didn't think about others in that way. It was just that he couldn't act on any desire, so why bother. Besides, there was no one in particular that really crossed his mind. Going out with Amanda had been more for the novelty of the experience, but ultimately their relationship was shallow and had immediately ended when she had moved. If he really thought about it, he wouldn't mind being with someone who knew his true self and was just easy and fun to be around.
"No one at all? Girl?" Mark paused. "Guy?"
"Not really."
"Do you care?"
"Wanna be more specific?"
Mark mumbled around an orange slice, "If it's a girl or a guy?"
Kurt hesitated a second. He didn't think that Mark would care, but it wasn't something he'd come out and really announced. To anyone. But if Mark was willing to ask so casually… he might as well go for it. "I guess guys." Kurt blushed, self-conscious of his declaration, but Mark didn't even blink.
His embarrassment faded away, replaced by an ebullient feeling. He had already come to the realization that he preferred guys. Of course this was after some reflection, web browsing, and repeated viewings of Captain Blood. There was just something about Errol Flynn. But it was nice to have someone else know and accept without censure.
"What about…." Mark started scanning the cafeteria, as if somehow he could magically find someone that Kurt would be interested in. "Huh, that's strange."
"What?" Kurt followed Mark's gaze to his right, trying to spot anything peculiar.
"Lance is staring over here."
It took Kurt a second to find Lance in the crowd, but soon spied him sitting at the end of a table, and Mark was right. His stare bore through anyone that passed his line of sight, straight over to Kurt and Mark. As soon as Kurt caught Lance's eye, Lance began to mouth something.
"What's he saying? Tree?" Mark asked. "He could just come over here and say it to our face instead of all this furtive crap."
Kurt didn't answer Mark, knowing exactly what Lance was mouthing. Trieg. Kurt looked away and down at the mostly finished sandwich. It'd been plaguing him all day about how he'd promised Lance he'd talk to Trieg. He just hadn't gotten around to it yet. P.E. was busy and then he had to rush to his next class, and in the morning he was already late enough due to his stupid inducer acting up again. Sighing, he knew he was just avoiding the task. He should just get it out of the way now before tomorrow's gymnastics practice.
Standing up, Kurt picked up his trash. "Hey, I gotta go do something real quick. I should be back before the end of lunch."
Mark looked curiously from him and then over to Lance. Luckily, he didn't pry. "Ok. I'll be here."
Kurt felt like he was walking the last mile to his execution. He was nervous how the conversation would play out, unsure of how Trieg would react. As he passed by Lance and the rest of the Brotherhood, he heard Pietro mock loudly, "Here comes the freak."
Lance didn't speak up, and avoided his glance as he walked by. Slightly hurt, but knowing he shouldn't have expected any different, Kurt continued out of the cafeteria. He figured he'd first check the most obvious location, the teacher's lounge. As he walked down the almost empty hallways, he deliberated in his head whether he should knock on the door or just wait for a teacher to come out.
Misfortune, though, seemed to be smiling upon him today. Just as he was approaching the lounge, Trieg exited. Now he couldn't even make up some excuse about not finding him.
Spotting him immediately, Trieg grinned. "Kurt. Didn't expect to run into you out here. What can I do you for?"
Kurt desperately wanted to say nothing, but he'd promised Lance to at least try. Besides, maybe Lance's tactic could have some benefit to it. "Actually, I wanted to talk with you."
"Oh? What about?"
"Um." Kurt looked nervously around. Even though most of the students were occupied in classes or the lunchroom, he didn't really want to have this conversation out in the hallway.
Seeing his hesitation, Trieg kindly smiled. "Come with me. I know for a fact that Ms. Applegate is taking her lunch right now. Her classroom should be empty."
Trieg led Kurt just a ways down the hall to Ms. Applegate's classroom, and after unlocking the room, held open the door for Kurt.
Not seeing much of a choice, Kurt entered and walked down the middle of a row of desks to put some space between him and Trieg.
After closing and locking the door behind him, Trieg closed the gap the Kurt had tried to create. He stood right next to Kurt and gestured towards one of the desks.
"Take a seat."
"No, I'm fine." Kurt backed up a step, but Trieg followed him.
"I insist, sit down." Trieg put his hands on Kurt's shoulders and practically shoved him into a desk chair.
Feeling like he'd already lost control of the conversation, if he ever had it in the first place, Kurt's apprehension turned into outright anxiety. This was a bad idea. He felt trapped, backed up against the metal bar that connected the seat to the desk.
Trieg towered over Kurt, his muscular form intimidating and daunting. Kurt desperately wished he had something to occupy his hands with.
"So, what did you want to talk about?"
"I.…" Kurt started. He looked down at his hands in front of him. He didn't even know how to begin.
Trieg knelt down beside him and placed his hand on Kurt's knee. "It's ok. You can tell me anything. I won't judge."
Kurt jerked his knee away and watched as Trieg's expression changed to confusion. Feeling emboldened, Kurt gathered up his courage to explain his feelings. "I don't like it when you do that." He paused a second, his eyes automatically reading one of the trite posters hanging from the wall. "You Can Do It!" it read in primary yellow. Kurt, for once, decided to take its advice. He couldn't stop there. He needed to say exactly what he meant. "I don't like it when you touch me."
The confusion plaguing Trieg's face quickly transformed into a fierce scowl. Kurt felt his already racing heart quicken to an unfathomable pace. With the bar blocking his way, he was cornered with no escape.
"Didn't I tell you to listen to me? Remember in my office?" Trieg practically growled out.
"Ja, I know but it just doesn't seem right…" Kurt tried to plead, to allay Trieg's anger, but his petition fell on deaf ears.
"You aren't listening to me again." Trieg's hand shot out and roughly grabbed Kurt by his arm. Trieg's grasp was tight and painful, and Kurt had no room to squirm out of the hold. He toyed with whether to teleport in his mind, but considered that only as a last resort in the most exigent circumstances. Even though Trieg was manhandling him, the situation didn't yet warrant revealing his powers.
"Now I want you to listen closely to me." Trieg replaced his hand on Kurt's knee. "I am in charge. You do what I say. You've already let me touch you here," He moved his hand higher up on Kurt's leg, "and here." Trieg moved his hand again to place it on Kurt's crotch. "If you back out now, then you're just a big, fucking tease. You let me go this far. Anything else that happens, you know you want it too."
He slid his hands under the bottom of Kurt's shirt and began to unbutton his pants. Both arms now free, Kurt pushed against him hard, almost causing Trieg to fall backwards, but he didn't have quite enough leverage from his seated position. Still, it forced Trieg to remove his hands to catch himself. Taking advantage of Trieg's imbalance, Kurt sprung up from the desk, but Trieg quickly recovered.
This time, no pretense of gentleness was used. Catching Kurt by his shoulders, Trieg brutally thrust him back into the desk, causing it to scoot across the floor.
At the moment, the sound of a key scraping against the door averted any more aggression from Trieg.
Trieg stepped back just as Ms. Applegate walked through the door. She walked over to her desk and dropped her lunchbox before noticing she had company.
"Oh! I didn't notice you in here. Am I interrupting anything?"
Trieg smiled kindly. "Of course not. I was just wrapping up my conversation with Kurt. Just needed somewhere private to talk."
"Is there… anything wrong?" Ms. Applegate was studying Kurt now. Realizing he must be showing his distress, Kurt did his best to wipe any emotion from his face.
"Nothing at all." Trieg held out a hand for Kurt to use to get up, but Kurt just ignored it and stood up on his own. A dark shadow fluttered across Trieg's face before he turned back around to Ms. Applegate.
Quickly hurrying past Trieg and Ms. Applegate, Kurt made a beeline for the door, ready to get the hell out of the classroom.
When he reached to open the door, Trieg's voice stopped him for just a second. "Remember what I said. I'd suggest you to take my advice."
In response, Kurt just let the door close with a click.
Kurt flopped on his bed, face down, ready for this day to end. His terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. He pulled a pillow over his head, blocking out the moonlight that filtered through his French doors. The darkness didn't help bar his thoughts from running amok in his brain.
Right from the beginning of the day, he should've just stayed in bed. First, his inducer had shorted out on him just as he was about to leave for school. It seemed that the inducer with the bad battery actually had an internal miswiring. So, he wasted his morning searching for his sole working inducer. Of course, it was in the last place he looked - buried under the covers he'd tossed off his bed. Maybe it does pay off to make your bed in the morning.
All in which made him tardy for school.
Then the conversation with Trieg at lunch had been a disaster. Not only was the situation totally out of his control, if Ms. Applegate hadn't have entered, he didn't know what Trieg would've done. Not wanting to relive that moment, he forced his thoughts away. As if somehow not thinking about it made it not real.
And then the topping on the cake. For the first time since last school year, the X-men and the Brotherhood had a run-in. And of course, Lance was there. For the most part, Kurt had avoided engaging with him. He didn't think he could go on the offensive against him, and he really didn't want to give Lance the opportunity to attack him. Luckily, he never had to find out as Lance must've thought similarly and used his powers away from Kurt. Still, Kurt wound up having to teleport some bystanders that were about to be crushed by a falling sign jostled loose by one of Lance's quakes. The fact of the matter was they were on opposing sides. But it was more than just that. Lance seemed apathetic or at least unaware of his actions harming innocents. If Lance had attacked him or someone else involved in the fight, that would be one thing. But people who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time…. Was that someone he really wanted to be friends with?
What if Lance had hurt them? Or even one of his teammates? Where would that leave them? He didn't know if he could so readily forgive Lance if Rogue or Scott had been gravely wounded by him. He bet that Lance felt the same for him. And it's not like he could separate Avalanche from Lance. They were code names, nothing more.
And this was something important to him. He liked protecting others. Not only did it make him feel good, it was the right thing to do. Lance was standing in complete opposition of that.
It was so confusing and stressful to think about. He did want to maintain his friendship with Lance but was it possible? He couldn't think of any good answers.
Maybe if he went to sleep, the answer would come to him. Or at least give him respite from his rotten day. Kurt could only hope that his dreams would somehow be a panacea that would erase all his problems.
Unfortunately, sleep was not the miraculous cure-all that Kurt wished for. Instead, gymnastics practice loomed all day in his mind. Made only worse when Ms. Applegate cornered him to tell him he could talk to her any time. It was nice to know a teacher cared, but Lance already knew, well sort of knew, about Trieg. He didn't need a teacher suspecting now too.
He almost thought of just skipping gymnastic practice, but he wanted to get things sorted with Lance. …But then again, he also didn't want to see him either. He may not have made up his mind about Lance, but at least he was certain he didn't want to see Trieg. His stomach seemed to tie itself in knots just thinking about him. Still, there was only 2 weeks left of gymnastics and then one last, final tournament. He could make it through.
Surprisingly, Trieg had been absent all practice, except the very beginning, and even then, he hadn't approached Kurt. Otherwise, Trieg had gone once to the locker rooms and then spent the rest of the time in his office. Not having to deal with the coach put Kurt more at ease, but he could feel a subtle tension between him and Lance. It wasn't on purpose, but he didn't talk to Lance the whole practice. They both just happened to always be working on different apparatuses. He really didn't want things to get all weird between them again, but he was having a hard time reconciling their friendship with their adversarial teams.
Feeling disappointed, Kurt headed back to the locker room with the others to get ready to go home. Kurt spied his water bottle creating a wet ring on the bench in front of his locker. He felt idiotic. He could've sworn he bought it out with him to practice and had spent a good chunk of time looking for it. Feeling like he was dying of thirst, Kurt took a few minutes just to rehydrate. After gulping down half the bottle, Kurt sat down on the bench, facing his locker. He wanted to approach Lance, but didn't know how to go about it. He sat there a minute, taking a few more sips of water; but before he could stand up to change, Lance came over and sat down heavily next to him, facing the aisle.
In a hushed voice so the other team members wouldn't overhear, Lance said, "I don't want you to give me the silent treatment again because of yesterday."
"I'm not," Kurt protested.
"Yeah, you are." Lance's voice rose in volume for a second before continuing in a lower tone. "You know, I made sure not to attack you."
"I know, but –" Kurt cut himself off as Mark came over to them.
"Sorry I missed you guys this weekend," Mark said as a greeting. "Lance, you'll have to join us at lunch so we can catch up."
"Sounds good," Kurt replied, wanting to wave Mark off without being rude so he and Lance could finish their conversation.
"Yeah, lunch," Lance agreed.
"Cool. Catch you guys tomorrow, then." Mark slung his bag over his shoulder and headed off, leaving just Jose left in the locker room.
Kurt waited impatiently for him to pack up his stuff, toying with his water bottle before placing it beside him. Finally, Jose bid them goodnight, leaving just them two of them alone again.
"But what?" Lance asked. He had his arms crossed, as if wary of Kurt's reply.
"Well, you almost killed an old couple."
"You saved them, didn't you? So why should it matter?"
"What if I hadn't?"
Lance stood up and began pacing. "Well, then…" He swiftly turned towards Kurt, gesturing in belligerence. "You just don't get it. You just don't like that I'm with the Brotherhood."
Kurt stood up too, the bench creating a barrier between them. "That's cause all the Brotherhood stands for is superiority at the expense of innocent people." Why couldn't Lance see just how wrong the Brotherhood was?
"More like we stand for our right to exist. If others get in our way, then that's their fault."
"That's not fair. People aren't even aware we exist."
"And what. You think that'd make a difference? You think anyone here would accept you as you really are?"
Kurt leaned back against his locker, feeling a slight wave of dizziness, but passed it off as not having any water until after practice. "Considering you don't even."
"What does that mean?" Lance's tone was indignant. Any hopes Kurt had of having a civil conversation had long vanished.
"It's not like you're actually going to sit with Mark and me at lunch tomorrow. You couldn't stand being seen with me where others might see."
"Pietro and them wouldn't understand if we started hanging out together suddenly."
"So? You're just ashamed that-" Kurt paused in what he was saying, suddenly feeling the locker room start to tilt. Maybe he just needed to sit down for a second.
"Fucking Christ, stop putting words into my mouth. I'm not ashamed. They'd probably start picking fights with you and probably me too."
Kurt rested his head against his hand, trying to make his vertigo pass. "I thought you were trying to be better. Like you said at the park."
Lance's eyes grew wild with anger. "Are you kidding me? That's so fucking low. I'm entitled to my own opinions, and…"
Kurt regretted saying that, but felt it hard to concentrate on the conversation. He let whatever Lance yell rush pass him, hoping that Lance would eventually run out of steam. There was a pause, and Kurt realized he was awaiting a response from him. Kurt had no idea what Lance had said and so just shrugged.
"Fine, whatever. I can see you care so much about this." In a huff, Lance turned around and left, not even grabbing his bag resting by his locker.
Kurt sat on the bench, feeling sick with regret on how the conversation ended, as well as overwhelmed by a rising dizziness.
Feeling a weight settle down next to him, Kurt peeked from his hand, hoping to see Lance but his stomach about dropped out when he spotted Trieg.
"Heard you and Alvers arguing. Everything ok?"
Kurt nodded as he stood up away from Trieg. That was a mistake. The locker room spun around him, and Kurt ended up leaning onto his locker shelf for support.
Trieg sighed. "I'm tired of this game." He stood up behind Kurt, reaching for his waist, but despite his wooziness, Kurt was not going to let Trieg touch him again. He tried elbowing Trieg, but his thrust came out weak. Something was really wrong with him.
Angered by Kurt's inept defense, Trieg growled, "Why won't you do as I say?" He roughly pulled Kurt away from his locker and back against his chest.
"Let me tell you exactly what I'm going to do," Trieg said as he backed them up to the bench. Forcing Kurt down onto the bench, Trieg sat astride behind him. "I'm going to take my huge cock and it's gonna be dripping with cum." Trieg drew one of Kurt's leg over the bench, so that he sat squarely between Trieg's legs. The clattering of his water bottle being knocked off the bench and rolling on the floor seemed deafening loud only to be replaced by Trieg's heavy breathing in his ear.
Pressed so close to Trieg, he could feel Trieg's threat jutting into his back.
"Then you'll lick it up like a fucking dog on your knees. My cum will be on your lips." Trieg stroked his thumb over Kurt's lips. "In your fucking mouth, and you'll swallow it like candy." He dipped his finger into Kurt's mouth before rubbing it back over his lips again. "Then I'm going to take some lube and make you rub my cock. Fucking up and down like a goddamn whore."
As if to demonstrate, Trieg started to dip his hand underneath Kurt's pants.
Kurt didn't care anymore if Trieg found out about his ability. He couldn't let Trieg do this. But instead of the familiar pull of teleportation, Kurt almost blacked out. Black spots filled his vision before fading away. Panic set in. He couldn't escape. He tried to force Trieg's hands away, but it was like an infant battling a tiger. He tried teleporting again, but this time he was completely enervated. He would've tipped forward if not for Trieg holding him up. Not willing to risk passing out, he didn't attempt a third port.
By now, Trieg was aware something was different about Kurt. He had stopped his hand's downward journey. "What is this?" Trieg began feeling under Kurt's shirt, running his hands slowly up and down his chest, as if both exploring and caressing at once.
Suddenly, Trieg hauled Kurt up and then threw him on his back onto the floor between the two sets of benches lining the lockers. Immediately, Kurt tried to back away, but he couldn't move fast enough. Before Kurt could turn around to get up, Trieg had forced him back over and straddled down on top of him. Kurt let out a sob half in protest and half in fear, but Trieg ignored him. Wasting no time, he began to lift Kurt's shirts up.
"It feels like… fur? But…" Trieg started to say.
Kurt tried to fight back but all of his energy felt sapped – his movements feeble and slow.
After marveling a bit longer, Trieg smiled. "It's strange but soft. I don't understand how it's possible, but I think I like it." His hands grew aggressive, pausing places, dipping slightly beneath his pants.
"Stop, please." Kurt's protest came out weak. He felt like he could barely lift his arms or tail, like a butterfly pinned in a case.
For a second, Trieg paused to muse at Kurt's pathetic struggling. "Shh." He brushed away some of Kurt's hair from his face. "I told you to listen to me but you wouldn't." Forcing Kurt to sit up slightly, he started lifting Kurt's shirts up completely now. "So I had to make you listen. Make it so that you'd be ready." His undershirt was tight and felt suffocating as it passed over his head. "You see how much you want this? I'm just helping you. Letting you get what you want. It's going to be a gift, when I put my cock in you and fuck you so hard. "
By now, his shirts had become entangled on his wrists. Trieg pulled roughly but the undershirt had caught up against Kurt's inducer. After one forceful tug, his ersatz image faded away, the switch toggled by his bunched shirt.
Trieg stopped and stared. He shoved Kurt's hands, still entangled in his shirt, above his head.
Spread out beneath Trieg, Kurt found it difficult to breath. The floor felt like it was swaying back and forth beneath him and he couldn't stop Trieg from talking, from touching him, from staring. He couldn't even tear his hands free from the makeshift restraint of his shirts. He felt helpless and exposed. His stomach roiled in fear.
Trieg touched his face, turning it from side to side before letting his hands trail down his body. Kurt felt like a slab of meat being inspected and examined.
"B-bitte." He tried again, desperate.
Finally, Trieg exhaled out. "I knew you were different. Special. But this…" He ran a finger over one of Kurt's ears to the pointed tip. "And the fur. I knew I felt it. I just never thought…"
Kurt had desperately wanted Trieg to be revolted, but instead he could feel a bulge against his thigh.
"I wonder..." Trieg ground his erection against him while continuing to run his hands across his chest, up his arms before returning to caress his face. With Trieg stroking his face, Kurt could see the lust in his eyes. Eyes that bored into him as the rest of the room spun around like a merry-go-round. Kurt tried to turn away from his stare, but Trieg forcefully grabbed his hair so tightly he couldn't move his head away. Bending down, Trieg kissed Kurt roughly. His other hand grabbed Kurt's jaw, forcing his mouth open slightly so that he could dip his tongue inside. Kurt tried to bite down but Trieg's grip was like a vice. He could practically feel hairs being ripped from his head while the other hand was sure to leave a strange set of bruises along his jawline. As he began to withdraw, Trieg bit down on Kurt's lip, drawing blood as if to mark him.
Trieg sat back and watched the blood well up on Kurt's lip. He grinded himself against Kurt again while leaning down to lick the blood off Kurt's lip. He broke off continuing on his thought from before. "I wonder just how much of you is covered in fur. Is it everywhere?"
With that, Trieg began to push Kurt's pants down.
A feeling of hopelessness encroached on Kurt. His hands trapped, deprived of teleportation, the only thing Kurt could do was beg Trieg to stop. But any plea was in vain.
Lance really didn't want to go back to the locker room, but he had stupidly forgotten his bag. He could only hope that Kurt wasn't there anymore. He didn't want to repeat that conversation, especially now that he was so fucking furious. Angry at himself for letting himself get so angry and angry at Kurt for not just accepting that he was with the Brotherhood. How come he got to be so high and mighty? Lance wanted to punch something. And he was desperately trying to bury that feeling of disappointment. If they couldn't get over this, then where would that put their friendship? Or more? Lance scoffed at himself. There was no more. That was only in his mind and there it would stay.
Any grumblings to himself were instantly cut off as soon as he opened the door to the locker room. The scene that greeted him left him staring in shock. Trieg was straddling Kurt, an uninducered Kurt. No, not just straddling but grinding himself against him before licking his lip. Lance was frozen to his spot. It was surreal, like a horrible nightmare displayed before him.
Finally, Trieg's voice broke the spell over Lance. He felt ashamed that he had had the same question as Trieg, but he couldn't worry about that now.
Lance clenched his fists. His anger, already at the surface, sprung lose. He stepped into the locker room, uncontrolled tremors vibrating out. "Get off of him. Now."
Trieg looked up in surprise, but remained on top of Kurt. "Alvers. I suggest you leave."
Furious that Trieg seemed unconcerned and hadn't even removed his hands from Kurt's pants, Lance didn't hold back his wrath. The whole room started to shake. A few lockers fell over, making a loud clang that reverberated throughout the room.
Finally, a shocked expression spreading over his face, Trieg stood up off of Kurt.
"Yeah, that's me, you fucking asshole. You better get the fuck out of here before I open a goddamn hole underneath you."
Trieg hesitated and looked down at his prey who was so vulnerable and ready for him.
Not liking the lascivious look Trieg gave Kurt, Lance released another tremor. "Fucking now!"
Fully realizing the danger Lance posed, Trieg bolted out of the room. Lance wanted desperately to follow him and beat the shit out of him, but he restrained himself, knowing that Kurt needed him.
Trying not to shake in anger, Lance knelt down next to Kurt. He didn't understand why Kurt remained lying there, but decided to help him sit up. He leaned Kurt's upper body against one of the benches before standing up.
Why Kurt wasn't doing anything? Why did he let Trieg just use him? His simmering fury broke free again. He began pacing around the locker room, gesticulating wildly. "Fucking Christ. Why the fuck didn't you teleport out? Are you fucking stupid? This isn't something to fucking –" Lance stopped mid-rant, noticing that Kurt seemed to be shaking while making small struggles to free his hands from his shirts.
"Fuck," Lance mumbled under his breath before going over to help. Now was not the time for him to explode. It was just first their argument and then this. He needed to calm himself down. Taking deep breaths, he pulled Kurt's hands free, letting the intertwined shirts drop to the floor. "Ok, right. Sorry. I'm calming down. Are you okay?"
Kurt shook his head, hair curtaining off his face.
"Right, stupid question. Let's get you off the floor." Lance struggled to settle Kurt on to the bench. It was like he was maneuvering a limp ragdoll. After a few grunts, Lance settled them both on the bench in front of Kurt's locker. Kurt practically leaned against him completely, as if he couldn't sit up on his own.
Finally getting a look at Kurt's face, Lance saw that his eyes were all glassy and unfocused. "What's wrong with you?"
He waited a second as Kurt gathered his thoughts.
His voice came out slightly slurred and accent thick. "Ich denke…" Kurt paused to refocus his thoughts. "I think Trieg drugged me."
"What? How?"
"My wasserflasche."
It took Lance a second to figure out what Kurt meant but wasser wasn't that hard to translate. He saw the innocuous bottle lying flat on its side, just peeking out from under the bench.
The small amount of water left swished as Lance picked it up. The contents looked normal but Lance remembered Kurt downing it just after practice. It was the only explanation. Putting it down beside him, Lance's mind scrambled to come up with a plan of action.
Kurt's shaking had barely subsided. Unsure, Lance hesitatingly put his hand on Kurt's shoulder.
"I'm sorry." Lance wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for, but he didn't know what else to say.
Kurt shook his head in response. Lance didn't know if he was trying to clear his thoughts or wave off Lance's apology. "Just want to go home."
"Yeah. Let me get my stuff." Lance slowly stood up, helping Kurt to rest his hands against the bench to stay upright.
He quickly retrieved his bag, wanting to get out of there in case Trieg changed his mind. He stuffed Kurt's water bottle into his bag, figuring that it might be of use to determine what Trieg had exactly drugged Kurt with.
Looking over at Kurt, observing his half-clothed state and quivering form, Lance felt sick. What would have happened if he hadn't come in? Trying not to think of what could've been, Lance dug around in his backpack for his cellphone. He paused, realizing how idiotic it would be to call a Brotherhood member. Kurt didn't need that right now.
Instead, Lance walked over to Kurt's locker, looking for his phone.
"Hey, I'm going to use your cellphone to call us a ride. What's your password?" Lance asked as he finally found it hidden under a shirt.
Not receiving a response, Lance turned towards Kurt. He sat down next to him again, and pushed him up a bit to grab his attention. "Hey. You gotta focus, ok. I need-" Lance pushed down on the power button and didn't receive a response. Dead. Fucking Murphy's Law.
"Was?"
"Nothing. We gotta walk. Hang on." Lance stood up to retrieve Kurt's shirt from his locker and then threw his dead cellphone and the rest of his stuff in his bag. "Let's put this on you." After a bit of a struggle – it's not easy putting a shirt on someone else – Lance succeeded. "Can you turn on your inducer? It's going to be a bit of a walk."
Kurt nodded and fumbled a bit before pushing the correct button.
Now looking like two normal teens, Lance grabbed their bags before helping Kurt up. It was going to be a long trek to the mansion.
XXXXXX
I believe I've read somewhere that PB&J sandwiches in Germany (and possibly other countries) is seen as strange, foreign and gross. They are all wrong.