Chapter Text
“Wait, are you gays?” The other teen says, voice dropping low like he’s telling them his social security number as he hits the word ‘gay.’
“Oh ja, we’re doing that thing all the gays do, where you meet up in parks to fuck at night. What’s the American word, riding? No, cruising? Cruising, yes.” Kurt says, rolling on to his side to leer at the boy where he’s lying on the dilapidated gazebo floor.
Todd scrambles to regain his balance on the gazebo railing, brain reeling as he tries to fit together the uptight fussy Nightcrawler who snarls at him in history class with the underage drinking, sprawled out furball cracking wise about gay park sex to some kid Todd’s pretty sure runs on Bayville’s track team.
The guy was probably hunting for a place to smoke a joint and not get caught, but he’d interrupted Todd and the furball’s hissing match and proceeded to act like the duo were two minutes away from summoning Lucifer himself to moon all of Bayville.
The lanky teen turns startled eyes towards Todd, and the amphibious mutant isn’t about to let fuzznuts one up him in the scandal department. He leans forward and leers, running his tongue along his lips in a way that highlights it’s definitely not average length.
“Why, legs? Looking for a good time tonight?” Todd asks.
The guy actually stumbles off the gazebo steps as if they’ve sicced a swarm of hornets on him, arms flying up as he yelps out a fervent no.
“Then find somewhere else to smoke.” Kurt says.
The guy gives them the finger and scampers away.
“Don’t get too close to any of the bushes there, sugar lips. You might find more than you bargained for.” Todd hollers after him and Kurt lets out a braying laugh from the gazebo floor.
“Where do you get your terms of endearment? Radio shows from the 50’s?” He asks, running his hands over his eyes.
“Excuse me, fuzznuts, but going around calling everyone ‘darling’ isn’t better just cause you’re doing it in German.” Todd says.
Kurt rolls his eyes at the amphibious mutant, or seems to the way the glow flickers in the blue shadows of his face. He chucks a beer can at Todd, who catches it on reflex. He jerks when he realizes it’s full and unopened.
Todd glances at the blue mutant, who shrugs.
“Rental fee, since I’m occupying your gazebo, apparently.” He says, referring to their interrupted argument as he rolls to face Todd.
Todd sprawls out on the wide beam of the gazebo railing, holding his arms away as he cracks the beer open, letting the froth spill out over the already grimy before leaning over to suck away the bubbling bits. The flavor is rich and bitter, more like coffee than the watery sour taste he’s used to. He hums a bit, taking a deeper swig as soon as the fizzling stops.
“Payment received, dawg.” He says.
Kurt raises his can in acknowledgement, then snorts to himself.
“Two guys alone together, of course they must be fröhlich.” he mutters.
“What’d you say dawg?” Todd asks a giggle slipping past his lips.
Kurt raises an eyebrow at him and starts to repeat his sentence but Todd waves him off.
“Nah, that froolee word.” Todd says.
Kurt laughs, “Fröhlich, it’s gay in German.”
“Oh man, that’s fucking great. ‘The Fröhlich’s frolic in the park at night.’” Todd says, cackling.
“The fröhlich are fröhlich frolicking without fraulein.” Kurt singsongs, grinning when Todd laughs harder.
“Well, are you a frolicking fröhlich?” Todd asks, huffing as he catches his breath.
Kurt pauses. Todd feels the glow of those gold eyes roam over his face, searching him out like he’s an index to an encyclopedia of who knows what, probably dick jokes. Whatever the blue mutant finds there, his shoulders drop down from his ears just a little. He gives a crooked smirk.
“Nein, fraulein are too pretty for me to pass up opportunities to frolic with them. I am bisexuell.” He says.
Todd hoots, “You fuck bees well, man? You do wild shit in those Alps.”
Kurt chucks a balled up chip bag at the amphibious mutant, but it’s too light to cross the distance and the wind buffets it away halfway between them. Todd cracks up when Kurt face twists into an expression of impotent fury like an eight year old watching a plush toy slip from the crane machine game’s grasp for the tenth time.
“Europeans are not so kinky as you Americans make us out to be.” Kurt says, “It’s not our fault you all faint if there’s a tit on television.”
Todd laughs even harder, tipping off the banister. He catches himself in a crouch on the gazebo floor, leaning back against one of the pillars holding up the half gone roof.
“Relax, fuzz. I fuck bees as well, I don’t have the house to throw stones in.” He says, catching his breath.
Kurt looks up at him over the rim of his beer, something shy peeking out from the guarded smirk he has going.
“Ja?” He asks.
“Yah, I can’t pass up a pretty face.” Todd says, then leers, “Or a pretty ass.”
Kurt doesn’t sneer like the amphibious mutant expects him too, humming in agreement instead.
“Prost to that.” he says, tipping his beer to Todd before drinking.
Todd takes a swing of his own and they lapse into quiet. Kurt slumps again on the gazebo floor, his head tipping back to watch the stars through the holes in the awning. Todd let’s his eyes and thoughts drift out over the darkened park, sensitive vision picking out the little flickers of motion of night creatures making their way through the tall grass, flitting through the trees and brush. His eyes flicker to the scuffs the interloping teen left in the gravel path by the gazebo and he snorts. Kurt gives him a curious look, raising one eyebrow.
“Are you gays?” Todd hisses in a stage whisper, feeling a thrill as the blue mutant breaks into giggles.
“Only gays sit in gay-zebos.” Kurt whispers back, as if recounting that he did in fact see Goody Proctor fucking the devil, or whatever that fucking book in Mrs. Green’s class said.
Todd howls, “Come frolic with me in the gayzebo, you lovely fröhlich.”
Kurt slaps a hand out towards Todd, a grin splitting his face, “Bee sexual with me in the park under the moonlight. Only men may know love in the gayzebo.”
Todd snickers, curling into himself like an armadillo.
“Wait wait, Todd, do you know where the women fuck in the park?” Kurt asks, his eyes shining brighter somehow.
“Nah, nah, tell me.” Todd says, leaning forward.
“The lesbisch lie in les bushes over there!” Kurt crows, shoulders rocking forward as he laughs through the end of the sentence.
They pause and lock eyes. The absurdity of this night, of hopping out to the derelict gazebo he’d claimed as his Toad Hole in the park only to find the furball here, of a second person somehow stumbling on his hiding spot and accusing the pair of having a tryst, of how each pun manages to be worse than the last, overtakes him. Todd breaks the impromptu staring contest first, laughter stuttering from his lips in a wave. Kurt cracks right after him.
They taper off, and Todd goes to take another sip from his beer only to find it empty. He huffs in disappointment, but a soft metallic thump next to his shoulder catches his attention. He glances up to see Kurt’s placed a second can down next to him. Todd raises an eyebrow but Kurt waves him off without a word.
“Post.” Todd says, tipping the can to the blue mutant before cracking it and taking a sip.
Kurt snorts, “Prost.” he says, taking a drink himself.
They go on like that, shooting the shit as the stars drift slowly by overhead, or they drift slowly beneath the stars. Kurt turns out to be funny when he isn’t snarling in Todd’s face or hiding under a hologram. Todd absently notes the teen hasn’t worn it all night and wonders at the utter lack of self consciousness the blue mutant’s shown, even with their earlier interruption. Kurt must find Todd funny too, his laughter too loud and rough to be polite, the occasional slaps to Todd’s leg or arm too surprising. Todd blames the two and a half beers he’s downed on an empty stomach and the bubbliness of the air between them for what falls out of his mouth next.
“Want to pretend to frolic as bee sexuals with me?” Todd asks.
Kurt doesn’t port away the second the question leaves Todd’s mouth. He stills, swerving in that liquid way he’s been moving the last hour, like he doesn’t have bones, just endless joints he twists around and around.
“Are you asking me out?” He asks, sounding like Todd’s challenged him to a spelling bee in the middle of math class, not like Todd’s just insulted his entire lineage, which is a plus.
“Nah, I’m asking you to consider the pranking possibility.” Todd says. “The heteros will be upseteros and maybe people will stop acting like I’m Captain fucking America.”
Kurt snorts, looking at Todd with laughing eyes through dark lashes, “You stopped a van from smashing into a crowded playground. With like, one kick.”
Todd groans, throwing himself on the gazebo floor.
“I want fucking mutant power, not dead kids, yo. What, was I meant to let the sentinel fucking splatter a park full of first graders?” Todd says.
Kurt watches him, something warm and knowing curling on the edge of his lips that makes Todd want to punch him and run away hissing. He squashes the part that yearns to lean closer.
“Do you want to be my fake boyfriend or not, motherfucker?” Todd asks.
Kurt hums, head lolling back as he consults the stars.
“If we dated, the others would stop giving Lance and Kitty so much shit.” Kurt says, “And maybe Tabby and Amara, too. They wouldn’t be the only ones.”
Todd nods, thinking about the tight line Lance’s shoulders bunch into whenever he has to talk with the X-Geeks, how he holds himself back from flinching under their eyes. He hadn’t considered the blue mutant might care, but he was close with the Kit Kat.
“Who gives Tabby and Amara shit? Someone looking to die young?” Todd asks.
Kurt snorts, “No one says anything out loud, but it’s a thing you feel when they kiss each other hello, you know?”
Todd flashes back to Brooklyn streets, to holding hands in the pocket of oversized hoodies, walking close so no one catches them, to kissing fast and light behind open locker doors, praying no one slams it shut before they pull away.
“Yeah, I know.” Todd says.
“When did we start dating?” Kurt asks, as if he’s interviewing Todd for a gossip magazine.
Todd hums, “Shit, I dunno, a month ago? Two months? We went to fight behind the bleachers but ended up sucking face instead.”
Kurt nods, “Say a month and a half ago, puts us at the beginning of the semester.”
Todd grunts an affirmative. That’s enough time that it won’t feel like they’re jumping the gun telling other people.
“Do we kiss in public?” Todd asks, turning to look at Kurt.
The blue mutant pulls a face like Todd’s asked if ducks can swim.
“I’ve been dating you for nearly two months, but refuse to kiss you in front of anyone? Am I a monk or just a douchebag?” Kurt asks, “Either way, dump me, I’m not worth your time.”
He points his tail at Todd, “I’m holding your hand too, I don’t care if it’s awkward because we both have weird fingers.”
Todd laughs, “Shit, dawg, you gonna bring me fucking flowers too?”
Kurt smirks at him, “Maybe, what kind do you like?”
“Uh-uh, I answer that and you’ll fill my locker with them or some shit. No, live with mystery.” Todd says.
“I like daisies. Those big bright ones.” Kurt says.
“Who the fuck likes daisies, dawg? That’s the most generic thing.” Todd says.
Kurt scrunches back, hand to his chest, “They’re happy and cute. Why do you hate fun?”
“I have tastes and preferences that go beyond the Hallmark aisle of the Duane Reade.” Todd says.
“So I won’t give you daisies, fine.” Kurt says. “Quick run, we should share preferences.”
“Morning person or evening?” Kurt asks.
“Are we or are we not in the park drinking at like 9 pm on Thursday?” Todd says. “How the fuck are you out here without stabby hands or Major Lazer dragging your ass back in time for beddy bye, by the way?”
Kurt gives him what Todd guesses is his version of the finger, “I have ways.”
Todd moves on, “Favorite movies?”
“Pirates and comedies” Kurt says.
“Indie slashers and comedy.” Todd answers.
“Foods?” Kurt asks.
“Anything I can get.” Todd says, then adds, “But bell pepper and onion pizza, rare burgers, burned fries, and drunken noodles are the shit. Breakfast before 10 makes me puke if it’s anything more than coke and a biscuit.”
Kurt nods, eyes looking up like he’s actually documenting all this. “Chicken Tikka Masala, rabbit stew, a lot of things not found here, cheeseburger also rare, half soggy fries, pineapple and bacon pizza.”
“Shit you hate?” Todd asks.
“Sticky things because they take forever to wash out of my fur, the awful buzzing of the school’s fluorescent lights, when people use that nice voice that means they actually hate you, radishes.” Kurt rattles off.
“Public bathroom soap because that shit burns like fire, whatever cleaners they use in the school because my eyes water every Tuesday morning, when people act like they’ve never touched dirt in their life, pineapple.” Todd says.
“Are you allergic to the cleaning chemicals?” Kurt asks, stumbling a bit like he isn’t sure the words are right.
“No shit dawg, I wasn’t skipping baths just for the free love hippie funk.” Todd says.
“Ah,” Kurt says, “Sorry for being an arschloch about it when we met.”
“Eh, I said your weird clouds smell like farts, you pointed out my BO. We’ve kicked each other a million times in the ribs since then. Pick something else to give me the sad eyes over.” Todd says.
Kurt huffs a laugh, but shrugs then nods. Todd takes it as a win. They taper off for a minute, the screams of cicadas breaking in over their silence.
“Wait, are we one on one?” Kurt asks.
“Like, exclusive?” Todd asks and Kurt nods, making a face like he’s holding a gift and dreading it might be the world’s ugliest cardigan two sizes too small.
Todd sucks his teeth, “I mean I don’t really go in for that, dawg, but if you want to play this ‘one true love’ style I’ll try it.”
Kurt sighs, flopping back with relief, “Absolutely not. I would like to keep making out with Tabby sometimes, thank you, and also not have it make me the arschloch who cheats on his boyfriend.”
“You suck face with Tabby?” Todd asks, feeling thoughts he shoves down into the basement of his brain begin to stir.
The blue mutant grins and nods. Todd jerks a thumb towards his chest.
“Me too.” He says, and Kurt’s grin splits into a sharp smile. He wiggles his eyebrows and Todd’s stomach flips.
“Jawohl, I know little frosch.” He says. “I asked Tabby who she was seeing, and she said you don’t care if she names names.”
Todd shrugs, because no he really doesn’t care, but he is curious. He leans forward opening his mouth, but Kurt cuts him off.
“Does she still come knocking on your door sometimes?” He asks.
Todd nods.
“Then there’s your answer about your skills and her interest, mein freund.” Kurt says.
“Okay yeah you got me.” Todd says, then moves to stand. “Can we pick up this ‘fake boyfriend’ getting to know each other speedrun later? It’s late enough I need to get back or Lance will chew my ass out.”
Kurt grimaces, “I’ve definitely made sneaking back harder, staying out this long.”
He gathers their empty cans into the plastic bag he’d pulled them from, and Todd helps, passing bits of trash along as well. Kurt gives him a small smile before tying the bundle up and launching it into a trashcan about six feet out. It lands with a satisfying thunk and Todd nods, impressed. He turns to crack wise about the blue mutant’s aim, but stops short when there’s a three fingered hand in front of his chest, palm up.
“Want to take the express route home?” Kurt asks.
Todd laughs, taking that warm blue hand in his, “Oh, I could get used to these perks.”
Kurt winks, then gives him a quick “hang on” and they’re gone in a flash of heat and light and roaring sound.
They appear in the Brotherhood entryway and Todd blinks, surprised to be inside the building. Kurt shrugs beside him.
“Fought Pietro in the doorway once, got us inside.” He says.
“Kurt?” Kitty’s voice asks from the living room at the same time Todd hears Lance go “The fuck, T?”
The couple are peering at them from over the back of the couch. Lance is going for his stern ‘I’m the leader, where have you been young man, who is this hussy’ look, but it’s ruined by the smears of shimmery pink gloss all on his lips and chin. Kitty kneels up on the couch cushions, her arms tossed over the back as she stares at Kurt like he wandered in with his clothes on backwards. Todd swallows a giggle. Kurt glances at him, eyes sly and the giggle escapes.
“Hallo, liebling.” Kurt says, as if he appears in the Brotherhood home all the time, “I’m just dropping off the frosch. You want a ride back to the mansion? I’m heading there now.”
Kitty shakes her head, Todd notices her ponytail has fallen halfway down, crookedly framing the side of her face.
“Uhm, no, I’m good, Lance will give me a ride soon. Lie and say I’m on my way home if anyone catches you?” She asks.
Kurt shrugs and nods, “No problem.”
He then turns to Todd and his smile shifts to something out of one of those soapy movies Pietro and Freddy change the channel on whenever someone catches them watching together. It looks genuine enough that Todd’s heart skips a beat.
“See you tomorrow, liebling?” He asks.
Todd smirks back at him, trying to remember the feeling of holding hands on park rides and sneaking kisses at the back of the group. Something must catch, because Kurt’s eyes widen just a little and he tips his head away, the glow of his eyes flickering like he’s looking down.
“For sure, blueberry.” He says, squeezing Kurt’s hand before letting go.
Kurt rolls his eyes.
“Your cuteness is all that excuses the terrible nicknames.” he says, then ducks in close and plants a kiss on Todd’s cheek before the amphibious mutant can reply.
“Sweet dreams, little kaulquappe!” Kurt says, then ports away, leaving Todd in the entryway with Lance and Kitty staring at him like he’s announced plans to run away to the rodeo.
Todd glances over at them, affecting the unbothered attitude of a cat disturbed from a sunny dust patch before hopping for the stairs.
“Night love birds” He calls, biting his tongue as a flurry of whispers follows him up the stairs.
He shuts his bedroom door before collapsing into giggles. Lance’s absolute shock, eyes wider than the time they’d come downstairs to see Wanda had stuck all their shit to the ceiling for three days because the boys wouldn’t stop arguing until it pissed her off is going up on Todd’s memory wall he reserves for top achievements.
And, later as he climbs into bed, if he pushes the sensation of fuzzy warmth on his cheek and a soft, lilting voice telling him “sweet dreams” down to join the other rolling thoughts in his brain’s basement, that’s tomorrow Todd’s problem.