Extra warning about cussing:
Please note my warnings that the characters will cuss in this fic. If you take umbrage to any of the cussing, please consider moving on to a different fic that is not rated R.
Also, I try to keep the cussing in character. This is why Kurt rarely cusses, and Lance cusses like a sailor. Also, as I have stated before, while I am trying to make Lance likeable, he is still not PC and will say inappropriate things from time to time.
Chapter 11
Kurt was roughly flung into an empty, secluded storeroom. He landed harshly on the cold concrete - his knees cracking against the hard floor, his hands barely catching himself in time so he wasn't flat out on the ground. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet but couldn't suppress a flinch when Trieg flipped on the lights. The dim, lone bulb only accentuated the small space. As Trieg's heavy breathing filled the room, Kurt could feel bile rising in his throat. His thoughts spun around the mantra of "no." He backed up, keeping watch on Trieg while also eyeing the distance to the doorway. Trieg's approach spurred his heart into overdrive.
"Looking for a way out?" Trieg smirked, knowing his large stature blocked any route to escape. "I doubt this time anyone will be interrupting us."
Trieg slowly closed the gap between them – each intimidating step causing Kurt's breath to quicken. He reached out towards the wall behind him, looking for some anchor, something solid to ground his thoughts away from the fear and panic threatening to consume him. It was just so hard when Trieg was right there in front of him.
He crossed under the singular bulb causing his face to fall from shadow to highlighted in its callousness.
"Just us. No one to stop me from getting my just desserts."
Kurt took one purposeful step back. But it wasn't a step in retreat. His hand made contact with the wall, and he concentrated on the roughness of the concrete. It was a step that helped him focus. Helped remind him that he still had some control of the situation.
Now just inches away, Trieg reached out his hand towards Kurt's face.
Burying his shame and fear while gathering his courage, Kurt looked up, staring straight into Trieg's eyes and slapped the hand away. He refused to reveal any turmoil raging inside; instead, a fierce expression was painted across his face. "I'll stop you."
With that, he revealed the ace up his sleeve and teleported.
QQQQ
The shower stall was empty, its blue curtain shielding Kurt from the rest of the locker room bathroom. He could hear someone finishing up just outside, humming some ditty under their breath as they turned on the sink. Luckily, they must've not heard him porting into the stall.
He felt undone. Now that the moment was over, his fleeting triumph faded fast. He couldn't stop the tremors in his hands or slow down his heart. He backed away from the curtain, needing to get as far away as possible from any person, any possible threat. His calves hit the low bench of the shower, and he quietly sat down, arms clutching knees. He buried his face in his knees while his hands gripped his hair. He curled his tail around his feet, just waiting for some sense of calm to descend.
He wanted to throw up. One of the few things that had helped him over the past few weeks was knowing that Trieg was gone. Wouldn't leer at him, touch him, caress him ever again. A false comfort completely shattered. Had he been there the whole time? Watching him during the tournament? Or what about while he was at school? Trieg had driven him home once. Had he been outside the mansion too?
He didn't know how long he sat there – it felt like both an eternity and a millisecond. Letting his thoughts run was a mistake. Somehow he felt even worse with all scenarios speeding through his head. Shakily, he checked his inducer. It had only been five minutes. There were still 30 more minutes left of the break. He couldn't, wouldn't allow himself to sit there for the rest of it.
As had been shown to him the past few weeks, he wasn't alone. He didn't have to face it without help.
Pushing open the curtain was the hardest first step. The locker room was mostly empty. The few in there were too busy stretching or pepping themselves up to pay attention to Kurt.
The hallways stretched miles as Kurt constantly kept glancing over his shoulders or in the shadows. His hands were clenched at his sides, trying his best to keep himself from falling apart from the ever-present fear.
The steep stairs leading to the stadium seating were the last obstacle, but he could see them now – Jean, Scott and Logan. Their presence was enough to abate some of his panic, but they were also intimidating. He had given Jean and Scott a bare bones rundown of what had happened with Trieg. And of course, they were supportive. And recently, Logan had been more than just a teacher – a mentor of sorts. But having to tell them it had happened again… it froze him to the spot.
Then Logan caught his eyes and that was all that was needed for him to come rushing down the stairs.
"What's wrong?" Logan grasped his shoulders and stared intensely, as if he had developed telepathy and could read his mind.
Kurt felt his adrenaline rise again. He tried to swallow down his fear, but instead it ran like molasses down his throat to settle into a tight encasement around his heart. "He was here."
Logan immediately began scouring the audience before turning his attention back to Kurt. "Where!" He practically growled out.
"The hallways." The pressure and proximity of Logan was getting to be too much. He twisted a bit and took a step back.
Logan breathed in deep, regaining his own composure. By now, Jean and Scott had joined them on the bottom stair. A few people gave them dirty looks as they pushed past them with their popcorn and soda.
"What's wrong?" Jean glanced worriedly between Kurt and Logan.
Ignoring her, Logan continued questioning Kurt. "Did he do anything?"
Kurt's expression must've given something away because he suddenly found himself being directed out the vomitorium and into the hallways. Surrounded by Jean, Scott, and Logan, he felt like he was being escorted by his own personal security detail. Even still, he couldn't help but keep darting his eyes every which way until they reached a more secluded area.
Logan eventually stopped them in a shadowed recess of the hallway when he deemed the crowd had thinned enough.
"Alright. First, you okay?"
Kurt nodded. The brief walk had helped him reign in his fear. While he wasn't feeling as desperate as he did before, an unsettling feeling still permeated every thought, every action.
"He didn't hurt you?"
Kurt shook his head. "No." Though that was a bit of a lie. Now that the adrenaline had subsided, a throbbing in his wrist was making itself known. While he appreciated Jean and Scott's concern, their presence was off-putting. He knew Logan was going to want details, but with them around, it was difficult to be open.
"Jean, you remember Coach Trieg?"
A dawning light spread through Jean's eyes at the mention of Trieg. "He was here?! What did he do? Are you okay?"
"Im ok-"
Scott's hand rose up to his glasses automatically, peering out suspiciously at any passerby, as he chimed in. "What! I can't believe he'd try again! And-"
"Stop. Both of you," Logan cut them off. Well trained, both immediately complied. "First, as you can see, Kurt is ok."
Kurt immediately nodded, not wanting to raise any more questions.
Jean and Scott looked dubious, but Logan was still talking so they said nothing.
"As I was asking, Jean and you too Scott, do you remember Coach Trieg?"
"I had him for P.E. ninth through twelfth grade," Jean responded. She cast a side glance towards Kurt. Are you sure you're okay? You don't seem it.
Kurt was a bit surprised at Jean's sudden intrusion, but at least it didn't seem like she was trying to read his thoughts. I'm fine. Really.
Okay. Just… let me know if I can do anything to help.
I think Logan's already telling you how.
Jean looked over to Logan who was staring at her with a raised eyebrow. "You finished?"
"Yes, sorry."
"Good," Logan continued. "I want you to start scanning for him and follow the hall clockwise. Scott, you start counter-clockwise. If you see him, then contact me first. If not, meet up back at our seats."
"Got it," Scott said. Face furrowed with intensity, he turned towards Kurt. "We'll find him and stop him." He took a step down the hallway before suddenly turning back. "And you know what?" A smile spread over his face. "You were amazing out there! First place, all the way!" He slapped Kurt on the back before taking off down the hall, head already swiveling back and forth.
Kurt couldn't help but smile at Scott's enthusiasm and praise.
"He's right. Very impressive." Jean also had a smile on her face.
Kurt appreciated what they were both trying to do and for a brief moment, it worked. "Thanks."
Jean nodded before heading the opposite direction of Scott - her thoughts focused outward on expanding her telepathic range.
That brief moment faded as soon as Logan turned his attention back towards him.
"Alright, they'll let us know if they find anything. But first, tell me exactly what happened."
Kurt hugged his wrist to his chest, feeling the dull pain spike as he recounted his encounter with Trieg. "I was going to go grab some Gatorade for Lance, Mark and me then visit you guys when Trieg came up from behind. He grabbed my wrist and said he'd tear off my inducer unless I did what he said."
Logan stared stonily at Kurt, his teeth clenched in anger.
Watching Logan's suppressed rage rise and having to retell everything so soon was making his throat tighten. Kurt looked anywhere but at Logan. "I-I didn't know what else to do, so I let him lead me to some storeroom. But I teleported out as soon as he let go." He shrugged at the end, as if telling himself that it wasn't such a big deal.
"Did he touch you in any way?"
Remembering Trieg's caress down his back and along his tail made his breath slightly hitch. But it had been so brief a moment, it didn't really count.
Just as Kurt was about to shake his head in denial, Logan stopped him. "Don't. Don't cover up for him."
Whatever else Logan was going to say was cut off by Lance's untimely approach.
"Kurt! I've been looking everywhere for you. Mark's buying nachos and I already picked up the Gatorade no thanks to your slow ass…." As Lance drew closer, his voice drifted off when he finally saw an irate Logan next to a distraught-looking Kurt. "What's wrong?"
Kurt wordlessly pleaded with Logan to explain. He didn't want to have to again.
Logan must've caught on as he simply said, "Trieg was here."
Lance almost came unglued - his eyes becoming twin burning pinpricks while he clenched his fist so tight, making as if he was going to punch the wall. "That fucking asshole!"
Kurt felt guilty for bringing Lance into his problems when he really should just be concentrating on the tournament at hand. "I'm fine." He tried to smile brightly but it felt weird and strained, so he let it fall from his face.
"Yeah, I can tell," Lance acerbically replied.
"I didn't let him do anything. I teleported away," Kurt meekly defended. He felt like he had to. This time he really did try to escape as soon as possible. Not like all the other times before. This time he really wasn't at fault. …Or was he? Maybe he should've teleported sooner? But then what if anyone saw? Then again, no one saw Trieg fondle him in the hallway. And Trieg was so angry that he had lost his job because of him. If Kurt had stopped him from the very beginning, maybe it wouldn't have gotten so out of control. Kurt felt his breath quicken as his thoughts began to spiral.
A slight tremor under foot tore Kurt away from his turmoil.
"I'm not going to let him get away this time. Where is that fucker?"
"Get yourself under control now," Logan ordered.
For a second, it looked like Lance was about to retaliate before he let out a big put-upon sigh and nodded. He took a deep breath before releasing a snuff of air that he somehow made sound exasperated. He rolled his eyes to look at Logan, as if asking if that was satisfactory enough.
Logan just ignored Lance's attitude. "Scott and Jean are scouring for him now. We'll know as soon as they find something. We're going to the locker room, gathering your stuff," Logan directed towards Kurt, "and then leaving."
"What?"
"We're not staying if Trieg's around, and do you think you're ready to get out there and stand in front of the whole stadium?"
While Kurt could admit to himself he was still shaken up, he didn't want to leave either. "I can't abandon my team like that."
Logan, Scott and I didn't find any sign of Trieg. I don't think he's here anymore. I've scanned the whole stadium as best as I can and didn't find a stray thought that belonged to him.
Hn. Okay, stay where you are. We'll join you soon.
Kurt felt conflicted at Jean's news. He wasn't sure if he wanted Trieg to still be around and to have everyone confront him or for him to have just disappeared so he didn't have to deal with him.
"Jean said Trieg's gone," Logan relayed.
"Then it should be ok, right? For me to compete."
"If you could see how you look…"
Kurt could tell, though, that Logan just needed a bit of a push to relinquish. The danger was clear, and Logan was a sucker for loyalty. "If I leave now, our team could be disqualified."
"I'm fine with that. And I think the rest would be too if they knew." Kurt did not appreciate Lance's interjection.
Actually, Kurt wasn't looking forward to going back out for the second half, but it was something he had to do. Sure, he didn't want to leave his team hanging. But more than that, he wanted to prove to himself that Trieg couldn't hold that much sway over him. Prove that standing up to Trieg was not just some fluke.
"I'm fine, I swear." Which was more a reassurance to himself than to the others.
"Your wrist going to be okay?" Logan directed his stare to the wrist Kurt was still clutching at.
It hurt, but he'd had worse. "It's fine." Kurt moved his wrist around, suppressing a wince, as if to prove his point.
Logan looked a bit unconvinced but began walking towards the locker area. "Let me wrap it up for you. No need to risk further injury."
Logan would never admit to giving in, but Kurt had gotten better at reading "Loganism." He'd gotten his way. He wasn't sure if he should feel triumphant or not.
He trailed a bit behind Logan with Lance by his side.
"Are you sure you're okay? Did he, you know… do anything?"
Kurt was getting awfully sick of hearing that question. "Lance, I swear. I'm fine. He didn't do anything that bad."
"That bad? What does that mean?"
"Nothing. I mean …" Kurt made the mistake of looking at Lance. The concern in his eyes struck a nerve with Kurt, causing him to be a bit more open. "It was just some manhandling. Nothing like what you saw before, okay."
"That isn't much of a comfort."
They walked in uncomfortable silence until suddenly Lance grabbed Kurt 's hand, stopping them in their tracks. "Hang on."
A woman holding some nachos grumbled behind them before rudely shoving into Lance and continuing down the hallway. "Really? Stopping in the middle of the hallway. Assholes." Lance, in turn, shot her the middle finger before pulling them over to the side.
"Bitch," Lance muttered and rolled his eyes.
Kurt ignored Lance's crassness and gestured to Logan who was already fading into the crowd. "We're going to get behind."
"Just once sec." Lance blushed, raising Kurt's curiosity.
Thinking Lance looked rather charming that way, Kurt decided to give him a moment to gather his thoughts.
"You know… I know that you haven't told me - maybe anyone - everything that Trieg did to you." He rushed to add, "And you don't have to. I'm not saying that. Just… Just know that I'm here and would be willing to listen."
Kurt felt his own rising blush at the underlying sentiment. He wasn't sure what had come over Lance to be so forthright in his emotions, and he doubly wasn't sure why his heart decided to do a somersault in his chest. Either way, it was hard running a gamut of emotions in one small 40 minute break. "Thanks. I, um – "
Whatever Kurt was going to say was cut off by Logan stalking over to them angrily. "Somehow, in the short walk to the locker room you two had the time to get lost and cause me to have a heartatt- worry about what the hell happened to you two?!"
Feeling guilty at the unwarranted stress he caused Logan, Kurt apologized. "Sorry. We were just talking and got distracted."
Logan made a noncommittal reply but seemed accepting of the apology. "If we're gonna stay and do this, I want you with someone always. Me, Lance, Jean, or Scott, okay?"
"Okay."
"And make sure to contact Jean immediately if anything happens. She'll have her mind open."
"Alright."
Logan took a second to look Kurt up and down. Kurt squirmed under the obvious judgment, willing himself to suppress any anxieties while trying to dredge up even an ounce of confidence and calm.
He must've found what he was looking for, for Logan nodded. "Okay, then." He gestured down the hall to the locker room, forcing them to walk in front the rest of the way.
The locker room was crowded now that there were only a few minutes left until the tournament resumed. Logan got some curious glances but no one stood up to stop him.
Lance, Mark, and Kurt had set up their stuff towards the back of the room, and there was Mark, munching on the last of his nachos.
As soon as he spotted them, Mark put down his nachos on the bench and rushed over. "What's wrong? Who's this?" He eyed Logan suspiciously for a second before turning back to Lance and Kurt.
"He's one of the teachers at the boarding house I'm at," Kurt explained.
"Why's he back here? What's wrong? You all look upset."
Lance waved him away. "Later, okay?"
Mark seemed upset – once again being left out of the loop. Kurt felt guilty but now was not the time or place. "I promise. Just not now. Besides, don't you want to finish your nachos? How do you even eat in the middle of a competition? Especially when you still have the high bar left." Kurt made a retching noise.
Mark took the hint and let it drop. He shrugged. "Dunno. Stronger stomach."
"C'mon. I wanna get that wrist wrapped up before joining Scott and Jean." Logan led Kurt over to his bag and began rummaging around before pulling out a beige bandage.
The rest of the locker room buzz faded to the background as Logan wrapped his wrist. Sitting down for the first time, really stopping since Trieg had attacked, Kurt's anxieties shot back up as he thought about all the maybes and what ifs. He tried his best to breathe evenly, not wanting Logan to change his mind.
Logan's gentleness as he carefully wrapped the Ace bandage around his wrist was in sharp contrast to the lingering frustration on his face. Kurt tried to focus on that, on anything besides what had happened.
"What're you thinking?" Logan pried as he did up Kurt's wrist.
Kurt just shrugged his shoulders, not really wanting to have Logan privy to his thoughts right now.
Logan was silent a second, taking a glance at Lance who hadn't left Kurt's side, as if judging him worthy of what he was going to say, before voicing his thoughts. "I think I can wager a guess. I've said this before to ya and I'm gonna repeat myself again cause I think you need to hear it: Nothing you could've done would've changed anything. This is all Trieg's doing." Kurt made to protest as if this wasn't what he'd been dwelling on but Logan barreled on. "You can say over and over you're fine all you want, but doesn't mean it's true. Just know, that I know and Lance knows and so does the Professor and everyone else – you are not to blame."
Kurt sat there in silence, not sure how to respond.
"Alright. That should help." Logan affixed the silver clasp before getting up from the bench. "I'm gonna join Scott and Jean." He paused, as if going to add something else, but changed his mind. Instead, he put a reassuring hand on Kurt's shoulder before heading out.
Kurt felt embarrassed but also somehow slightly more at ease.
A large clap drew everyone's attention to the front of the locker room. A judge in a red tie with blue silhouettes of figures in gymnastic poses stood in the doorway. "Alright, guys. Time to make your way back out. Great first half of the tournament and great spectator turnout. Very exciting stuff!" The judge clapped his hands, this time in excitement, before turning around to leave.
"That guy seems way too enthusiastic about gymnastics," Lance commented as he sat down next to Kurt.
Kurt nodded.
"Logan's right, you know. It wasn't your fault."
"I know."
"No, you obviously really don't."
Kurt adjusted his bandage a bit and grabbed his handgrips before standing up. "Lance, we have to go."
Frustrated, Lance ran a hand through his hair. "I have your back. Ok? Always."
Kurt froze, struck by the absolute truth resonating in Lance's voice. First their earlier conversation and now this. He felt a small smile rise on his face. He turned back to Lance who was still sitting on the bench, looking uncomfortable and embarrassed. Kurt had the strange urge to kiss him.
His brain stalled, each thought crashing into that first sudden, out-of-nowhere impulse until the pile up was almost overwhelming.
"You guys ready for this? We're gonna do the shit out of some gymnastics!" Mark's comment was enough to break Kurt out of his brain loop.
"Hell yeah we are." Lance stood up and beat his fist against his palm in excitement.
Brushing away his epiphany, Kurt joined in. "Läßt tun es."
QQQ
Back out in front of the whole stadium - all eyes staring down - it was almost like standing in front of an audience without his inducer on. Like somehow they could all tell what had happened and found him wanting. He closed his eyes, trying to calm his nerves.
Hey, you got this, Kurt! Jean's voice rung through his head. He looked up at where she sat and saw only encouragement. Logan gave him a slight nod. His gaze then traveled over to Lance, who was watching him with intense eyes. He mouthed something, but Kurt couldn't make it out.
He took a step up to the mat and let everything fade. Logan, Scott & Jean, his throbbing wrist, Trieg, Lance. All to the back of his mind. All that mattered was what was in front of him. He took a deep breath, feeling an ease wash over him. The familiar, pliant blue beneath him. This was where he belonged.
With that, he let muscle memory take over.
QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ
The last week of school before the break was tough. Kurt couldn't help but feel constantly on edge since Trieg's assault at the tournament. He tried to concentrate on that moment just before he teleported away. Trieg's face had been painted in complete shock. But, walking down the hallway, it was like he could just appear out of nowhere. But if Trieg did ever get near him again, he could always teleport away again , right? In fact, he always felt like he was a moment away from teleporting. He had to tamper down that feeling at school or he knew he'd bamf out of there as soon as someone dropped a heavy textbook or clamped him down on the shoulder in greeting.
He couldn't wait for the break. The only thing he dreaded was the opportunity of Logan and the Professor having more talks with him. He didn't mind when the chats strayed far from Trieg, but recently, it seemed as if they were pressing the subject. Kurt was fine. He was. Besides, the Professor couldn't find a trace of Trieg, despite using Cerebro. Cerebro was more useful towards tracking down mutants, not pervy gym teachers.
The Professor and Logan weren't the only ones to take up the mantle of his badgering
Lance and Mark had also been a bit overprotective - always finding him during passing period. He had caught Mark up on what had happened at the tournament. Still, Kurt had taken to eating lunch with him this week to make sure he didn't feel left out again.
"How do you eat this food every day?" Mark made a face at the tacos gracing his plate. They looked fairly normal if you could get past the wilted lettuce. It was the first bite that revealed the hidden truth.
"Ja, the horrors of a stale-tell shell."
Mark shook his head in annoyance at Kurt but couldn't help release a small huff of laughter.
Encouraged, Kurt continued on. "The staley shell tells a tale of a stale shell. You know what the stale shell tells?"
"What, pray tell?" Mark rolled his eyes up at the ceiling as if somehow his salvation to atrocious word play lied up there.
"Next time, choose the enchiladas." Kurt took a bite of his gooey cheese tortilla. "I think the red sauce masks any grossness."
"Give me a bite then." Mark reached over and grabbed a forkful. He chewed for a second before mumbling, "Hmm, not bad."
"I hint a delicate touch of chili powder and maybe a touch of cumin." Kurt nodded regally as he examined the bite on his fork.
"Yes, yes. And Perhaps some garlic. Next time, garcon, go lighter on the salt."
They were so distracted with their game of food critics that they both jumped a mile when Lance dropped his tray next to Kurt.
"What're you losers up to now?"
Kurt almost thought that Lance was putting on a show of being an asshole for the Brotherhood but his smirk gave him away.
"Being idiots. Join us?" Mark asked.
Lance nodded and sat down. Kurt gave him a questioning look before directing his gaze at the Brotherhood who were looking shell-shocked at Lance's betrayal. Lance shrugged in return, dismissing any concerns.
"So what're you two being idiots about. Not like you aren't always idiots."
Kurt couldn't help but brilliantly smile at Lance. Having him finally join them during lunch, in front of Pietro and the others… it felt good. Lance's corresponding blush had Kurt thinking back to the tournament. Lance's "always" and offer to listen… they tended to linger on in Kurt's mind more often than not. It made him smile a touch when he thought of Lance. And then there was that urge to kiss him. He didn't know where that was coming from. It didn't help how strangely disappointed he felt last week when Lance made it clear that he was straight as an arrow. It's not like it mattered. He didn't even like Lance that way. It was probably just indigestion.
Mark stole another bite of food off Kurt's tray before answering Lance. "Talking about the food. Stealing Kurt's lunch."
Lance darted in with his own fork, stealing a bite for himself. "Hmm, not bad. I think the cafeteria lady likes you. Your enchiladas are way better than mine."
"It's probably because you're an ass to them. And stop taking my lunch!" Kurt wrapped his arms around his tray and hovered over it, ready to protect it from thieving friends.
"I'm not an ass."
"Ja, your 'What shit are we eating today?' was super polite and endearing."
"Whatever." Lance rolled his eyes before resigning himself to his own enchiladas.
"How's your wrist today?" Mark eyed the black ACE bandage around Kurt's wrist.
"Better. Thanks."
"Says the master who got first place on floor after having it…" Lance trailed off, unintentionally bringing up Trieg.
Mark picked up the slack. "Not just floor, but also on the vault and high bar. Not to mention your second and third places. You're not allowed to participate anymore. You make the rest of us look bad."
Kurt refused to let Lance's slip bring down the mood. "Says Mr. I got second on rings and pommel horse. And let's not forgot Lance's third on rings too."
"Fucking Christ, it's like we're jerking each other off here," Lance rolled his eyes but his smile belied the false modesty.
"We deserve it. So shut up." Mark flicked a bit of the red sauce lingering on his fork at Lance.
"Dick," Lance retorted while wiping off the specks from his face. "You better not have gotten some on my shirt."
"Consider it payment for your negativity and Arschloch demeanor," Kurt said.
"I'll show you arsh-lock demeanor," Lance mumbled. Mark and Kurt just stared at him until he sighed. "Fine. Yes, I agree. We're awesome."
"That's what I thought!" Mark took a triumphant bite of a distracted Kurt's enchiladas.
"And since we're so awesome, I feel like we need a toast to our awesomeness. Christ, they should serve booze at school. Let's get drunk this weekend."
"Can't. I'm leaving Saturday," Mark replied.
"Where to?"
"What my family always does during the break - visit my grandparents in Texas. Big family reunion type thing," Mark said. "You guys?"
"Staying here," Kurt shrugged. "I think my parents are going to visit my mom's mom."
"Why don't you go with them?"
Kurt backed himself into a corner there. He couldn't very well tell Mark that he never met his grandparents. It had been a bit of a sore spot, knowing that his grandparents wouldn't accept him. His parents were too nervous to even try to let his grandparents know he existed. They said it was better off this way. He comforted himself with the fact that they didn't sound like nice people anyway.
"Cause he's gonna be entertaining me." Lance came to the rescue. "We'll be sure to have some drinks in your honor."
Kurt grinned. "Sounds like a plan."
"You know what my parents say about drinking," Mark said.
Lance rolled his eyes. "And what's that."
"They're psychologists; they know about the effects."
"Here we go," Lance groaned.
"Be safe, have a DD and if you're gonna spew, spew in the toilet and not the sink, it'll clog."
"Was?" Kurt and Lance exchanged bemused looks. "Your parents really say that?"
"No. Idiots. Though they did say if I do do it, to do it safely." Mark shrugged.
The five minute bell rung. They continued pattering on while throwing away their trash away before making their way to their next periods.
"Hey," Kurt called to Lance before he turned down the hallway. He fidgeted a bit with his backpack. "Um, you wanna join us again tomorrow?"
Lance smiled. "Don't think you can get rid of me so easily."
Kurt laughed and walked off to his class.
QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ
The chilly weather that plagued the winter ensured that the encroaching holidays had a sheet of snow blanketing the trees and houses. The flickering light from the dying fireplace danced shadows on the walls as Kitty headed down to the kitchen the night before Christmas Day. Earlier, they had roasted marshmallows and created s'mores after having a delicious dinner cooked by Logan and Ororo.
Though her belly was full, she couldn't help but sneak down to steal one more latke as a late night snack. Despite Chanukah happening earlier in the month, Ororo had thoughtfully made them based on Kitty's own family recipe. Slathering on some sour cream and applesauce, Kitty wafted it beneath her nose. Thoughts of Chanukahs past – the menorahs' light slowly dying down through the night, the levivot, and eight presents, each more exciting than the last – filled her mind. Though she missed her family's traditions, she loved celebrating new ones with her other, mutant family. Besides, she'd go home for Passover and have her mom's cooking then.
Carrying the plate up to her room, she noticed a sliver of light piercing the darkness of the hallway. Thinking it strange that he'd be awake – after all it was already past 1 a.m.- Kitty shifted the plate in her hand and knocked as quietly as she could.
"Kurt?"
There wasn't a reply but she did hear some rustling and suddenly the light from under the door disappeared. Frowning, she repeated, a little more forcefully, "Kurt."
This time she got a reply. "Kitty? I'm sleeping, go away."
Cause that's not suspicious. Figuring she'd given him ample warning, she phased through the door and flicked the lights back on.
Kurt was buried under his covers, innocently blinking his eyes as if he had been sleeping. He looked off somehow. Kitty frowned a second, unconvinced.
"Was?"
Kitty gave him a disbelieving look before spotting a stray, black scarf sitting innocuously on the floor by the bed.
"Going somewhere?" She asked as she held the scarf up.
"No? Just haven't cleaned up in awhile."
Kitty didn't buy that for one second. Contrary to belief, Kurt was actually pretty tidy. She glanced around the rest of the spic 'n span room. "Really." With that, she walked over to the bed and wrestled the covers away from him.
Kurt reached to grasp the covers but Kitty was too fast. "Kitty, come on." Resigned to his fate, he got up out the bed, revealing his black winter coat and pants while clutching a matching beanie in his hand.
"What're you, a ninja?"
"Kitty," Kurt said plaintively while reaching for his scarf.
Kitty held the scarf out of his reach as she looked him over. "Not very ninja-like," she said as she threw his scarf at him. "Where are you going? It's 1 a.m.!"
Kurt wrapped the scarf around his neck while fishing for something that was on the opposite side of the bed. "Promise you won't tell anyone."
"Promise. Now spill."
"I told Lance I'd meet him."
"At this hour?"
Kurt sat up, holding a small, matte red gift bag with bits of white tissue paper sticking up. "Well, Lance doesn't really get to celebrate Christmas. Not with the Brotherhood, anyways. So… you know, I thought it might be nice to wish him a happy holiday."
"At 1 a.m.? Couldn't you, like, wait until tomorrow?"
Kurt shrugged. "Lance said he couldn't tomorrow. Besides, we're probably gonna be busy here."
Kitty sat down next to him on the bed. "Then… can I see what you got him? He was so hard to shop for when we were dating. Like, what do you get a guy who likes being so…" she paused as if searching for a word that wouldn't be too offensive, "so grumpy."
"He's not grumpy."
Kitty gave Kurt a look and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Let me see."
Kurt handed over the bag, and Kitty eagerly reached in. She pulled out a pair of thick, two-toned black leather gloves.
Kitty sat in silence for a second before turning to Kurt with a raised eyebrow. "Gloves… like for real?"
"Was?"
"That just seems so impersonal."
"Well, I noticed Lance's gloves were looking worse for wear and he's always complaining how cold his hands are outside. And he'll sometimes grab mine to warm his up – says I'm like a fur coat or something – and his fingers get all red when we're playing in the snow. So, I thought it might be nice if he got new ones…." Kurt explained as he felt a heat rush to his face. It seemed so embarrassing to explain his reasoning for buying the gift.
"Wow! I take it back. That was really thoughtful." Kitty examined the gloves a bit closer. They were a nice pair with a subtle weave on the front as well as the inside being fur-lined. Kitty sat back, a dawning look of comprehension on her face. "Oh my god."
"Was?"
"Oh my god," she repeated while turning huge eyes towards Kurt.
"What?"
"You like Lance!"
"Was?! I do not. Why would you even-"
"The gift and the way you talk about him and it's fur-lined. And you are so blushing."
"Am not! You can't even tell when I'm blushing! You can't see it through the fur." Kurt suppressed the desire to stick his tongue out at her.
"Your tail gives you away. It does this little loopy thing," Kitty drew in the air with her finger to illustrate, "and it totally was. Your tail was blushing!"
Kurt blushed even more at that. He didn't know if it was out of embarrassment for Kitty to point out an idiosyncrasy or if because there was a ring of truth in her statement about Lance.
"See! There it goes again!"
Kurt grabbed his tail in one hand to prevent it from betraying him. "Well, I don't." Though he knew he was beginning to question his feelings towards Lance. He didn't know when he had started to possibly like him in that way. Somehow, it had snuck up on him. Obviously, Lance was good-looking, but that's just surface. Now, Kurt caught himself thinking about the small things Lance did, replaying some of their conversations in his head. Sheisse.
"See?" Kitty could read Kurt's thoughts like a book.
"No," Kurt said petulantly. "Besides, it wouldn't matter even if I did like him. Lance's straight as a board."
"Maybe. But he is the one who wanted to meet so late."
"You're just reading too much into things." He snatched the gloves out of Kitty's hands and tucked it back inside the bag. "Besides, as you said a million times, he's your ex."
With a smirk firmly in place, Kitty watched Kurt artfully rearrange the tissue paper back to his liking. "Yeah, that was different. I was caught unawares. But now, like, I know you like him, so it's okay…. But he's still a jerk."
Kurt just shook his head, confused at Kitty's logic. "Whatever. You're wrong anyway." He did a quick sweep of the room, making sure he had everything one last time. "Ok. Don't tell anyone I'm gone?"
"My lips are sealed." She made a gesture as if zipping her lips before dropping her hands to her side. "Just, you know, be safe." Kitty couldn't help but be a bit worried with everything that had happened recently to Kurt.
"Promise." With that, he teleported.
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Logan was growing frustrated. He could see that Kurt's last encounter with Trieg had really shaken him. He was constantly busy – first with finals at school, then hanging out with Lance and that Mark kid, training with Scott, even cooking with Kitty. Most likely doing every thing but actually deal with his issues. Logan thought it was unhealthy, but he didn't know how to confront him. What if he ended up just making the situation worse?
One thing for sure, sneaking out was not the fucking answer. Didn't he know how worried Logan had been about him recently. How skipping off in the middle of the night while Trieg was out there was so foolish. Though the likelihood of Trieg crashing in on Kurt and Lance's secret rendezvous was highly unlikely… even so. Logan had his own theory of what was going on between Kurt and Lance but he'd let them figure it out. But that still didn't give Kurt some pass to the rules of the mansion.
So he waited, arms crossed with Kitty sitting in front of him, nervously shifting in the desk chair. He watched from the shadows when Kurt returned to his dark room, taking off his scarf with some silly smile on his face.
Logan wrenched down on the desk lamp chain, almost tearing it off in the process. "I see someone had a good time tonight."
Kurt's smile disappeared, replaced by open shock and chagrin. After he had taken in the whole tableau waiting for him, he hissed out, "Kitty!"
"I couldn't help it! He can, like, sniff out a lie a mile away."
"Not only lies, but that better not be alcohol I smell." Logan knew the answer already. While Kurt obviously wasn't wasted, Logan could certainly tell he'd been drinking.
"It's legal in Germany." Kurt grimaced, already biting his tongue for his quick retort.
"Last time I looked, we weren't in Germany," Logan growled back.
There was a small pause of silence. Kurt sat heavily down on the bed and dragged off his hat, resigned to his fate.
"Can I go now?" Kitty wanted to be anywhere but caught in Logan's crossfire.
"No, you are both in trouble."
"Me?" She stood up and whirled to face Logan, indignation written all over her face. "But I didn't do anything wrong!"
"You tried to cover up for him and lie. Accomplice to the crime."
"What? But that's, like, so unfair-"
"You're grounded for a week."
"A week? But that's New Year's and Samantha's having a party and –"
"A week."
"But Kitty didn't do anything!" Kurt interjected.
Logan was not amused at being contradicted. He turned his withering glare from Kitty to his next target.
"I-I forced her to lie," Kurt continued.
"Forced her…" Logan repeated disbelieving.
"Ja, I, um, I," Kurt exchanged glances with Kitty who looked at him hopefully, "I told her I'd drop her in the pool if she didn't."
"Drop her in the pool." Logan kept the same monotone voice, repeating after Kurt.
Kurt nodded emphatically. "Yeah. Um, it's really cold."
Logan couldn't believe what these kids were trying to pull. Did Kurt really think Logan would believe that he threatened Kitty? And in the pool? It was a stretch, at best, of a lie. However, he did find it admirable, them protecting each other.
Figuring he'd give them a chance to earn some brownie points, Logan turned back to Kitty. "Kitty?"
Kitty bit her lip in response and looked towards Kurt who motioned her to just agree. "No. God, you suck."
Logan suppressed the proud smile that threatened to melt his stern demeanor. That loyalty was admirable. But it didn't warrant complete forgiveness. Logan walked over to the main switch and flicked it on, giving them more light while also letting the two squirm for a bit. "While it's good to stick up for each other, you gotta know when it's the right time and when it isn't. So, Kitty, you get three days instead."
"Oh my god," Kitty sighed in relief. "That means I can totally make Samantha's party. I can still go, right?" Kitty turned hopefully eyes towards Logan.
"As long as you keep to the rules."
"Yes! Thank you!" Kitty almost leapt to hug Logan but stopped herself short. "I can go now, right?"
Logan nodded.
"Sorry," Kitty mouthed to Kurt before leaving him alone to face the music.
"And for you," Logan turned, a quiet seethe threading through his voice. "What an irresponsible and bone-headed thing to do."
Kurt looked down, ashamed at Logan's words, but Logan carried on.
"And with Trieg out there? He could-"
"I doubt he'd be able to-"
Logan growled, displeased with being interrupted. "It doesn't matter what he can or can't do. There are other desperate people out at this time of night as well as cops. What if you two had been caught drinking?"
Kurt shrugged , not looking up from his study of the floor.
"And I noticed you didn't take your inducer with you."
Kurt didn't say anything, unsure if Logan wanted a response or not.
"Well?" Logan tapped his foot impatiently. "Care to explain?"
"Lance doesn't like it."
"I don't care what Lance does or doesn't like. What if someone came upon you two?" Logan was exasperated at how careless Kurt had been. True, it was unlikely that Trieg or some random person would stumble upon Kurt. He also knew that generally Kurt was level-headed. Just with the recent circumstances, he preferred if he'd just play it safe. And he just seemed so cavalier about the whole thing. Rules were rules. Logan didn't appreciate being disobeyed. They couldn't have all the students running about after curfew. Especially if they were participating in underage drinking.
Growing more incensed as Logan worked out his thoughts, he made an executive decision. "Alright. Two weeks for sneaking out and three more weeks for drinking."
"Five weeks! It was only a couple of beers!"
"You can go home to Germany and drink all you want, but while you're here, you follow the law."
Kurt raised his hands as if to defend himself before dropping them in resignation. "Five weeks," he repeated in disbelief.
"Starting now. Now give me your phone."
Logan strode over to Kurt, who reluctantly dug out his phone from his pocket. Holding out his hand, Logan looked at Kurt pointedly.
"Can I just make one last text?"
Logan stared back.
"Just so, you know, Lance doesn't freak out? Please?"
Swayed – he didn't want Lance busting up here, wandering where Kurt was – Logan crossed his arms. "Fine. But make it quick."
Logan loomed over Kurt, ready to cut off any long-winded typing, but he didn't need to step in. Within a few seconds, Kurt sighed and held out his phone to Logan.
Just as he took the phone, it buzzed back with a response. Logan couldn't help but peek at the screen: Seriously?! Five weeks! Damn, that blows. Logan's a fucking asshole. But you're right. Totally worth it.
Raising an eyebrow at that, Logan turned to leave.
"Can I see what he wrote?"
"Nope. Consider it the start of your consequence."
Kurt flopped back on his bed in response.
Before shutting the door, Logan got in one last parting shot. "Doubt you'll think it was worth it in five weeks."
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My notes from forever ago on the lunchroom scene:
And Lance will come over to eat with them instead of the Brotherhood, say he took a stand and they're friends and they'll just have to deal.
And Kurt smiles brilliantly and Lance blushes, heart race, draws hearts in his notebook and in the center of the page L+K4evar! And he adds glitter pens to it. And starts writing his name as Lance Wagner. Haha Truly in character.