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The first time Kurt had laid eyes on Scott, the confident teen lounging on the loveseat, his full lips twisted in a cocky smirk, scathingly sardonic comments sliding easily out of his mouth, the blue boy knew he had to get closer to him, just to bask in his presence.
He looked so mysterious with his dark sunglasses, hiding away whatever the boy must be thinking. He looked untouchable, unassailable, unconquerable, everything Kurt had so ardently wished to be growing up, but knew he never could be.
The American teen had eagerly proposed that he and his three friends skip class to take Kurt to the mall, and Kurt had never felt so honored.
After it had been decided, Scott offered Kurt his hand, a breezy smile on his face, saying in his deep, velvety voice, "The name's Scott, as Jubes just told you, Scott Summers. Nice to meet you blue guy."
"Kurt Wagner," the blue guy had answered, a light violet blush dusting the apples of his cheeks. He bit his lip and tilted his head down, hiding his eyes behind his hair.
He was hesitant to take Scott's perfect hand, knowing how odd his own would feel to the other boy. Even so, he tenderly clasped Scott's hand in his own, and suppressed a gasp at how firm and strong Scott's grip was, how insistent and assured his handshake was, how warm he felt.
They shook, once, twice, three times, Scott's smile never leaving his lips. Then Kurt leaned forward and kissed Scott once on each corner of his mouth.
The perfect boy's perfect smile melted from his perfect face as if each kiss were instead a backhanded slap.
"What the hell?" Scott had gawked, wiping at his mouth. "Look, dude. I don't have a problem with gay people, but uh, I myself don't swing that way, just so you know." The American boy's lips twitched.
Kurt felt Scott's words like a punch to the gut. His tail immediately fell, even so far as to touch the floor. A thick sense of dread oozed into him, how was Scott so able to guess his burgeoning attraction to him? Kurt didn't understand. He was very careful not to be forward. What did he do wrong?
"Scott," Jean drawled, annoyed. "Europeans kiss each other when they meet, you'd know that if you ever bothered to learn anything in school."
Oh. Scott had just misinterpreted his friendly greeting.
Scott scoffed hotly. The unflappable teen leveled a ruby red glare at Kurt for a few seconds. Kurt felt so ashamed, the light dusting of violet darkened to a gash of plum, sprawling up to his ears. He tore his eyes away from those expressionless glasses.
"I- I'm sorry," he offered weakly. "I didn't know-"
"You didn't do anything wrong, Kurt," Jubilation grabbed his elbow gently. Kurt's tail picked itself up and began to sway slowly at her touch.
"Did he, Scott?" Jubilation said icily.
The cool teen shrugged. "I guess not. Accidents happen."
Kurt saw Jean narrow her eyes at Scott, while the brunet's mouth fixed itself in a thin straight line.
The two broke their staring contest, and Scott suddenly smirked at Kurt. "No hard feelings; after all, we haven't started your education yet," he said in a faux-excited voice, like he was talking to a child.
Kurt nodded intently, "I am so thrilled to be educated on your culture."
"Yeah," Scott in the midst of a single snicker, "just don't kiss me again, consider that lesson one, ok, bud?"
Scott then swiftly walked by him and pat him firmly on his back twice. Kurt's tail began to swish wildly before he could stop it. He wished he could melt into Scott's steady hand, but it left his back just as soon as it had touched it.
Scott strode a few paces, before turning around, walking backward and addressing the group with his hands shoved in his pockets.
"Oh, and lesson two, Kurt Wagner: you need better clothes. We dress with style here in America." There was that bright acerbic smirk again.
"I completely agree," Jubilation chirped, taking Kurt by the elbow once more, linking their arms. "I was thinking that red is totally your color,"
"I can see that," Jean said wryly, linking her arm with Kurt's free one, as the trio followed Scott to the garage.
"I hope you're a fan of Michael Jackson, Kurt, because I saw the perfect jacket at the mall last week." Jubilation continued.
Kurt licked his lips. He liked the feeling of his two new friends, their arms entwined with his, but he was still mightily confused about Scott Summers, this enigmatic bad boy who was very macho, he thought the term was. Apparently it was taboo for American boys to touch each other beyond a few brief seconds, and only in appropriate places. He would have to learn fast otherwise Scott Summers wouldn't want to be his friend.
And as upsetting as it was that Scott had touched him in such a cold, detached way, outright stating that he wanted no part in "swinging that way", Kurt knew his crush on the teen would only get stronger.
'Oh Kurt you Dummkopf.'
___
"Everyone grab a hold of Kurt!" Jean had shouted. Hank and Moira both rudely grabbed his tail, which Kurt supposed couldn't be helped. He gently placed his hand on the unconscious Professor's forearm, while Jean gripped his own.
Kurt noticed Scott hadn't grabbed some part of his body. He shot him a glance. Angel and Psylocke were closing in, time was of the essence.
Scott glanced at the approaching Horsemen, and then at Jean as she psychically tipped the plane, causing Angel to be flung into the carriage of the vehicle, while Psylocke was almost thrown off entirely.
Scott still hadn't touched him! Kurt was becoming frustrated with the way Scott hesitated to put his hands on Kurt or vice versa; his macho vendetta was not as important as teleporting quickly, with as many people as possible.
Even when he had urged Kurt to take them inside of Stryker's helicopter, Kurt had to actively clutch Scott's wrist, otherwise he would have been left behind. Scott was ridiculous!
Mentally sighing, Kurt shot out his hand and interwove his fingers with Scott's. The other teen's bemused expression was clear even with his thick sunglasses.
But there was no time to focus on the way the heat of Scott's body seeped through his fingers into Kurt's own, the way Kurt felt a coil in his stomach, knowing how intimate this looked, wishing he could hold Scott's hands just as friends, and not as allies fleeing for their lives.
Kurt screamed in agony as he carried six people with him through space and time. He was knocked out cold before he even knew where he had taken them.
"Scott was worried about you, you know," Jean explained to him in his head, after he woke up. They were in one of the few intact jet planes the Egyptian Army had generously offered to them, fully stocked with medical supplies.
Kurt himself had been strapped to a gurney, until Hank could verify his vitals. Jean held his arm gently with a naked palm while Hank muttered that he should lie still, not do anything to excite his heart, and let the fluids hydrate him.
Kurt honestly felt fine; a little sore maybe, but Mystique and the Professor were a lot worse for wear.
"Scott was worried about me?" Kurt asked through the telepathic link, when the furry blue scientist had given them a little privacy. Scott himself was currently sleeping with his head propped up against a box of gauze.
"Yeah," Jean explained. "He thought you died. He was really freaked out," she smirked.
Kurt's heart fluttered. The monitor beeped faster, prompting Hank to lumber back over and ask Kurt incredulously if he had heard a single one of his orders.
Kurt suppressed a giggle, thinking of Scott: big, tough Scott, letting a little of his guard down, for his sake. It made him feel so warm inside.
Yet Scott wasn't by his bedside, touching him so gently and wonderfully like Jean was.
He blushed, realizing Jean could read his thoughts, but the redhead was respectfully looking away from him, probably trying not to hear his very loud mind.
Kurt sighed in relief as the girl, the youngest Horseman, walked up to the pair. She could distract the psychic from Kurt's very obvious crush on Scott. The girl looked sheepish, but nevertheless had a steely resolve.
"I don't think I've met you," she stood over Kurt, speaking quietly, in a pleasing accent. "My name is Ororo."
"Kurt Wagner," the blue boy replied.
Jean knew the two were about to hit it off, so she went to go attend to the Professor, giving up her seat for Ororo.
"I love your hair," Ororo said shyly, sitting down on the crate of medical supplies. "Very cool, very punk rock," she shot him a self-conscious grin.
"I love yours too," Kurt smiled through a grimace. So maybe he was in more pain than he let on. "It is much more punk rock than mine, at least," he grinned.
"May I touch it?" Ororo's hand hovered a few inches above his head. Kurt's tail began to stir from underneath him. He could not nod his head fast enough.
The Egyptian girl slid her soft, cool hands into his thick hair, letting her nails lightly scritch his scalp as she pet him gently. Over and over, the motion relaxed him, lulling him toward sleep.
It felt so amazing, he couldn't help himself when he started to purr. Ororo gasped in surprised, then breathed out a delighted laugh.
"You are a splendid thing, Kurt Wagner," the teen said softly.
"Thank you," Kurt mumbled, suppressing a yawn. He didn't want to end up showing his fangs. She probably thought he was enough like a kitten already.
As Kurt drifted in and out of light sleep, purring for Ororo all the while, the plane began its descent toward special landing strip that Moira had arranged with the CIA upon takeoff.
"Alright kids, buckle up, we're leaving cruising altitude," Hank called softly. He secured Kurt's gurney down, and shooed Ororo away. Kurt almost whined when her hand left his scalp.
___
It was uncharacteristically cool for a June evening, but instead of taking advantage of the merciful breeze and breathing in the scent of wood smoke and freshly cut grass, Kurt and his friend were watching a movie in one of the rec rooms in the Professors' rebuilt home.
They were all glued to a small tv watching the VHS tape of Chariots of Fire, and if Kurt were being honest, only Scott was invested in the story.
The teen sat on one end of the couch, draping one arm around Jean's waist, and the other across Jubilation's shoulders. Both were snuggled into his sides, looking extremely bored, but still appreciating using Scott as a pillow.
Peter had been sitting in a reclining armchair, but he had left barely a quarter of the way through the movie, zipping out of the room, causing papers to fly everywhere.
Ororo was sitting on the other end of the couch, still working on her popcorn. Kurt had rested his head in her lap, while she absentmindedly pet his hair again. Occasionally, he would make a tiny whining sound and open his mouth, sticking his tongue out, and Ororo would drop a kernel into his waiting maw, without looking away from the screen.
Kurt was tall enough that his foot brushed against Jean's leg. The first time he had accidentally tapped her with his giant appendage, she had thought nothing of it. By now, she was gently rubbing circles onto his exposed ankle. It made Kurt shudder, but in a good way.
As much as Kurt preened at being pet by two of his friends at once, he sadly still wished it could be Scott every once in a while too.
The cool teen never touched him if he could help it. It was always the quickest pat on the back, or the occasional bumping of fists together, which Kurt still felt awkward doing. Never anything more.
And, what was most hurtful of all, is that Scott always seemed to use Jean and Jubilation as human shields, making sure Kurt could never sit next to him on occasions like these.
It was nice to be held by Ororo, but she often wanted him to return the favor, and it just didn't feel natural to hold someone else, to play with someone's hair and keep them safe and warm with his body. That was something he couldn't provide. Although by now he was used to Ororo settling between his legs, with his arms wrapped tightly around her torso, his chin on her head, purring softly. It was nice, but it was hardly the feeling of being enveloped and cared for that he craved.
Only Scott could provide that, Kurt was sure of that.
By the time the movie finally ended, Kurt had fallen asleep, and had only just barely woken up, on the edge of awareness. He could hear Scott, Jean, and Ororo whispering quietly as the soft music of the credits played in the background.
"Jubilation and Kurt are asleep," he more felt than heard Ororo's voice.
"Yeah, we should hit the hay," Scott said with a yawn, audibly stretching. "I'll take Jubilation upstairs to her room."
"Are you sure," Jean asked.
"Yeah, no big deal, she's tiny," Scott snickered. Kurt felt like a vice was gripping his insides. He hoped Ororo couldn't feel him stiffen. Was Scott going to carry him too?
The two girls remained with Kurt on the couch, too dead tired to process why they were waiting, but grateful for soft cushions to rest against. It only took a minute or two for Scott to return. Ororo had gently moved Kurt's head and slid out from underneath him.
Kurt held his breath, hoping Jean wasn't reading his mind. All she had to do was focus how loud his brain activity undoubtedly was and she would know he was faking his slumber.
Kurt's heart shattered into a million pieces when Scott shook him by the shoulder, rather roughly, instead of scooping him up into his arms. Kurt realized he was not as small as Jubilation, but he was still small enough to carry, he should think!
"Yo, Kurt. We're all going to bed."
Kurt mewled weakly, barely stirring. His tail betrayed him though, wriggling out from under him and beginning to sway widely next to the couch.
Scott then opened his eyelids and waved his hand in his face. Kurt growled (though it sounded more like a cat whining) and rolled over on his side.
"Suit yourself then," Scott huffed, after shaking him futilely again. "Night, Kurt," Scott yawned. "Night, Kurt," the two girls chorused.
Kurt couldn't believe it. But it was true, the tv was turned off, the light in the hallway was turned off, and Kurt was left alone in the dark, on a couch, without any pillows or blankets. He let out a self pitying whine.
The blue boy waited a few minutes before angrily bamfing back to his room, throwing himself under his covers, wanting to scream. He threw one of his pillows against the wall, but then he felt bad, so he gingerly retrieved it from across the room.
"Ach, Kurt, what is wrong with you?" he asked himself in a croaky voice.
___
The day was swelteringly hot and humid. Thankfully the Danger Room was sheltered from the sun underneath the Mansion.
Mystique was training them in hand to hand combat: boxing and Jiu Jitsu. Kurt had seen boxing matches before but he had no idea what the other sport was.
Just Kurt's luck, Scott was picked as his sparring partner. Hank handed them equipment that should have been about their sizes, and ushered them off to a mat rolled out on the floor, next to the wall. Kurt spied Ororo and Jean having a pretty intense grappling match in the middle of the room, neither managing to get the upper hand on the other.
Mystique strolled over, standing tall and stern, ready to coach them.
"No offense, Mystique," Scott said in his usual flippant tone, "but shouldn't you pair me with someone closer to my size, like Bobby?"
"Kurt needs to learn how to defend himself from larger opponents, so put just put on your gloves, Scott," Mystique clearly struggled to keep the groan from escaping her mouth.
"Don't worry Kurt, I'll go easy on you," Scott smirked, fastening the ruby quartz goggles around his head. Kurt cursed him for how that damn smirk still made his insides turn to jelly.
"What makes you think you'll need to," Kurt asked, unable to keep the annoyance from his voice.
Scott just snickered, "Like I said, I'll go easy on you." Kurt grimaced. He felt the same ugly rage fill him as that anger in Berlin, when he had finally given and fought. Kurt never wanted to hurt anyone, especially not Scott. However, he was getting annoyed with Scott's cocky attitude. The more he hung around Drake and Rasputin, the more like a stereotypical American jock he acted. Maybe a few good punches would teach him a lesson.
"Fight," Mystique called, stepping out the way. Kurt put his gloves up, stepping lightly, circling around the bulkier teen. Scott had his gloves up, ready to jab.
Kurt was limber, and agile, but Scott still got a few jabs in.
"Watch your footwork, Kurt," Mystique yelled. "If an enemy is right on top of you, you can't guarantee he won't grab you before you teleport. Come on let's go, pick up the pace!"
Scott continued to lightly tap at Kurt's body with a shit eating grin on his face.
"Stop it!" Kurt snarled, but that only made Scott joyously giggle as he continued to annoy Kurt.
"What, I'm going easy on you, like I said I would," Scott snickered, landing another delicate punch on Kurt's ribs.
"I said stop!" Kurt yelled.
"Make me," Scott smirked. Kurt growled low in his throat. Scott's eyebrows rose with how un-kitten like this particular growl was.
Kurt charged, hissing venomously, bouncing out of the way of Scott's hook, hitting his guard several times. Scott's glove came up from below and hit him square in the stomach. It knocked the wind out of him, but still he ducked Scott's next hook and shot behind him, his tail snaking up and coiling itself around Scott's throat.
Kurt dove and rolled, swinging Scott around, eventually tossing him into the wall. The brunet slammed his back into the metal and then fell to the floor in a slump, dazed, but coughing for air. Scott moaned weakly as Kurt put his foot on Scott's chest and held him down.
"You asshole," Scott groaned, shoving Kurt's leg off of him, putting his hand to his throat, rubbing it tenderly. "What's your deal?"
"You told me to make you stop, so I did," Kurt said darkly. "Should I have gone easier on you?" he allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch up into his own angry smirk.
"Alright, that's enough!" Mystique shouted, stalking toward them. She didn't reach them in time to stop Scott from jumping to his feet with a very human snarl, hitting Kurt square in the face.
The blue teen staggered backward, gasping as blood filled his nose and mouth, his head spinning thickly.
"Scott!" Mystique's voice cut through the air, causing every other sparring duo to stop and stare at the commotion. The teen paused, another punch aimed at Kurt's head hanging in midair.
Kurt was at least satisfied to see Scott look sheepish and remorseful, even if his eyes were as inscrutable as ever.
"Y- you saw! He cheated! He used his tail-"
"Kurt's tail is one of his natural advantages," Mystique cut in viciously. "I would use it in exactly the same way in a fight if my opponent was too stupid to take me seriously. Go hit the showers, you're done for today."
Scott grumbled to himself, trotting out of the danger room, his whole face blushing scarlet.
"So like his brother," Kurt heard Mystique mutter to herself a little somberly.
Hank had come over to inspect Kurt. "Well, your nose isn't broken," the tall man sighed, clearly peeved with the antics of teenage boys. Kurt noticed every pair of eyes on him. He wilted under the collective gaze.
"And you," Kurt stiffened under Mystique's deadly gaze. "Don't think you're not in trouble too. You want to explain to me how any of that was in good sportsmanship?" She didn't let him answer. "Go with Hank to the infirmary," she nodded at the door gruffly, before turning around and clapping her hands. "Did I say any of you kids were done? Back to it!"
Kurt was somewhat proud of himself that he managed to keep his humiliated tears from spilling over his eyes.
___
Scott and Kurt didn't take long to make truce- Xavier had forced them to. And now they were in the rec room again, planning to watch another movie once it was dark out. As a token of forgiveness, Kurt had said Scott could pick his favorite movie.
So of course Scott chose Terminator.
The blue boy was still upset over what had transpired in the Danger Room. He was still upset that the only time Scott had actually touched him in weeks was to mock him, and to viciously slug him for beating him in a fight. A fight that he won unfairly, granted, but still.
That constant rejection, that hurt more than any punch to the face. And now Kurt knew that he would never have the chance he wanted. It wasn't just about his silly crush anymore, he just wanted to know that Scott liked him. He needed that validation, and Scott had withheld it from day one.
He looked over to the big bad boy himself. Scott was teaching Jean how to play pool. The shorter teen was standing behind her, his body draped against hers, leaving no space in between them. His hands covered hers, guiding her how to hold the cue and the motions she'd have to do to shoot. He was occasionally muttering next to her ear and the two of them would giggle.
Kurt huffed, crossing his arms. He considered joining Jubilation and Ororo, who were playing darts. He decided on just sulking on the couch alone.
"Hey Kurt," Scott called, "Don't you want to play pool?" The blue boy couldn't help his tail beginning to thrash excitedly at Scott's acknowledgment, his stubborn grudge melting away like snow.
He bamfed over to the pool table, grabbing a cue with his tail. Jean winked at him when Scott wasn't looking. He shot her a grateful look. "I… don't know how to play," he admitted, turning to Scott.
Scott let a wry smirk come to his face. "I'll teach you, it's easy."
Kurt nodded tersely. He knew by now not to expect to be so fully touched the way Jean had been. Even though imagining Scott's warm body pressed against his was… quite the thing to envision.
And sure enough, Scott stood nowhere near him when he explained and demonstrated how the game worked. Kurt tried to pay attention, if not for the way Scott's bicep peaked out of his shirt sleeve when he demonstrated how to shoot. Kurt mentally slapped his forehead.
'Ach, Kurt, why do you like him, he's never going to treat you as more than an acquaintance. He obviously feels uncomfortable around you… it's probably the way you look. Ja, you are a demon, after all. The scars too must disgust him. Why are you so stupid' Kurt thought to himself.
'Kurt?' Jean's voice blared through his head. 'I- I had no idea you felt that way… I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't be in your head-' her voice retreated from his mind.
Kurt had screamed inside, and accidentally ripped the green of the pool table while practicing a shot.
"Well, thanks, Kurt. That's just great," Scott scoffed, leaning against the table with a scowl on his face. "Now how are we going to play poo-"
"Leave me alone!" Kurt interrupted. "You are always so above it all, always smirking. Why is everything I do so inadequate to you? Why are you so mean?"
Before Scott could answer, Kurt bamfed to the other side of the room (though he was tempted to just bamf to his own room and scream into his pillow forever), where Ororo and Jubilation were doing their best not to eavesdrop. The Egyptian girl ran her hand through his hair, and murmured words of comfort in his ear. She was the only one who knew about his feelings for Scott.
While Jean was busy consoling Scott, Ororo had distracted Kurt by teaching him to play darts, standing behind him, her hands on his, just like Scott had done for Jean. Kurt melted into her touch, and Kurt wondered why he even wanted Scott's affection, when he was given so much from his girl friends. He was clearly never going to get it from Scott.
A few weeks prior, he had considered just asking Ororo if she wanted to date, even thought he was not interested in women, but before he could summon the courage, she had blurted out that she had a secret to tell him. She told him she liked girls right there on her bed, a botany journal sprawled between them. Kurt had laughed until he cried, which caused her eyebrows to shoot up, cautiously offended. He quickly explained to her that he liked boys. Then she had laughed until she cried.
"Let's just watch the movie," Scott announced softly. He sat down in the middle of the couch, and looked at Kurt, patting the seat next to him, with a shy smile, his face apologetic. Kurt's stomach twisted in a knot. If he hurled all over Scott… death would be kinder.
He delicately seated himself next to the brunet, holding his tail in his lap tightly to keep it from squirming. Jean must have convinced him to do let Kurt sit next to him, the blue boy figured.
Kurt couldn't focus on the movie, feeling Scott's heat next to him, hearing his breathing, seeing him relaxed, with a smile on his face at his favorite parts- not a smirk, but a real, genuine smile.
Terminator scared Kurt, so he was grateful that he was starting to nod off halfway through the movie. He felt his head lolling and woke up a few minutes later, realizing groggily that he had slumped onto Scott's shoulder.
His heart sang in joy (and his tail began to undulate lazily). His breath hitched in horror. Scott noticed.
"Hey," he said easily. "Are you really bored by Terminator? It's one of the greatest action movies ever." The brunet shook his head with a soft smile and shoved more popcorn into his mouth.
Scott… was letting Kurt sleep on his shoulder? It was too good to be true. Indeed, the blue boy's dreams were shattered a few seconds later when Scott whispered, "So, can you like, move, please?"
Kurt obliged with a pout. It didn't stop him from falling asleep on Scott's shoulder a second time.
He was on the verge of consciousness when he felt Scott's deep voice rumbling through him, heard him softly say.
"This is the second time in a half hour, is he doing this on purpose?"
Kurt's heart panged.
"Oh, let him sleep, it's cute," Jubilation cooed. He heard Ororo click her tongue in approval. Jean didn't say anything.
"Jean…" Scott's low voice rolled through Kurt's body again, scolding the red headed psychic. Kurt wondered what was going on.
Kurt opened his eyes blearily and made to push himself off of Scott, like he was doing it coincidentally. He felt a cold trickle of fear working its way up his veins. When he rubbed his eyes he saw Scott staring at him with an angry sneer.
"You were awake the whole time weren't you?" Scott accused.
"Was? Nein, was ist ge-"
"Jean told me," Scott said simply. He pointed to his temple. "She told me about all of it."
Kurt's eyes widened in horror, all vestiges of sleep burned away from him in his blind terror. His eyes darted around the room, looking to Ororo, and Jubilee, sympathetic, to Jean, apologetic, to Scott, shocked and angry and probably disgusted, and-
Kurt bamfed out of the room before another word could be said. He hadn't cried as hard as he did that night in years.
___
Jean had spent days trying to apologize, but Kurt didn't want to see her. He didn't want to see anyone.
His secret, his pathetic, gross, creepy secret had been revealed. Scott hated his guts, and now there was no going back.
Kurt was sick of crying. So he decided to go on a jog, for no real reason than it would give him an excuse to leave the house.
He tiptoed past every door, not wanting anyone to proclaim that Kurt Wagner had risen from the dead, and be swarmed by insistent questions over his sudden 'illness'.
The blue boy paused when he very clearly heard small sobs coming from a less frequently used study. The door was closed, but Kurt's sharp hearing picked up on the weeping.
Against his better judgment, he bamfed inside. The room was dark, barely lit through the rotting stale smelling and faded curtains. The study was extremely dusty, and only contained three dilapidated armchairs, and a few bookshelves that barely had 100 books between them all. And sitting in the dustiest, most dilapidated armchair, wiping at his eyes furiously, was Scott.
He was holding a picture of his brother.
"Scott?" he called gently. The other teen jumped at the sound of Kurt's voice. Kurt braced himself for accusations of 'what are you doing here?' and 'I don't like you so leave me alone', but Scott just swallowed a sob down.
"Kurt…" he said wistfully. "We've all missed you."
The blue boy's heart ached in his chest.
"I… miss him too, Alex, I miss him more than anything. I can't bear it sometimes. I try to come here to be alone when it gets to be too much," Scott explained, an ironic laugh escaping his lips, along with several more tears. "Guess I've been found out."
"I'm sorry," was all Kurt could think to say. He wrung his hands guiltily. Had he caused Scott to think of his dead brother?
"No, I'm sorry. I've treated you like shit. Don't tell me I didn't 'cause I did." Scott said sternly.
"But," Kurt breathed, "I-"
"I was rude from day one. After finding out you liked me, oh God, I've been such a prick. I- I just wish you would have told me. I- I don't mind, it's actually really flattering," Scott's cheeks flushed scarlet.
"You, you always seem to avoid me, like the thought of being near me disgusts you, why- why would I trust you with that secret?" Kurt hissed, hot tears of his own pricking his eyes, his hands curling into fists futilely.
Scott practically whimpered, "Like I said, I treated you like shit." He admitted, wiping at his eyes behind his glasses again. "It's not your fault. None of it is your fault."
Kurt sat down in the armchair across from Scott. "If you didn't feel comfortable touching me, for some reason, any reason, I would want to know… that's-" he choked down a sob, "that's all I want to know, I just want to know what's wrong with me," he said thickly.
Scott's mouth gaped. "Nothing! Absolutely nothing is wrong with you," he whined, his shoulders shaking. The resident bad boy of the Xavier Institute had to bite his hand to keep from sobbing.
Kurt scoffed, turning his head away. "It's hard to believe that," he wiped at his eyes furiously.
Scott just shrugged sadly, more wet tracts falling down his cheeks. "I know- I'm an idiot. I've been a douchey idiot. And I know that's not an excuse, not really," his voice shook. "But I'm so sorry Kurt. I know there's nothing I can do to take it back now, but I wish there was. Seeing you like this, knowing everything now… I- my heart hurts, Kurt."
Kurt looked at Scott through blurry lashes, "You're not an idiot. You're stubborn, and cocky, and oftentimes inconsiderate, but you're not stupid. Don't call yourself stupid," he pleaded.
Scott scoffed wetly. "I guess you wouldn't know, would you? But Jean does. This whole thing," he gestured at himself. "I'm a fraud. I'm not cool. I wasn't popular at my old school- the opposite actually. I'm just a sad, scared, lonely kid who wants everyone to think I'm too good for them."
"But you," Scott breathed, "you have this way of, like, innocently breaking through people's defenses. It intimidated me, honestly. No I'm not kidding. That you immediately saw me and wanted to be close to me. I didn't know what to think, I was scared you saw through me, because I'm not the badass I wish I was."
"Y-you don't find me, revolting to touch? You don't find me unbearable to be around? But, you seemed so upset the other night," Kurt sniffled.
"God no," Scott breathed. "When I met you, I was just doing what I do: hiding behind what I wanted people to think. Kurt I was trying to impress you."
Kurt hiccoughed a giggle, his tail starting to sway. "R-really?"
Scott nodded intently. "I thought you were super cool, but Jean told me to be careful with you, that you wouldn't understand everything. And I didn't listen."
Scott inhaled sharply, and let out a long stream of air. "And… and you make me feel weird, Kurt, not in a grossed out way!" the brunet added frantically, noticing Kurt's face, "but just- confused. I didn't want to get too close. When I found out the other night, I wasn't mad, I was just… shocked, and confused."
"I understand," Kurt said sadly. "You don't have to touch boys, I know you're not gay."
"Kurt…" Scott whispered. "I'm trying to tell you that I think I am. At least for you." He breathed out a hefty sigh. "I've been avoiding it, but- that's the reason. There I said it. I didn't like touching you, because it felt like I was on fire. Bobby, the others? They don't have that effect on me. I didn't know what to think, so I pushed you away. It was safer that way, but only for me. I should have realized what it looked like to you. I'm so sorry."
The blue boy's eyes softened, his tone gentle and reverent. "Thank you for being honest with me. I- should have been honest too. You were so intimidating though," Scott snorted at that, "and I did nothing but sit back and whine and be jealous."
"Well… can we start? Being honest, I mean?" Scott asked with a small voice.
Kurt nodded. "I- I would like that."
Scott wiped at a few stray tears lingering on his face. "Come here," he said quickly. Kurt was confused, but obeyed. He stood up, and gasped when Scott pulled him into a bone crushing hug. The brunet was just as solid and warm and enveloping as Kurt had fantasized.
Scott's hands rubbed up and down Kurt's back, his head buried into Kurt's neck, breaths still shaking from his earlier sobs. Kurt leaned his head down onto Scott's, drawing his arms around Scott's back, resting them against his shoulder blades. Kurt wrapped his tail around the both of them.
"Wow," Scott mumbled, the vibration of his voice going all throughout Kurt, "you're really good at hugging. This is really nice."
"Ja," Kurt said, not entirely without some sass. "You would have known sooner if you weren't so busy about being a macho manly American man."
Scott giggled into his shoulder, "I'm such an ass," he sighed.
"You are not a donkey, mein freund," Kurt supplied helpfully.
Scott just laughed harder.
Scott pulled back slightly, his hands leaving Kurt's back to cup Kurt's face. He leaned in close, pecking Kurt on each corner of the mouth. Kurt chuckled, his tail wriggling around both of them.
"I think I owe you that," Scott smirked, but it was kind and warm, like Kurt was in on the joke, not the butt of it. His heart raced.
"Can you forgive me, though?" Scott asked softly.
Kurt lowered his gaze. "I think so. I think, it will take a while, to feel not so much pain anymore. But I can start. Because Scott Summers is a cool dude," he beamed.
Scott nodded, and never a more genuine smile had crossed his lips. Kurt wished he could see into his eyes, see if Scott was staring just as intently at him as he was at Scott.
"I'll make it up to you," the other teen promised. "Maybe not all at once, but now that we've, you know, cleared the air-" he leaned his mouth toward Kurt's neck.
"Can I?"
Kurt nodded enthusiastically. Scott began pressing light kisses on Kurt's neck, pulling down his shirt to get at his collarbones, zipping up to tickle his jaw, his ears, his nose, and finally, his mouth.
"-I'll touch you whenever you feel lonely. I'll run my fingers through your hair. I'll… be close to you whenever you need it. I'll hold you when you're sad. I'll do everything. Whatever you need, just ask, okay? I have a lot of missed time to make up for."
"Scott, you're going to make me cry," Kurt whined, as if they both hadn't already been crying.
Suddenly his stomach growled.
"When was the last time you ate?" Scott asked, still giddy from getting to kiss all over the blue boy.
"I'm not sure," Kurt admitted. He had barely left his bed in the last few days.
"Do you want to get something to eat?" Scott asked breathily, that lovely shade of pink seeping into his cheeks.
"You mean, like an American date?" Kurt whispered in awe. After all this, Scott was asking him out? He think he liked this version of Scott Summers much more.
"Yeah," Scott laughed, "An American date."