Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

Chapter Text

“The fuck is this, dawg?” Todd asks the next morning when Kurt sidles up to him and drops a brown paper bag over his shoulder.

“Your breakfast order, why did I get it wrong?” He asks, a thrill of panic running through him at the thought that Todd may have woken up and dismissed their game for the absurdity the stark morning light revealed it to be.

But the shorter mutant doesn’t crush the bag and leap down the hallway crowded with teens waiting for the first bell, or throw it back in Kurt’s face. Kurt sucks in a deep breath, willing his fur back down underneath his hologram. He doesn’t need to make this a fight before they’ve even taken a proper go at it. Especially when he spent the whole morning dodging Kitty’s burning stare that spoke a thousand questions and the other’s bewildered looks at the silent game of hide and seek between the two of them.

The harsh morning light highlighted exactly how flimsy the plan the two of them had come up with, and how detailed all the items on the ‘shit that annoys him about Todd Tolanksy’ list were compared  to the ‘shit that makes the frosch kind of cute, not that Kurt would ever say it’ list. He wants to talk to Todd before Kitty sinks her claws into him and drags him through a wall for answers.

Kurt catches Todd away from the Brotherhood, but still close enough to the other mutant's loitering down the hall that they could conceivably see them without overhearing their conversation. 

Todd shoots him a look like he’s unsure if the bag will hold actual food or a dead dove, but pulls it open with a finger and peeks. 

“Holy shit, how many biscuits do you think I eat, fuzz?” He says, a grin twitching at the edge of his lips. 

Kurt’s tail twitches with the urge to lash through the air, but he keeps it coiled tight around his leg, huffing his annoyance instead. Of course he brings Todd breakfast and the boy shittalks about it.

“I figured you might want to share with the others.” Kurt says, “Und I always hate being only half full, leaves me cranky.”

“Issat why you’re always sniping at me in the shift change before lunch?” Todd asks. 

The amphibious mutant doesn't wait for an answer. He darts his tongue into the bag, lightning-quick, sucking a biscuit up into his mouth.

Rogue and Berserker were on biscuit duty this week and they made them huge, thick and fluffy and a little bit salty in a way that made Kurt eat twice as many and get dirty looks from the rest of the table. This morning, he’d only eaten half his usual take, sneaking the rest into a napkin in his lap one at a time over the meal. 

He thought he’d gotten away with it too, until he caught Rogue’s raised eyebrow from across the table. Kurt had shot her the small, mischievous smile that usually let him pass under her radar without getting called out. She’d rolled her eyes at him, but a smirk crept into the curve of her smile. 

Todd’s cheeks bulge out as he chews, rounding his face even more. He gives Kurt a suspicious look when he can’t stop himself from giggling, but the blue mutant holds up his hands, fingers spread. 

Todd chokes a bit, even his superhuman throat not a match for a dry biscuit the size of his fist. Kurt retrieves the coke he’d tossed in his bag on the way out the door and hands it to Todd, shrugging and leaning against the wall to watch the milling crowd in the hallway when the shorter mutant shoots him a searching look.

If they’re gonna be pretend boyfriends Kurt is going to act like it. He might not kiss Todd in the hall in front of everyone, too aware of the ways guys in the locker room sneer at the mere suggestion of queerness with the threat of violence between their teeth, but there were other ways he could play the caring boyfriend role.

Getting bigots riled up was one thing, but painting yet another target on both their backs, when they only tentatively had each other’s backs, was a risk not worth the potential thrill of Todd's startled face if Kurt ducked in for a kiss in the main hallway. But breakfast felt like a reasonable display of affection. He’d brought Amanda food plenty of times when they dated. 

Todd chugs half the can in one go, belching loud enough that several teens turn to look their way with mingling looks of disgust and impressed. A couple of them catch Kurt’s eye, the brave ones who’ll still meet his eye after his inducer failed last year and sparked rumors that he was a “were-demon,” that is. 

Kurt shrugs, feigning a look of fond exasperation as he gestures at Todd with a tilt of his head. He ignores the tiny part of him that doesn’t find it all that hard to fake the fondness.

Todd drops into a crouch beside him against the wall, close enough that his shoulder brushes Kurt’s knee. He rustles around in the bag some more. 

“What, there’s no honey?” Todd asks.

Kurt feigns an air of offense, gesturing to himself with a pout. “What, I’m not enough sweetness for you?” 

“Oh blueberry, you’re all the sweetness in the world.” Todd says, leaning his head against Kurt’s leg to peer up at him with wide eyes, voice syrupy and wistful in a way that startles a laugh out of Kurt.

“What’s going on here? Are you poisoning our team mascot?” Pietro’s voice asks, suddenly right next to Kurt’s ear, loud and grating. 

Kurt grips his backpack strap to avoid jumping or snarling at the lanky speedster, sucking in a breath and giving him a flat look. He hears Todd give a cranky sigh, muttering to himself in a way that implies the mascot bit is not new and barely tolerated.

“Oh ja, thought I’d try for murder in broad daylight. Going for the black widow approach to romance.” Kurt says.

Todd makes a small choking giggle from his spot by the blue mutant’s knee. Pietro looks between the two of them as if their mutations have just produced a whole other set of prehensile limbs for the both of them. Kurt shoots him a smirk before bending sideways to whisper in Todd’s ear. 

The motion twists his spine at an angle Scott has informed him is not doable for most people and ‘a little bit freaky, man’ which sends a thrill though the part of Kurt that enjoys the yelps and titters he sometimes startles from others. A piece of himself he keeps tucked away, particularly in America, swathed in loose clothes and glowing pixels. 

“Check the bottom of the bag, you brat.” He says, then dares to dart out a hand and tuck some of Todd’s unruly hair behind his ear, “See you at lunch? Up in our spot?” 

Todd blinks wide eyes at him and Kurt feels wings of panic flicker against his ribs again. But the amphibious mutant gives him a crooked grin and leans into the touch, nodding. 

“Where we keep running into each other, yeah. See you, fuzz.” He says.

Kurt hopes they’re both talking about the gymnasium roof, but doesn’t want to clarify in front of Pietro and risk the ‘we’re sober now, how the fuck do we do this’ conversation he wants to have with Todd getting interrupted. He gives Todd a wink and stands, tossing a cheery, sarcastic salute to Pietro as he makes his exit. 

The ‘time to get your asses to class’ bell rings right as he sidles up alongside Scott, saving him from responding to the taller boy staring at him as if he might be Mystique in disguise or got brainwashed during his bi-monthly nocturnal ‘I need to not be in this eerily pristine mansion with its nearly plastic levels of curated garden’ roaming session. 

If he ducks his head to hide a smile in his shoulder when a thick east coast accent catches in his ears going ‘oh fuck yeah, there’s butter in here too’ over the din in the hallway, it’s only from satisfaction of well acted role, not from a little ember in his chest reigniting from the burst of joy in that voice.

“Thought you might be standing me up before our first date, fuzz.” Todd says as Kurt appears beside him on the roof after dodging not just Kitty, but Rogue and Scott as well. 

Tabby shot him a piercing look, but had towed Amara over to the tree where the two ate on days that were just for them without a word. Jean gave him that probing look she got when she desperately wanted to go digging in someone’s brain, but restrained herself because, morals. Evan wasn’t in school today, he had been increasingly absent since joining the Morlochs, even after figuring out how to retract his armor. Kurt ignored the ache in his chest at that absence, resolving to hit the Morloch hideout this weekend to try and catch up with the boney mutant. 

The other X-Kids either didn’t care about the drama happening, or hadn’t caught on yet. Kurt used that to his advantage, waiting til Cannonball and Jubilee started a near food fight that he may or may not have egged on before porting away.

The blue mutant huffs, dropping his open lunch kit between the two of them, nudging Todd with his tail and gesturing for him to take what he wants.

“You don’t have to feed me when no one’s watching, yo.” Todd says.

Kurt glances at him, and the tension hitching his shoulders retreats when he sees something unsure lurking underneath the prickly, guarded expression on Todd’s face. A readiness to bolt the second the blue mutant slips back into a familiar sneer, or worse, gives signs of pity. Kurt's irritation at the mistrust fizzles under the memory of the cold squirming feeling in his stomach whenever he realizes someone's kindness is charity in disguise instead of love.

Kurt groans and rolls his eyes, hoping the sarcastic approach isn’t going to lead to black eyes and bloody noses in the first twenty-four hours of this entire affair.

“I’m not about to give myself whiplash by making gooey eyes at you when everyone’s looking, but acting like you’re trash when no one’s around.” Kurt says, “Even as a pretend boyfriend, that’s douche behavior. Not sharing food falls into ‘acting like your trash’. It’s some sandwiches and fruit, not filet mignon, chill.”

Todd snorts, but sits up and flicks away his cigarette butt to pluck a sandwich from Kurt’s lunch kit. The blue mutant wrinkles his nose.

“If soap burns you, I can’t imagine what those are doing.” He says, then flinches at how quickly he manages to shatter his own attempts at civility.

Todd shoots him a crooked smirk, as if he reads the other boy’s thoughts. 

“Good to know you haven’t completely been body snatched, fuzznuts. Makes the sandwich taste better.” He says, taking a bite. “And I’ve been rolling my own. Forge trades me tobacco for showing him how new tech works and helping him out some. No ammonia or any of that shit. ‘S natural.” 

Kurt gives Todd a disbelieving look, but he’s listened to Forge wax on enough about the differences between home rolled cigarettes and weed versus manufactured tobacco products and the sacredness of plants that the argument doesn’t feel worth it. The little twist in Todd’s grin says the amphibious mutant knows it too.

"How was last night and this morning?" Kurt asks, digging into his own sandwich. 

He regrets a bit not packing double his usual meal, but not the choice to share what he did bring. If he gets hungry before the day’s out, he's pretty sure he's got some protein bars crammed under the forest floor of discarded papers in his locker.

Todd hums, plucking the whole pomegranate from Kurt’s lunch kit and spinning it between his fingers a moment. It’s a big one and Kurt’s hoping it’ll be that perfect kind of tart sweet when he cracks it open. Todd gives him a questioning look like he suspects Kurt might be part of some underground fruit smuggling ring. The blue mutant reaches out to take the fruit from Todd, but the other boy glares and tucks it to his chest, out of reach.

“I know how to open it, dawg, I’m trying to figure out what bougie fucking market you got this from in nowhere Bayville.” Todd says.

He digs a switchblade with a worn, marker graffitied wood handle out of his pocket and pierces through the belly button divot of the fruit, twisting it with a satisfying crack. A rivulet of deep crimson runs out from one of the cracks in the fruit. Todd’s tongue darts out catching the drip before it hits his leather cuff. Kurt blinks and flicks his eyes away from mossy, red streaked skin. 

“Last night no one said shit. I bounced upstairs before Lance and Kitty could reboot. But their faces were award winning, dawg. That parting kiss? Emmy winning choice.” Todd says. “This morning however, I almost stop dropped and rolled out of the fucking car to get away from Lance trying to drill directly into my brain via staring me down in the rearview mirror. Then your shit this morning with ‘Tro? I had to cut class ten minutes early to avoid him catching me before I could get up here. Freddy says thank you for the biscuits by the way.” 

“How do you want to shell these shits? You didn’t pack a spoon.” Todd says, waving the cracked open pomegranate. 

Kurt holds out his hand again and this time Todd lets him take the fruit. He extends his claws, prying into the cracks so it splits in two jagged pieces, careful not to spill the juice on his lap. He holds out one half to Todd, taking a bite out of the biggest cluster of juicy crimson seeds from the other. Todd watches him as if he’d just taken a bite out of a tennis ball. 

“That is not how you do that, dawg.” He says, taking the other half from Kurt.

“It is if you have big clumsy fingers that burst all the seeds when you try to pry them out.” Kurt says. “Do you think Lance and Pietro are angry, about us?” 

Todd rolls his eyes as if Kurt’s a kindergartner using a butcher knife to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He snatches the bitten pomegranate half from Kurt’s hand, ignoring the blue mutant’s affronted squawk. The amphibious mutant dumps both halves in the now-empty tupperware that housed their sandwiches, snapping the lid on and shaking the entire thing as if it owes him money and his rent is due yesterday. He maintains eye contact with Kurt the entire time, staring the other mutant down like he’s a particularly inept donkey. 

“Mad suspicious yes, mad angry, no.” Todd says, prying the lid off the container and holding it out for Kurt to inspect. 

Some of the seeds burst in the shaking, but most are intact, knocked loose from their spongey prison. Kurt grins, scooping out a handful, too excited to care about the mess he’ll have to wash from his fingers later.

“Why did no one show me this?” He says. 

“Probably because you’re a know-it-all and it’s funnier to watch you bite into the damn thing like a fucking fruit bat dracula.” Todd says, shaking at least a quarter of the seeds into his mouth.

“I am not a know-it-all!” Kurt says, snatching the container from Todd and following his lead, tipping it up and letting a rain of tiny, sweet-sour jewels tumble into his mouth.

“Which of us just acted like the other was from another planet and had never seen a fucking fruit before?” Todd says. 

Kurt’s ears fold back as he sulks at the other mutant, unable to argue. 

“Fake boyfriend rule: You act like you know it all, I get to give you shit when it blows up in your face.” Todd says, pointing.

Kurt hands him the container of pomegranate seeds, nodding with a wry grimace. 

“Do we want to tell everyone we’re dating, or just play coy until they figure it out?” Kurt says. 

“Are the nosy-ass X-Geeks really gonna sit around and wait for you to spill the beans, fuzz?” Todd asks. 

Kurt winces, “Considering I had to stage a circus to escape the lunch table, no.” 

“Exactly, I’m gonna get the fifth degree the second that last bell rings today.” Todd says. 

“I feel like we need to have more of a story.” Kurt says, lying back on the roof.

“Nah, dawg. We’re better off making shit up and comparing notes later. Less is more.” Todd counters, sprawling out beside Kurt.

Kurt tips his face to look at Todd, absently blowing away his bangs as they fall in his eyes. The other boy’s face twists in a grimace as if a bug just crawled across Kurt’s cheek. Though maybe that wouldn’t be a gross factor for the amphibious mutant. Kurt bristles, feeling his fur stand up underneath the hologram. Todd catches his defensive look and holds up a hand, fingers splayed.

“Sorry, your pixel suit is mad creepy.” Todd says. 

Kurt blinks feeling like the world’s tipped over.

“The hologram creeps you out?” He says, leaving the ‘As opposed to what’s underneath’ unspoken.

Todd shoots him another unimpressed look, rolling on his side to fully face the other teen. He props his head up on one hand, draping the other on his raised knee.

“Yeah dawg, it looks like I’m talking to a possessed fabio twink ken doll. I don’t get why you stuck with it after your little accident last year.” Todd says.

“Fabio twink…” Kurt mutters staring at Todd like if he looks long enough, he might be able to see his way through the tangled labyrinth of the other boy’s brain. 

Todd reaches out and flicks Kurt’s hair into his face, snickering when the other boy sputters. When Kurt sweeps his hair back to glare at the other boy, Todd’s looking down at him with that smirk on his wide lips that teeters between nasty and playful, Kurt feels a familiar knot twist in his stomach, the urge to knock that smirk off the other boy’s face surging up, though his method of choice feels unclear now.

“I said what I said.” Todd says, “And I’m not gonna date a weird plastic imitation of an actual hot guy.” 

Kurt jerks as Todd’s words tumble through his brain. The amphibious mutant seems to catch up to his own mouth at the same time, because his eyes widen and his face flushes an interesting orangey color underneath the mossy green marks that splay over his skin. 

“Fuck. I, you know what I mean.” Todd says, “You look better as yourself, and I’m not gonna be the fake boyfriend who’s only into a guy when he’s hiding.” 

Kurt bites his lip to hide the smile that threatens to split his face. His chest feels tight and he’s embarrassed about the way his eyes sting, that he’s so moved by Todd of all people liking him better without the inducer, when until today, a civil conversation between the two of them still involved more insults than actual talking. 

He lets out a shaky breath and lets his hand slide over his wrist, thumb finding the familiar button. The tiny hum that always surrounds him, a reminder of the blessed prison he carries everywhere, falls silent. He looks over at Todd to find the other mutant watching him with faint surprise.

“I don’t want to put you in danger by going out with me like this.” Kurt says.

Memories of people shouting, the sudden shove of hands on his back, water and god knows what else tossed out of windows over him, over his friends back home as they walk down the street flicker in the back of his mind. The other performers always laugh it off, always push Kurt to leave the inducer behind when they go out, but shame and anger always writhe in Kurt’s gut to see the ways the fear and hatred dumped his way catch them in the backsplash. How the world assumes they must be mutants by association, sending them crashing down social ladders they’re already precariously balanced on as roma. 

Todd laughs, loud and harsh, a grim note under the sound, different from the easy free cackles he’d given last night in the gazebo. He gives Kurt an ironic, amused look, like he’s just offered a man in line for hanging a neck rub.

“Fuzz, I don’t know what about my entire everything gives you the impression ‘does not catch shit for being an obvious mutant on the street,’ but I assure you, sitting out with you at the pizzeria while your au naturale is not gonna be what ruins my reputation.” Todd says. 

Kurt ducks his head, feeling heat flush along his back as his fur fluffs up. He looks at Todd, fully taking him in for the first time in a while. He’s filled out a bit in the past year, hints of the adult he’ll be emerging from the gangly limbs and rough teenage edges. His pale skin has greened, faint enough to miss in certain lights, but in the noontime sun on the roof, he’s a light mossy green of riverstone, darker swirling splotches spreading across his skin. The swirls go all over, Kurt can tell from the glimpses of the boy’s legs through the slashes in the thighs and knees of his jeans. 

Unbidden, the thought that Todd looks like some marsh fae that got lost at a punk concert and decided to stay bubbles to the surface of Kurt’s thoughts and he stifles a giggle. Todd shoots him a suspicious look, but relaxes when he decides the blue mutant isn’t mocking him. The amphibious mutant stretches out one broad, webbed hand and pats Kurt on the elbow.

“It’s good to know you’re keeping chivalry alive, blueberry, but I promise you this princess has a fucking knife and knows how to use it.” Todd says.

Kurt huffs a ghost of a laugh, “Jean tells me chivalry was apparently more about horse etiquette than infantilizing women.” 

“See, feminism says to trust me to watch my own froggy ass, and do what you want to about your blue buns.” Todd says.

A full laugh slips from Kurt’s throat as he covers his face with his hands, “Please never refer to my ass that way again.” 

“Alright, I guess I can be satisfied with a blue moon.” Todd says, cackling as Kurt swats him in the face with an open palm. 

He slides his hands up to look at Todd again, and feels guilt rain cold over his mirth, fizzling it out. Todd must catch something in his face because he sneers, the expression annoyed rather than condemning.

“You’re doing the sad eyes thing again.” Todd says, “Yeah yeah, you’re a lucky bitch who can hide under a fancy watch and I’m the poor schmuck who everyone sees. If the stupid pixel suit makes your life better, ditching it because you feel bad for all the fuckers who don’t get one doesn’t fix the problem. I’m just saying don’t keep the fucking thing if it’s to make everyone around you feel better, but you’re still suffocating behind glass no one sees.”

Kurt jerks, looking at Todd like he suspects the boy might have swapped powers with Jean. 

Todd rolls his eyes, “It’s not rocket science if you have a heart attack and start cringing back from everyone like you’re sorry for breathing the same air every time that thing fritzes out.”

Kurt doesn’t say anything, feeling even more laid bare than when he first shut the inducer off. His tail wraps over his legs, the same way it does when his mother asks him where he’s been off to in that warm, knowing voice, like he can curl up and hide from being seen. 

He looks at Todd again, still lounging not even an arm’s length away on the roof. The amphibious mutant’s gaze flicks to look at him out of the corner of his eye, the marbled, gold and red shine like amber inlaid in the glassy obsidian of his sclera and pupil. His skin glistens a bit in the sun, like he just stepped out of the shower. Kurt’s eyes catch on the swell of the other mutant’s bicep in the triangle of space where his chin rests on his hand. He swallows.

“Christ, fuzz, don’t start giving me the Captain America hero eyes like the little old ladies at the grocery store.” Todd says, “I can’t take that shit, pretend boyfriend or no.” 

“You’re pretty too.” Kurt says at the same time, the words falling out of him before he can stop himself. 

Todd freezes, staring at Kurt as his brain picks out the blue teen’s words from where they were garbled underneath his own complaint. The wild circles of Kurt’s flicking tail kick up the gravel on the roof behind him. He scrambles to backpedal.

“I mean, you look good as you are too. And I’m sorry people don’t see that.” Kurt says, “But I wouldn’t date anyone if I did not think them beautiful, I confess that sin of vanity.” 

He risks a glance at Todd. The amphibious mutant’s face is that salmon orange again, the color spreading over the tips of his ears as well. His eyes are glued to the roof, mouth set in a wobbled line like he’s caught between a smile and gaping openly. Below them, the lunch bell rings and saves Kurt from the consequences of his mouth running without consulting his brain. 

“See you in art?” He asks, managing to keep his voice from squeaking.

Todd snaps out of his reverie, looking at Kurt with something shy hiding under his crooked grin. 

“Yeah, sure fuzz.” He says and Kurt ports away with a wave before he’s managed to shove his lunch kit back in his backpack. 

Kitty gives him a startled look when he shows up to chemistry sans hologram. The approving smile pushing the corners of her mouth, dampens the power of the curious stares from half the room. Kurt gets nothing out of the class. His notebook passes back and forth between the two of them as the phantom mutant drills answers from him in neat, glittery bubble print to his chicken scratch. 

When he drops the line that he and Todd are dating, she whips her head to him so fast her ponytail slaps her in the face and Ms. Lancaster asks if she has any questions, ending their epistolary conversation. But Kitty scrawls ‘LATER’ two lines high on his notebook, underlining it three times before shoving it back to him. Kurt’s tail squeezes anxiously around the leg of his stool, but the curious, probing looks Kitty shoots him holds no anger as they dive into their practice work, and he relaxes by the end of class.

If butterflies explode in Kurt’s chest when Todd’s crooked smirk blooms into a surprised smile when he glances up from scribbling over the wood of the art table to see Kurt, furry and blue drop down across from him in art class, he tucks them away without looking at them too closely.

Chapter Text

“Did you really get that bored since I moved out?” Evan asks as he rolls up the ramp, balancing his board on the edge to stare at Kurt where he’s sprawled out on the deck next to Kitty.

“I mean, I did lose a makeout and prank partner.” Kurt says, “Not that you’re replaceable.”

Evan drops down next to the other two mutants, “One, you and I stopped making out before you and Amanda were even a thing. Two, that is correct and I appreciate the acknowledgment.”

Every third Saturday, the Morlocks came into Bayville, camping out in an abandoned warehouse at the edge of town as they traded with other mutant groups in the region and Callisto and the other adults did who knows what else. The X-Kids were allowed to visit, providing they didn’t tell Xavier where they were going and let one of the adult Morlocks, Brain Cell, obscure the location of the Morlock bases in their minds. 

Kurt, Rogue, and Kitty had gone out to see Evan and the phantom mutant had spent the first hour of them hanging out with Evan and the Morlock teens vibrating out of her skin. She’d practically dragged the other three over to the makeshift skatepark when the Morlock kids went out to the field to play soccer, shouting an aggressively polite rejection to the invite to play. Evan looked at Kurt and Rogue with wide eyes for an answer, but Rogue only smirked, elbowing Kurt while he winced and shrugged.

The second they were out of hearing range of anyone else, Kitty rapid-fire dumped the details about Todd and Kurt’s relationship that she’d wrung out of Kurt the night before. Said details being: Kurt and Todd had hooked up in the middle of a fight over a month ago, Kurt admitting to struggling with attraction to the amphibious mutant since late last year, and that once they stopped sucking face and started talking he found Todd smart, funny, rude, and morally infuriating in ways that made him want to argue to understand him better. He figured all of this was vague enough to work and trueish seeming enough that it wouldn’t immediately dissolve under scrutiny. 

What he hadn’t expected was Kitty acting as if she’d won a bet. 

“I figured you two might have hooked up last year honestly.” Kitty says, rustling around the bottom of her takeout bag for any spare fries, frowning when none appear, “Tabby insisted you were both too clueless for that.” 

Kurt squawks, choking a bit on his burger before he can get a protest out.

“Critter, you trip on your face for anyone with a smart mouth and an eye for trouble.” Rogue says, squeaking her slurpee straw as she stirs the icy slush on the bottom of her cup. 

Evan hums, nodding, “You have a thing for delinquent nerds. And legs. Dude’s got both down.” 

“Delinquent nerds?” Kurt says, because he can’t process that apparently he and Todd dating is a surprise more for how long it took rather than it happening at all and he needs something to latch onto.

“Tabby is a feminist scholar shaken up with the anarchist cookbook.” Kitty says, ticking off a finger.

“That’s one person.” Kurt says, “Your sample size is insufficient.”

“Scott. Looks like a J, Crew Model, has read The Art of War and quotes it in team meetings, is willing to throw down at the drop of a hat.” Rogue says. 

Kurt sulks at her, “That’s dirty, that crush lasted like a month and you know why I shared with you.” 

Rogue shrugs, unrepentant as she draws a long slow slurp from her slush. Kurt had confessed his ill-fated crush on Scott when Rogue confided her own unappreciated affection for their uptight leader last year. It wasn’t a particularly huge secret, but to bring it up as justification for why his relationship with Todd made perfect sense felt plain rude. 

Evan points at himself, “Me. Adorable roommate, former makeout pal, film connoisseur, mutant rebel and teenage dropout.” 

“We really miss you in class you know.” Kitty says. 

“You could probably get a GED at least,” Rogue adds, “Save yourself a headache if you want options later.” 

“Your aunt and Herr McCoy enjoyed the letters you wrote them.” Kurt says, “If you have more before reading their replies, I can take them when we go.” 

Evan grimaces, flopping back on the platform under the weight of their words. He rocks his skateboard back and forth under one foot, throwing his arms over his eyes. It’s been nearly a year since he joined the Morlocks, leaving Xavier’s behind. Evan had kept in touch with the other X-Kids and, from what Kurt knew of, his parents, but refused to leave the underground mutants. For the first three months, the teachers had persisted in trying to get him back, Logan sniffing out their bases and surprising the boney mutant whenever he surfaced, unperturbed by the Morlocks wiping their location from his brain and dumping him back in the middle of town.

Then one day, Evan said Ororo went to Callisto alone, dressed in one of her casual sundresses, no uniform or communicator in sight. She and the knife wielding mutant disappeared into Callisto’s room for over an hour, Evan and some of the other Morlock kids anxiously eavesdropped outside the door, scattering whenever an adult shooed them away, only to creep back. They caught nothing, except the low murmuring voices of the two mutants, and once, a sharp cut-off gasp. 

Ororo pulled Evan into a hug the second she stepped back through the doorway, whispering in his ear that she trusted him to live his convictions and he could stay with the Morlocks, but needed to call his parents every week, keep learning, and never hesitate to call her for help. Evan had gone quiet a moment, swallowing thickly after this part in the story. His aunt had then turned to Callisto, whose dark lipstick was strangely smudged and told the other woman “I trust your guidance to be as true as your aim” before leaving. From that point on, whenever she, or one of the other adults, dropped by to see the boney mutant, they never brought up him leaving again.

“I signed up to take my GED this spring, I’ll get my diploma with the rest of you.” Evan says, his hand sliding over the side pocket on his cargo shorts, where he’s tucked away the letters Kurt brought him this trip. 

Kurt and Kitty leap on him before he fully gets the words out, shaking his shoulders as they pile onto him whooping. 

Rogue grasps Evan’s ankle with one gloved hand, wiggling his foot as she gives him a rare full smile. 

“Lead with that next time.” Kurt says, bumping his forehead against the brown skinned mutant’s. “And now you can’t list ‘high school dropout’ as one of your sexy delinquent attributes.”

Evan bumps him back, used to Kurt’s head nuzzles after three years. “I would have, but Kitty was going to have an aneurysm if she didn’t get to gossip about your love life.” 

Kitty sits up, glaring down at the two boys, who stare up at her like a pair of startled owletts in the sunlight, “He hid this for like a month, then ports Todd into the Brotherhood house Thursday night, and shows up to Chemistry Friday afternoon--with his inducer off--because Todd said he liked it.” 

“I didn’t do it just because Todd said he liked it!” Kurt protests at the same time that Evan whips to turn that owl-eyed stare on him going, “You showed up to class in the fuzz?” 

Kitty lunges forward into Evan’s face, bracing herself on Kurt’s shoulder, “He showed up blue and fucking smiling!” 

Kurt scrunches in on himself curling away from the other two mutants as he feels his face heat and fur fluff up. A gloved hand catches his lashing tail, squeezing the spade. 

“What news do you have for us from the mutant grapevine, Spyke?” She asks, her eyes flicking warmly to Kurt before looking at the other two mutants, and warm gratitude and affection flood Kurt’s chest as he thanks whatever divine force brought him and his sister together. 

He gently taps the tip of his tail against the little patch of exposed skin on the back of Rogue’s hand, a split second touch. It’s a habit he got into ages ago, in moments where he wants so badly to make sure Rogue knows she’s loved, that she’s wanted, and he appreciates her. Rogue’s green eyes catch his and she grins, something gentle hiding in the edges of the expression. 

Evan and Kitty share a look, a raising and lowering of eyebrows and twisting of lips as the pair debates whether to play into the obvious change of subject or keep egging the blue mutant on. Kurt holds his breath, toes curling a bit as Rogue’s grip on his tail keeps it from lashing. Evan tilts his head to look up at Kitty, sticking out his lower lip the way he does when he knows that she knows what she probably should do and is just resisting the decision. Kitty puffs out her cheeks, sulking at him before blowing her brown curls out of her face with a raspberry.

“Fine.” She says, turning her piercing stare on Kurt, “You’re spared. Evan, give us the goss.” 

When Pietro finally swats Todd down from the ceiling with a broom to the ass and pins him face down to the Brotherhood sofa late Friday night, a tiny part of Todd’s actually relieved. Lance calls out a warning to the speedster as he strides into the room from the kitchen, but the lanky boy waves him off. His knees are pointy against Todd’s ribs and he throws a half heated elbow at the white haired mutant, who pushes him harder into the sofa with the handle of the broom across his back. 

“Can it Alvers, I held this in on the car ride home, I let him scurry away into his little lair as soon as we got here, I didn’t say shit all through dinner, and we’ve sat through two hours of crap reruns. You know damn well time is relative and how much of my fucking mercy this evening equates to.” Pietro releases one side of the broom to ruffle Todd’s hair, “Beep beep Toddles, time for the little froggy to sing.” 

Todd regrets, for the millionth time, the day he pinched those nature documentaries for Freddy from the video store. 

Tabby vaults over the back of the couch to land beside Todd’s head. The typical thrill of his face being in such close proximity to her ass is dampened somewhat by the apprehension for the entire situation. Tabby’s hand replaces Pietro’s in his hair, fingers running through it in a way that Todd can’t help but relax under. 

“You can let him up, Pi. He’s not gonna bolt this time, will you Toddy?” Tabby asks, voice that arsenic sweet that Todd can’t resist the taste of. 

Todd hadn’t waited for Lance to finish parking before launching himself from the car onto the first story awning of the Brotherhood home, ignoring the older boy’s irritated shout about fucking up his suspension. The amphibious mutant had meant it when he told Kurt he didn’t think they should pre-plan their story, but that didn’t stop a riot of anxious worms from exploding in his guts the second the Brotherhood all piled in the car to drive home. He’d hid in his room until Freddy called them all for dinner. Lance snagged his arm afterwards and steered him to the living room before he could leap back up the stairs.

The car ride home from school had been unsettlingly normal, the Brotherhood kids all taking their usual spots. Wanda had nudged Todd when he hesitated to climb into his usual spot between her and Freddy in the backseat, grumbling at him to hurry up. Tabby bullied Pietro into giving her shotgun as she tagged along with them. The speedster didn’t even try to needle Todd into giving up his seat, though he still elbowed Todd and Freddy as much as possible and Wanda as much as he dared as he clambered over them to curl up in the bed of the Jeep, sulking like a spurned cat. 

Tabby and Pietro filled the airspace with chatter on the drive, Todd too nervous to get words out past the lump in his throat, feeling like he’d swallowed that pomegranate from the furball’s lunch whole. Todd had felt Pietro’s eyes boring into the back of his head, but then Lance had caught the speedster’s eyes in the rearview mirror and asked a question Todd heard, but flowed through his ears like a conversation overheard from the other room when you’re laid out on the couch half-dreaming. Freddy’d given him a concerned little nudge which rocked Todd into Wanda because even the tall boy’s gentle gestures held all his power in them. Todd had shot Freddy a twitching smile. Freddy had frowned, but said nothing. 

Freddy pads quietly into the room, Wanda trailing after him with her quilt wrapped around her shoulders like she’s an aging king. The tall boy is holding a stack of movies in his arms, the selections the pair had retrieved from the Brotherhood film stash in the hall closet. He shifts nervously as he takes in the three on the couch, Lance leaning over them like a scolding laundress in a renaissance painting. 

“Did you tell him I said thank you for the biscuits?” Freddy asks and Todd can’t help the startled laugh that falls out of his mouth.

“Yeah, Dukes, I thanked him for you.” Todd says. 

Wanda elbows her brother and Pietro let’s Todd up, heaving a sigh as he slouches into his seat. Wanda rolls her eyes and shoves herself into the space between the two mutants, dropping directly onto Todd’s legs and wiggling til he moves them out from under her. Todd drags himself to sitting, keeping his eyes carefully trained on the old door they’d laid out on a pair of milk crates as a coffee table.

“Why praytell, was Nightfreak bringing you biscuits and coke at eight in the morning?” Pietro asks. 

“Don’t call him that.” Todd snaps, before he consciously decides a good boyfriend probably wouldn’t tolerate certain nicknames for his partner.

“I don’t think coke is the only sugar blue’s been giving you lately.” Tabby says, voice sly. 

“Nah, he gave me a pomegranate at lunch too, though I had to watch him bite it like a fucking apple first.” Todd says. 

“Does this mean you’re spending winters at the X-Geek’s now? Because let me tell you, they have rules for if you fart and you’re gonna go apeshit after like three days.” Lance says. 

The other Brotherhood kids turn as one to stare at the mulleted mutant, as if he’d come downstairs with his underwear over his clothes and announced that as his new uniform. Lance bristles at the inspection.

“What? It’s a classic myth. I read.” He says. 

“I can’t decide which is more fantastic, blue as the shadowy god of the underworld, or Todd as a nubile goddess of spring.” Tabby says. 

Wanda twists her face into a scowl, snapping one of her gummy worms in half, “That myth has gross shit in it, like kidnapping.” 

Freddy’s face twists into that troubled look he gets when the murder violins kick up during a horror movie, “Oh, I don’t like that.” 

“Depends on the reading, there’s some cool ones that imply Persephone thought Hades was banging and invited herself into his house.” Tabby says. 

“That sounds like Todd behavior.” Lance says.

“And we clearly have Demeter here.” Pietro says, laying a hand on Lance’s arm where the taller boy’s draped himself over the back of the couch. Lance shoots the speedster the affronted look he gives the lanky boy when Pietro eats his cereal with orange juice instead of milk. Pietro tips his nose in the air, utterly unphased. 

“Spare me, Lancelot, this morning you were staring at Todd like you were two minutes away from making him piss on a stick in case he got knocked up.” Pietro says. 

Todd chokes, “Pretty sure that’s not a concern, yo.” 

Tabby produces a condom from God knows where, given she’s dressed in an oversized t-shirt and rolled up lounge shorts with no pockets to speak of, “Better to be prepared. I know blue’s always carrying, but you should really share the responsibility.” 

Todd’s horrified by the hot flush he feels creep over his face and neck as Tabby drops the condom down his shirt.

“Oh, that I definitely did not need to know about the furball.” Lance mutters, running a hand through his hair. 

Todd catches Wanda’s eye in the midst of shaking the condom out from his clothes and freezes as those grey-green eyes lock onto him, pinning him like a bug. 

“You can just ask girls to be mean to you.” She says, and Todd feels himself go impossibly redder. He wonders if he wriggles enough he can get the dilapidated old sofa to swallow him hole, pulling him into another dimension where none of this conversation is happening. Tabby slumps against him as she howls with laughter. He hears Freddy make a high, confused noise in the back of his throat and Lance’s whuffing chuckle he makes when he’s trying to be mature and not laugh with the rest of them. 

“I fail to see what bearing these instructions for how to get a dominatrix has in this conversation, Wandy.” Pietro says, giving his sister the look that means he’s knocking on their weird psychic twin door. She scrunches her nose at him and he scrunches his back, sulking. Wanda sticks out her tongue before turning back to Todd. 

“He’s the one who told you that, last year.” She says, in that flat knowing way she has where most people would politely pretend it's a question.

Todd nods, running a hand up through his hair with a sigh that is a half garbled “Yeah.” 

Tabby grins, throwing an arm around Todd’s shoulders, “Look at the wonders that little bit of advice did for you.” 

Pietro groans into one of the dozen throw pillows he keeps adding to their decor, “I do not need to think of that in any context that involves my sister. Or Todd. Together or separate.” 

Wanda gives that little smirk that would be a cackle on anyone else. She licks a gummi worm and drops it down her brother’s neck without a word and Pietro scrambles shrieking off the couch. 

“Are you happy?” Freddy asks, all of them too used to the twins’ behavior to stop the conversation.

Todd bites his lip to cover a smile, thinking about that loud rough laugh Kurt had in the gazebo last night, a melodic voice bursting out “You’re pretty too!” and those gold eyes going round as twin moons immediately after. 

“Yeah. I’m happy.” Todd says and Tabby shakes his shoulder, turning to press a kiss into his hair that lights up his ribs with warm glitter. 

Pietro rolls to sit up from where he’s sprawled out on the floor, “He threw you through a window!” 

Todd starts at the protectiveness in the lanky mutant’s face and voice, a warmth running across his shoulders, tentative like the first shoots in spring. He turns away from Pietro’s face, afraid of seeing that look slip away to be replaced by something mocking, the care between all of them still feeling delicate as spiderwebs. 

“And I’ve kicked him in the ribs.” Todd says, leg jumping a bit as a thousand memories of hard fists and bloody noses and rage so hot his vision whites out flickering through his mind. 

“But you haven’t gone at each other like that in a while.” Tabby says, her eyes holding that knowing look that strips Todd right to the bone every time. 

Wanda gives her brother a look, pulling him back up onto the couch, “Can you say how we all were before was much different?” 

The air stills with her words, as they collectively fall back into memories of their first days together. Of screaming fights and smashing through plaster walls, skirting each other like feral cats afraid of losing an inch of ground, only working together when Mystique blasted through the door with hellfire on her heels and mission in her hands. It took the Magneto’s Mindfreak guy messing with Wanda to pull them out of that, to shatter the illusion that this was a job and they didn’t give a shit about each other.

Nearly two years later, they still fought sometimes, still bristled when words landed wrong banging up against histories that began long before any of them crossed paths, but they weren’t the brutal, wounding arguments of desperation and trying to win. They talked shit out, they fucked off when the fire got too hot and came back together when it cooled down enough not to burn the house to the ground around them. Some nights Todd lay awake for hours, afraid of waking up to blistering screams and the shock that this tentative peace they carved out in the spaces between missions, when Mystique and Magneto’s prying eyes were otherwise occupied, had all been a dream. 

Lance’s hand drops warm and heavy on his shoulder, squeezing. Todd tips his head to look back at him. 

“You’re happy, I’m happy.” Lance says, “But Tabby’s right, wrap your dick up. You two would make weird fucking kids and I don’t want to be a grandmother yet.” 

He pulls himself over the back of the couch using Todd’s shoulder as leverage, cutting off the amphibious mutant’s protests before they can start as he rolls over the other four teens on the couch. Lance crosses his arms behind his head as he lands with his feet in Tabby’s lap, head on Pietro’s. Wanda throws a gummi worm in his face in protest but Lance catches it in his mouth, chewing merrily as he asks Freddy what their selection for the evening is.

Freddy begins shuffling through the selection of videos piled in his lap, holding each up for consideration as he gives the most misleading summary possible as ritual requires. The Brotherhood always select films based on how wrong they think Freddy’s description is, and over time the big mutant’s delivery has gotten so level they can’t tell when he’s made up utter batshit or when he’s reading directly off the back of the cover. Wanda never helps the other’s suss him out, despite being the unofficial co-curator of their movie nights.

This time, as Wanda and Tabby slouch in on either side of him and Freddy leans back against their legs while Lance and Pietro argue over what kind of camera the videographer probably used and “Which one of us dated a film nerd, Alvers” echoes from the end of the couch, their routine settles over Todd like a familiar blanket, the pins and needles of the ride home forgotten.

Chapter Text

On Thursday, Kurt drops into his seat next to Todd like a puppet with cut strings, all heavy limbs and none of the grace he usually tries to cover up for reasons Todd does not get. His head lands on the desk with a muffled thump as his backpack hits the floor and he sighs like a deflating balloon. 

“You alright there, blueberry?” Todd asks, leaning forward to flick the edge of Kurt’s hood, peering at the pale illusion cast over the blue mutant’s face.

Kurt squints back at him like an owl caught out in midday. 

“Sleep and I are not on speaking terms.” He grumbles, cheek pressed into the desk. 

“Wagner, heads up when the bell sounds.” Mr. Finch’s rasping wheeze barks from the front of the room. 

Todd has to hold in a laugh at the barely restrained irritation in the blue mutant’s face as he lurches back to sit up straight. By the time he’s upright, the expression that speaks of plans to fill Finch’s desk with ball bearings has vanished behind a veneer of tired neutrality that drops onto his face like a shop gate at closing time. Finch looks at the blue mutant, a twitch of unease in the corners of his greying mustache at matching Kurt’s unhologramed gold stare with his own watery blue one. 

Finch is so fucking old, Forge had been in his classes in the 70’s and the old crank’s politics were like a time capsule from the cold war, all red scare and the kind of rah rah patrioticism that hear’s Bruce Springsteen’s Born in the USA and only remembers to chorus. Todd had naturally been an unfavorite in the class, but in the first weeks of the semester, he’d been shocked to find the blue mutant kicking it right beside him at the top of the old bastard’s shitlist.

Finch began that first week calling on Kurt at every opportunity as a first hand source on the advancements of Europe as the other “developed continent” in the world, then quickly fell off after the fifth time the blue mutant answered a question on advancements in Europe with glib commentary on stolen riches from colonized lands. When the older man stopped calling on Kurt, the blue mutant began raising his hand, keeping it up even as Finch scanned the rest of the room for any other takers. 

Whether out of genuine interest for what the German mutant might say, or general teenage insolence, the class reached an unspoken rule that if Kurt’s hand was up, no one else’s would be. Todd had escalated this practice one day when Finch attempted to call on someone at random and he’d called out from the back of the room, “I think Wagner’s got his hand up, teach” and a wave of giggles had flowed through the room. This started a mutiny in the class where, every third question or so, instead of answering when called on, the other students would point out Kurt’s raised hand. 

The old bastard tried to get Kurt kicked out of the class, but Ms. Curtis, their equally ancient literature teacher, offered for her and several of the other teachers to sit in on their history period for a week as monitors. Their evaluation determined Kurt’s contributions to be perfectly respectful and that a change of schedule was too disruptful to him and the other students who would be required to switch places with him. Finch had purpled at that evaluation, but said nothing. After the first three weeks, Finch stopped asking them many questions, and they started watching a lot more documentaries. 

Today looks like a documentary day. Finch snaps his fingers at two of the kids in the front row until they get up and wheel the boxy black TV out from the corner of the room. Old dude doesn’t bother putting the documentary in himself, handing the frayed cardboard VHS box to one of the teens and snapping off a quick “There will be a quiz on this” to the room before retreating to his desk. 

“Thank gott, we don’t have to hear him blow on for an hour and a half.” Kurt mutters next to him and Todd huffs a laugh. The lights go off in the classroom, and Kurt sighs beside Todd. He slouches like his head’s filled with cement on a rubberband of a neck, chin landing heavily in his hand. 

“Put your head down, I’ll nudge you if the old fart starts looking your way.” Todd says. 

Kurt shoots him a look, eyes glowing in the dark. He must be tired, because he doesn’t bother to say anything, just drops his head in his folded arms with a sigh. Todd glances over to Mr. Finch’s desk in the front of the room, but the old bastard is absorbed with something on his desk. He’s holding a red pen like he’s grading, but Todd can see the cover of a book of crossword puzzles peeking out from the stack of papers he’s hiding it in. 

Todd doodles on his desk as his eyes skim over the flickering black and white footage on the screen, droning narration drifting through his ears like static. His hand comes up to rest on Kurt’s shoulders without him thinking about it. The blue mutant gives a sleepy questioning hum, but Todd murmurs a nonsense reassurance back and he settles just as quickly. Kurt’s warm even through his sweatshirt, Todd can feel the firm muscles and ridge of his spine and shoulder blades underneath it. 

Todd keeps his head tilted towards his desk, but flicks his eyes up to scan the room. The kids in this class haven’t been particularly shitty to either him or Kurt, but outside of egging on Finch, they hadn’t gone out of their way to be friendly with them either. That rule holds true now. In the dark of the room, no one spares the two sitting in a pair of desks towards the back even a second glance, everyone drifting in their own private clouds of teenage distraction that come from being trapped in a windowless cement box on a perfectly good Thursday morning. 

Todd’s eyes trail down his arm to study his hand where it rests on the blue mutant’s back. Kurt’s broader than Todd expects, when he stops to look. Cyclops being built like an inverted tortilla chip makes Kurt look even more lithe when they’re shoulder to shoulder. Todd’s webbed fingers sprawl out wide, but don’t manage to dwarf the muscled lines of the blue mutant’s shoulders. A voice in Todd’s brain questions why Todd’s wondering over the blue mutant’s shoulders at all and Todd yanks his thoughts back to the desk in front of him before all he has a mental traffic accident on his hands.

Todd rubs absent circles against Kurt’s back as he doodles on the desk. The blue mutant melts under the attention, sighing after a moment and flattening even further. Todd bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, eyes dropping to the swirling tags he’s doodling over the chipped particleboard. He abandons a tag in the lower-left corner when he notices the sharp point of a spaded tail wending its way between the letters. As if summoned, a narrow, warm band slithers to rest around Todd’s ankle and Todd freezes before registering it’s the blue mutant’s tail, draping lax against him. 

Kurt had ported Kitty over on Sunday afternoon, then hung around because Todd wasn’t doing anything and neither of them could figure out an excuse to give for not chilling with their alleged boyfriend. They’d ended up on the roof, side by side watching the clouds go by, practicing casually touching each other, bumping arms, throwing legs over one another, holding hands, so they wouldn’t look like recluses who’d been shut away from human touch for thirty years whenever they had to play their roles in public.

Over the course of this method acting session, Kurt’s tail found its way around Todd’s ankle, to the blue mutant’s embarrassment and Todd’s smirking glee. When the furball relaxed, his tail tended to go where it pleased and had a habit of finding the nearest warm limb and wrapping itself around it like a particularly friendly garter snake. A behavior which Todd had gotten multiple demonstrations of this week as they tested eating together at the Brotherhood table and once at the X-Geek table, dragging Kitty and Lance with them, to the peppy girl’s delight and Lance’s gruff resignation. 

Tabby revelled in this abrupt change in seating. She and Todd spent the entire hour riffing off one another, dragging in any X-Geek who showed the slightest interest into their chaos, roasting the shit out of any of the ones who gave them a stank look or passive aggressive attempt to tone them down. Halfway through the lunch period, Kurt had swung back to the Brotherhood table to call Freddy, Wanda and Pietro over. Kitty, Tabby and Rogue retrieved the reluctant trio when they dragged their feet. Todd almost fell off the bench when it was Jean who scooted over and asked Freddy to sit next to her, knocking the incredulous looks off some of the fussier X-Geek’s faces like snow off a windshield. Freddy accepted the spot with that shy southern politeness that he showed every lady over the age of fifty on their block, tucking in his elbows as he sat down. Then Jean asked him a question about their psychology class and the table’s momentum carried on.

The conversations all melded after that, the easier chatterers taking over when awkward moments popped up. Todd noticed Kurt talking with Lance, casually leaning into the other boy’s space and grinning like the taller mutant sat with them every day. Lance’s shoulders had crept down from his ears, and at one point he gave the blue mutant the playful loose fisted shoulder punch he pulled with the other Brotherhood kids when they did something he found funny but didn’t want to own up to laughing at. When Lance caught his eye over Kurt’s head and nodded to him, Todd felt an ease slide over him that usually only came during late-night movie marathons when all the Brotherhood sprawled out over the living room floor under the cool glow of the TV.

In the staticky light of the classroom TV, Todd’s eyes drift back to Kurt’s sleeping face, shadows clinging to the sharp curves of his cheek bones, the hollow of his brows. His full lips are parted, breath a soft rasp just shy of a snore. Something warm and liquid cracks open in Todd’s chest, washing through him like a tide. He fights the urge to put his head down right next to Kurt’s, to study that shadowed face from eye level as the blue boy’s eyelids flicker in dreams. He can feel the gentle thump of the blue mutant’s heartbeat under his palm, the sensation lulling paired with the drone of the documentary on the screen and the faint stuffiness of forty bodies huddled in their desks in the closed classroom. Todd’s thoughts slow down, drifting from idea to idea without sticking, window shopping in his mind.

He’s mellow enough by the time the documentary ends with a rolling instrumental that he jerks at the bray of the trumpets over the credits. He shakes his head and blinks away the fluff that’s wrapped around him. Todd gives Kurt a gentle shake, tugging the blue mutant’s shoulder a bit. Kurt follows his hand before his eyes fully open. He blinks slowly at Todd, then flinches as the lights come on.

“You good, bright eyes?” Todd asks, and Kurt snorts around a yawn he covers with a hand.

“Mmm, did I miss anything interesting?” Kurt asks, slouching with his chin on one hand as looks at Todd with heavy lidded eyes.

“Couldn’t tell you, I spent the viewing in other pursuits.” Todd says, tapping the desk with the tip of his pencil.

Kurt glances down to admire Todd’s handiwork with a low hum.

“They should commission you, you really improve the dullness of the particle board.” He says, fingers ghosting over the biggest tag on the desk, smirking as he makes out ‘be gay, do crimes’ in the spikes and swirls of letters. 

“Flattery gets you everywhere, fuzz.” Todd says, a warm balloon swelling in his chest, bursting into butterflies that skim down his arms.

“Seriously.” Kurt says, “You’re good.” 

Todd nudges Kurt’s shoulder with his own, tucking his chin to hide a smile. Kurt nudges him right back, grinning.

“You’re half asleep.” He says. 

Kurt nods, “That makes the compliment more honest, not less. Dreamers don’t have the brains to lie well.” 

Todd hides his smile in his shoulder as the bell rings and sends everyone shuffling through the things and up and out the door. Kurt gives his shoulder a squeeze as he ducks down to get his back, murmuring a quiet “thank you” that sends a pleasant shiver down Todd’s neck. Todd waves him off with one raised finger, but the blue mutant laughs at him. 

They part in the hallway, muttering plans to see each other at lunch. Todd gets halfway down the hall before he caves and glances back in the blue mutant’s direction. The blue mutant’s eyes meet his where he’s looking back, halfway to his next class. Kurt raises his hand in a wave, smile still soft on the edges with sleep. Todd puts the brakes on the thought train clamoring to understand why that soft smile makes his heart pound.

Chapter Text

"Go up and grab the clothes you want to wear. Just hide them in your backpack and say we're going to eat after and I told you to bring it. They don't need to know you're gonna change." Kurt says after taking one look at the way Todd’s standing like his clothes are made of plaster when the blue mutant shows up at the Brotherhood’s front door on Sunday.

“It’s cool dawg, you don’t need to take me with you.” Todd says, shifting his feet in an old pair of loafers Pietro’d forced him into. He fights the urge to tug on the slightly too short sleeves of the brown blazer he’s wearing. 

The Brotherhood boys had heard Kurt was taking Todd with him to church and jumped on the opportunity to play dress-up. Freddy’s intentions were genuine, Lance’s sincere with just a hint of sarcasm, but Pietro clearly took this as an opportunity for comedy, stuffing Todd in a pair of slacks with a pale green button-up and a brown corduroy blazer that looked like it could have been a couch in another life. Lance showed him how to polish leather shoes with the loafers, and Todd didn’t have the heart to tell him he’d learned that years ago from an old queen who was into boot blacking back in the city. On anyone else, it would look decent, but on Todd, it looked like someone had mismatched a stack of paper doll clothes on a child’s stick drawing. 

Kurt’s hand on his elbow stops him from immediately leaping up to the roof and retreating to his room to sulk, the guise of a date be damned. The blue mutant is wearing a purple button-up patterned with bright green scrolling leaves and the cleanest pair of jeans Todd’s ever seen in his life. His inducer is off and the deep blue of his fur against his loudass shirt makes him look like a psychedelic painting. 

"You're not comfortable in that. I don't want you to wear something that makes you miserable." Kurt says, then he leans closer, dropping his voice, “Plus the mass we’re going to will be more suited to your usual style.” 

Todd gives him a disbelieving look, eyes sweeping over Kurt’s technicolor, crisp existence, but the blue mutant only winks at him, tipping his chin up to gesture Todd back inside. The amphibious mutant’s too curious about where this is going to say no. 

“Gimme five minutes.” Todd says and Kurt grins, wide and easy at him.

 Kurt follows Todd out into the yard when the amphibious mutant decides to skip getting grilled and just jump through his window. The blue mutant makes himself at home up into the gnarled oak that butts up against Todd’s window to wait. Todd freezes when he slips through his window to find Tabby waiting on his bed, flipping through the pages of one of his pinup magazines. His backpack’s sitting next to her like she expected him. 

At lunch Thursday, Tabby had suggested blue take Todd with him to Sunday mass, that laughing look in her eyes that she got right before she won a game of speed. Kurt had been sprawled out between her and Todd, his head close enough to the amphibious mutant’s thigh that his long indigo waves flowed over Todd’s leg like a spray of seafoam. He hadn’t perked up much since their history class, but snorted and shot Tabby a sharp look. Then his eyes had found Todd’s face and the amphibious mutant squirmed as Kurt’s irritation softened into something like caring, a hand coming up to rest on the amphibious mutant’s knee. He hesitated, muttering something about Todd thinking it’s boring that Tabby immediately mowed over. 

“I think he’ll find the experience enlightening, blue.” She’d said. “Give him a chance to get to know another side of you.” 

Todd had absently tugged a wavy lock of indigo hair, “If you want me around that is.” 

Something shifted in Kurt’s face, and one three-fingered hand had reached up to cup Todd’s chin, “It’s if you’ll want to stick around with me that’s the question.” 

“Fuck’s sake. Just take Todd. He’s a big boy who can fuck off if he gets bored.” Tabby said, ending the exchange as she slumped back against the tree they were lounging beneath.

Tabby hardly glances up from a picture of a guy named Blake whose caption insists his glistening muscles came from long weekends playing soccer with the boys as she pushes the bag towards Todd. 

“Packed for you already.” She says, Todd reaches for the bag, fully intending to peek, but Tabby grunts and snatches it back, cutting her eyes towards Todd with a knowing look. 

Todd sulks, then sighs and holds up his hands, “Fine. I won’t look.” 

Tabby smiles and tosses him the backpack, “Good boy.” Todd tries to ignore the flush of heat that creeps over his ears and neck at her tone.

“We ain’t going to church are we?” He asks. 

“Oh, you’re going to church.” Tabby says, refusing to elaborate. 

Todd hovers in his room, giving Tabby a flat look. She keeps flipping through the magazine, humming in appreciation when she gets to Jackson, a supposed swimmer who enjoys walking dogs at the local shelter. When Todd still doesn’t leave, she gives him a look like it’s her room he’s trespassing in. 

“You have a threesome with your boyfriend and Jesus Toddles, don’t keep them waiting.” Tabby says. 

Todd snorts, “Way to layer in the blasphemy, Booms, hit two religions in one.” 

Tabby grins and blows him a kiss. Todd darts forward to get another one, skin to skin, and Tabby obliges, lips soft and tasting like her bubblegum chapstick. She pushes him away before he can slide the kiss to something faster, deeper, familiar to them both. 

“Go pour sugar on our blueberry.” She says and Todd ignores the giddy fluttering in his chest at the phrasing, squeaking out an awkward “yeah” as he jumps back out the window, backpack slung over one shoulder.

Kurt’s sprawled over one of the oaks’ thickest branches, amusing himself by blowing on the massive web of a garden spider that’s made her home in the branches above him. His head’s lolled over the side of the tree limb, tail absently flicking over the other edge. 

“I’m gone five minutes and you’re out here torturing Charlotte?” Todd asks. 

Kurt rolls his head to glance over at Todd, “I need to have something for confessional.” 

“What, ‘lying about being in a gay relationship’ doesn’t get you enough naughty points with the priest?” Todd asks as they leap down from the tree and start walking.

“I think you mean hail marys,” Kurt says, “And yes, I suppose there’s plenty for confession in our current activities.” 

The blue mutant stops short about a block after they’ve rounded the corner from the Brotherhood home and Todd nearly trips trying not to run into him. Kurt holds out a hand in what Todd has started thinking of as his ‘your chariot awaits’ pose.

“What, don’t wanna be seen with me?” Todd asks, only half joking.

If he hears the little fear tucked between the words, he doesn’t comment on it. He gives Todd the smile the amphibious mutant’s only seen in the rare moments the two team up for a prank, a sharp curve of mischief and conspiracy. 

“I have a spot you can drop off your bag before we head to church. People get a bit shifty if you walk in with a backpack.” Kurt says. Todd shrugs and takes his hand. Kurt tugs him just a little bit closer, but they’re off in a flash before Todd’s heart has a chance to go thumping in his chest. 

Kurt’s spot is apparently a massive, ancient tree trunk in the middle of the park. Todd notices there’s already a bag tucked away and gives the blue mutant a suspicious look, but Kurt only smiles and shrugs. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back soon, and not many people can get up here anyhow.” He says.

Todd rolls his eyes, his muttering about how he wasn’t worried anyway drowned out by a flash and the sudden thunderous pop of heat around them. Porting with an open mouth feels like inhaling the smoke from burned-out birthday candles and Todd doubles over hacking as they appear a block away from the old cathedral across town. Kurt’s hand rubs his back as he mutters apologies. Todd gives him the finger and the blue mutant laughs at him. 

“Well come on, I don’t wanna miss the line for the cracker of god.” Todd says. 

“Technically, it’s the flesh of Christ.” Kurt says.

“Dawg, you continue to say increasingly kinky shit for insisting you're not.” Todd says as they amble towards the church. 

Kurt smirks at him, the glow of his eyes slanting in Todd’s direction without turning his head. “I never insisted I wasn’t, only that your estimations of how are incorrect.” 

Then he’s pulling open the massive wooden door of the church before Todd’s brain can unjumble the twelve-car pileup that sentence becomes in his brain. Kurt guides Todd inside with a hand at the small of his back as the amphibious mutant squints against the contrast of dim candlelight from sunny late morning. The place is gaudy, all marble and gold inlay, though compared to some of the churches in the oldest Catholic neighborhoods back in the city, the paintings of saints rolling their eyes to heaven are downright restrained in their limited use of gold leaf. 

They’re standing in some kind of entryway, the doors into the main part of the church are closed. The muffled sound of an organ and an old reedy voice reciting something that’s probably about how that fun thing you did Thursday night will definitely lead to you burning in hell and made Jesus sad drifts through the gap between the heavy wood panels. 

Kurt turns away from the main chamber without a second glance, instead wandering into a smaller side room absolutely decked out in candles that looks like a stage for that phantom movie Wanda likes so much. Todd nearly sticks to the ceiling when he catches sight of an old lady dressed all in black tucked in the corner of the room. A squeak leaves him despite his best effort. Kurt shoots him an amused glance, lips curling in a way that implies only the press of his fangs against them is keeping him from laughing aloud. 

Todd cracks his knuckles to avoid giving the blue mutant the finger, afraid the old lady might swing from her hidey-hole and start swatting him with a ruler. Kurt’s smile turns more ‘polite young man who always washes behind his ears' as he gives the woman a nod, which she returns as if she’s on strings. Her eyes slide to Todd and he feels like she’s able to read every questionable thing he’s ever done on him like he’s a phonebook, from robbing someone to turning his underwear inside out and wearing it again. Todd swallows and hurries after Kurt while trying to look like he isn’t running away. 

Kurt tucks a few folded bills into a slot in one of the wooden alcoves in the room. Todd hadn’t thought to bring cash here. He shoots Kurt a panicked look, but the blue mutant raises one hand and smiles with a small shake of his head. Todd relaxes, taking that to mean he’s fine. Kurt proceeds to light one of the unlit candles, bowing his head for long enough that Todd’s eyes wander to look up at the copper inlay on the ceiling above them, wondering if it’s really metal or if it’s spray-painted plastic. He’s debating risking the old lady opening a portal directly to hell by asking her about it when Kurt lifts his head back up, touches the fingers of one hand together and does the “head, chest, tiddy, tiddy” thing Catholics do.

He turns back to Todd and tips his head towards the door, already moving in that direction. Todd follows like a balloon on a string, baffled. Kurt nods towards the old woman, who once again nods back before staring at Todd with her brimstone eyes. Todd clumsily nods at her and apparently, that’s the right choice because the fires of hell in the lady’s face dim a bit and she gives him a nod too. Then Kurt is pushing open the door to the church and they’re blinking and stumbling back out into the sunshine. 

They’re a block away before Todd’s brain catches up to his body and he manages to stutter out, “What happened to going to church, dawg?” 

Kurt turns back to him, holding his hand out once again with a wink, “We went to church. Now we go out.” 

Turns out the second bag stuffed in the tree trunk is in fact Kurt’s. The blue mutant doesn’t offer much explanation just wanders them over to one of as the weird little cottages the park disguises its bathrooms as to change. 

Todd finally yanks open his backpack and hisses as he catches sight of what Tabby’s packed for him. He can’t imagine where the fuck he and the blue mutant are going. His heart thumps against his ribs and he’s debating whether keeping on the horrible Death of A Salesman costume might be better. A quiet curse sounds from the stall beside him.

“What’s a matter, dawg, drop your tail in the can?” Todd asks, shaking Kurt from his anxious stare down with the outfit Tabby shoved in his backpack and made him swear not to peek at. 

“No, but thank you for putting things in perspective.” Kurt says, and there’s a thump against the shared stall wall.

“S’wrong then?” Todd asks, something soft creeping into his voice that makes Kurt’s stomach twist, caught between reflexive bracing for a trap and a new budding urge to lean into that unexpected tenderness, see how deep it goes. 

“Tabby. Might have picked out my clothes.” Kurt says. 

Todd laughs from the other side of the wall, “Man, you too? I can’t tell if this is attempted sabotage or a saving grace.” 

“With Tabby? Potentially both intentions at once.” Kurt says, thumb rubbing over the faded screen printing of the teal crop top sitting at the top of his bag. “Strike a deal? I’ll wear mine if you promise not to hold it against me, und vice versa.” 

He hears a wet sucking sound from the other stall, and can imagine Todd making that face he does when he sucks his teeth, like he’s a farmer trying to figure out how to get his wayward cow out of a mud pit she’s wandered into. 

“Fuck it. But don’t blame me if you get mad.” Todd says. 

“What, did she leave you a g-string and glitter?” Kurt asks, stripping out of his church clothes “I’d hate if we were matching, it’s so tacky.” 

Todd gives a startled laugh and curses. There’s a stumbling thud with the rustle of fabric and the stall walls shake. “Fuzz, you can’t talk that way when a man’s halfway out of his pants.” 

“When is the time to mention a g-string, if not when a man is half troused?” He says, voice muffling as he tugs on his shirt. 

“Troused is not a word in English, dawg, and I doubt it’s one in German or whatever other fucking languages you speak either.” Todd says. 

“You doubt, but you don’t know.” Kurt says, “And Sinte, mainly.” 

“Cindy who?” Todd asks, and there’s the swinging bang of the stall door opening beside Kurt’s. 

“Sinte Romani, it’s the language we speak.” Kurt says, hand braced on the stall door. “Remember, we are not accountable for today’s stylistic choices.” 

“Come on, I’m dying to see how the fuck you wear a G-string with a tail in the way, yo. Do you hang it out over the top, or is it poking through the sides?” Todd says, but Kurt hears a ringing note of anxiety beneath the nonchalance as he steps out from the stall and catches sight of Todd leaning against the sink. 

Kurt forgets the half-formed comeback on his tongue at the sight of the amphibious mutant. Todd’s wearing a white shirt that’s had the neckline cut out of it, exposing dappled collar bones. The bubbly black text on the shirt is obscured beneath a faded black denim vest decorated with riotous scrawls of paint in red and white threaded with gold, in a style Kurt recognizes from Todd’s desk. The amphibious mutant’s wearing his usual sneakers and leather cuffs, and Kurt’s eyes latch onto those little blips of familiarity in an attempt to avoid the torn, bleach spattered, red jeans that cling so tightly to Todd’s legs the blue mutant’s not surprised he fell over getting into them. Why Todd doesn't dress like this all the time is beyond Kurt. Though if he did, he's not sure how much he'd be feigning interest in this relationship game after a week of long sweeping peaks at Todd's neck and glimpses of dappled thighs from beneath frayed denim.

Todd shifts his grip on the bathroom sink and Kurt realizes he’s been staring. An apology or an excuse dies on his lips when he catches the other mutant’s expression. The shorter mutant’s staring at Kurt like he didn’t notice the blue teen’s open gaping. He looks at Kurt like he's a painting that he’s trying to piece apart, catch all the little brush strokes that make him up. Kurt shuffles self-consciously, resisting the urge to cross his arms over his chest or pull the clips out of his hair and hide the long points of his too big ears, cover the parts where his hair’s trimmed down to match his fur length so he doesn’t sweat to death. 

“What’s your shirt say?” He asks, both curious and desperate to get out from under those amber and red marbled eyes. Todd blinks at him, like Kurt’s pulled him out of a book before that familiar filthy grin twists the corners of his lips. 

He tips his head back and Kurt gets distracted by the way his markings fade out leaving a pale green strip down the center of his neck. Todd jerks open his vest like a chippendale’s dancer with a triumphant “Ta-Da!” startling a laugh from the blue mutant. Then Kurt's brain takes in the bubble letters cheerfully declaring, “ Beat Me, Bite Me, Whip Me, Fuck Me like the dirty pig that I am, Cum all over my tits and tell me that you Love Me then get the fuck out! ” and he breaks into bewildered laughter, his backpack slipping off one shoulder as he buckles forward. 

“Where did you get that?” He asks, swallowing to keep from drooling in his mirth. 

“You know that dingy ass thrift shop on the far side of town? The one that takes all the shit the goodwill church ladies freak out about that’s run by that granny with the blue eyebrows?” Todd says. 

Kurt hoots, unbuckling one of the clasps on his paint-splattered, rainbow overalls to reveal his own shirt, letting the still hooked strap slip off one shoulder to show Todd. “ Power Bottoms For Jesus ” is emblazoned in thick block letters across the faded teal of his crop top. 

“We shop the same stores.” he says, as Todd takes his turn to crack up. “Actually wait, you know that record pizza shop with the old arcade games?”

“Yeah, the one with the velvet titty posters on the wall where the manager is stoned as shit all the time and plays 70’s acid rock?” Todd asks.

“Want to get lunch?” Kurt says. Todd’s already reaching for his hand before he finishes the question. 

Kurt drops them right in front of the store, scaring the shit out of a scruffy little rat dog that looks like someone ripped half the hair off a furby that's hanging out on the balcony of the apartment building neighboring the store. 

“We’ve disrupted the local wildlife.” Todd says and Kurt snorts, waving at the dog like it’s a neighborhood watchman. 

“Pepperoncini is just like that, alter wichser will probably bark himself into a heart attack one day.” Kurt says, holding the door open for Todd.

Todd glances back at him as he walks inside, “Someone named that ugly fucker Pepperoncini?” 

“Her name’s Francesca, she’s a former school teacher turned motorcycle instructor after divorcing her shitty husband once her kids moved out. Has knuckle tattoos that read ‘Sweetheart’ on them.” Says Cher behind the counter.  She’s one of the clerks Todd’s seen around a lot, a design school student over at Bayville Community College, her hair’s gone from a pale mint to a deep purple since Todd last saw her. 

“You’ve met her too?” Kurt asks, grinning at the freckled brown woman, who smiles easily like obvious teenage mutants dressed like they rolled around in a gay club’s lost and found come in the record store all the time, which, wouldn’t be totally surprising for this place.   

“She comes in during my Wednesday night shifts.” Then her eyes flick between the two mutants, “Though you two don’t usually overlap.” 

Todd and Kurt glance at each other and shrug, Todd jerks a thumb at Kurt, “He took me to see Jesus this morning.” 

Cher’s eyes flick down to Kurt’s shirt, still visible under his half unbuckled overalls, “I bet. You both want your usuals?” 

Kurt stutters out a flustered yes as he scrambles to refasten his overalls, tail slapping Todd when the shorter mutant cackles. The blue mutant pulls out his wallet, but Todd waves him off.

“You stuck cash in the weird candle hole for us both. I got this.” Todd says, and Kurt frowns at him, ears tipping back. 

“I eat a lot.” He says, tail swishing behind him. 

“You want to use your balance from last time?” Cher asks and Todd nods at her. 

“I fix shit around here and they pay me in junk, under the table cash, and food.” Todd says when he catches Kurt’s curious look. 

“What he means is he keeps Mo from burning this place down by actually repairing the speaker system and games instead of attacking everything with superglue and 6 volt batteries.” Cher says as she disappears into the kitchen.

"Thank you." Kurt says, shuffling his backpack up higher on his shoulder to cover his fretting over Todd paying for his meal. That's a thing for real dates. Kurt always makes the first move to pay for those, his summer work with the circus giving him a salary most teens don't have.

“So, the clothes yours, dawg, or Tabby dressing you from someone else’s closet?” Todd asks, waving a hand at Kurt's thank you like it's a gift of socks on his birthday.

They wander over to the wooden islands stuffed with records, CDs and cassettes in the center of the store. Todd’s steps bounce with the beat of the music, sneakers squeaking a bit on the faded checkered linoleum. There’s a heavy bass drifting from the speakers, a rich voice rapidly spitting lines too fast in English for Kurt to process.

“Oh ja, the ‘Power Bottoms for Jesus’ shirt is definitely borrowed from Scott.” Kurt says, shooting Todd a bland as he flips through one of the CD bins for something to keep his hands busy.

Todd squeaks out a hysterical giggle and Kurt ignores the little thrill of pleasure that runs up his spine at the sound. 

"What's with the Gap light look in school then?" Todd asks.

"What's with the plain t-shirt and old jeans background actor outfits?" Kurt shoots back, more acidic than he means to be. He winces but Todd smirks at him.

"There's that mean streak I love so dearly, sugarpuss." Todd says, and Kurt bites his lip to stifle the snort that comes out of him at the nickname, fearing any encouragement will feed the gleeful fire that fuels this absurdity in the amphibious mutant. Todd's squidgy attempt at what Kurt assumes is a wink tells him he's been caught out anyway.

 "And I'm already stuck wasting eight hours a day five days a week in that cinder block, I'm not wasting my good clothes there too." Todd says. 

"These are your special occasion ripped jeans?" Kurt asks, smirking at the other boy.

"Of course, note the artful use of bleach. These are my good church jeans and fuck me shirt." Todd says. Kurt chokes, the jewel case in his hand clattering out of his fingers back onto the bin in front of him. 

“And how successful a fuck me shirt is that?” Kurt asks, glancing at Todd from the corner of his eye.

“How successful is yours?” Todd shoots back and Kurt laughs.

“You know, I haven’t done an exit poll to find out.” Kurt says, then Cher is calling them back over to the counter for their order.

“Totally should, on a scale of 1 to 10, was it the Power Bottoms or the Jesus part of the shirt that did it for you?” Todd says as they grab their trays and make for one of the four dingy booths decked out with glittery purple vinyl seats and tables covered in customer graffiti. Kurt takes Todd’s tray and stacks it with his in the return spot over the trash as soon as the amphibious mutant slides his paper plates off. 

“You’re the guy who always puts the shopping carts back where they go.” Todd says, eyeing him. 

Kurt grins, “I’m also the guy who rides the cart down the aisle, and occasionally crashes it into that giant rubber ball cage they have in the store.” 

“That was you??” Todd says, remembering last spring when he’d been trying to pinch some electronics to fix shit around the Brotherhood house and a flood of tie dye beach balls anywhere from grapefruit to yoga ball sized came bouncing down the aisle he was on. The underpaid employee who’d been stocking the aisle he needed shit on had sighed and wandered in the direction of the devastation, giving Todd the opportunity he needed to stuff everything under his foil lined coat. 

Kurt takes a bite of pineapple and bacon pizza, grinning widely around it. “It might have been, at some point.” 

“You hooligan.” Todd whispers, leaning forward. Or attempts to whisper around a mouthful of his own pizza slice. Kurt notices Todd has three slices too, the pieces as long and half as wide as his forearm and he feels some of his self-consciousness abide. 

Kurt ducks his head and shrugs, “In my defense, the floor of that store slopes and I picked up speed faster than I expected. Also, I highly recommend crashing into a cage full of beach balls if you ever get a chance. Very bouncy, 10 out of 10.” 

“I prefer my balls cage-free.” Todd says and Kurt chokes on his pizza, the bite slipping down his throat but cheese strings keeping it attached to the slice. He glares at Todd as he gags and twists the cheese-free with a finger. 

“How very ethical of you.” Kurt chokes out, gulping from his drink in an attempt to clear the lump from his throat. 

“I am a man of solid principles.” Todd says, taking a drink with his pinky raised as he affects an air of refined dignity. 

"And electrical safety codes." Kurt says, considering Cher's earlier comments, Todd's shoulders stiffen, then he shrugs plucking one of the paint pens the place keeps in an old tomato can on the table up and busying himself scribbling on a faded patch of the formica tabletop near his elbow.

"Was an accident the first time. Ms. Pacman over there was fucking up and I got annoyed. Old guy caught me with my head in the game's guts after I finagled it open with a penknife. Pulled out a toolbox from behind the register instead of throwing me out and gave me a large and some wings when I was done." Todd says. "Everyone here is pretty cool, so I kept coming back. He started hooking me up with some other folks in the area. The laundromat a couple blocks down. Ice cream place, the junkyard, that one apartment building that looks like someone patched a bunch of brick walls together."

Kurt blinks at the amphibious mutant, realizing he never considered what he did, outside of playing mad scientist with Forge, giving teachers heartburn, and annoying the shit out of him. Though really, Todd had been annoying Kurt less and less since that day at Amanda's house, bloody noses and bruised ribs between then tapering off to shoulder checks and snide insults. Kurt's eyes watch Todd scrawl over the table with flowing precise lines, like he can see the final image there in invisible ink and is only breathing it into being. A little twinge of envy pinches in his chest.

"Clever hands." He says, and those amber eyes find his, wide and startled. Todd's ears go a strange salmon color, he's biting his lip in a way where Kurt can't tell if he's pleased or about to laugh at him. Kurt's fur fluffs up as he replays his comment.

"I mean, you can do a lot with them." He says, and this time Todd does laugh, rocking back against the booth bench and tossing his head back. Kurt hides his face in his hands, a hysterical giggle slipping past his lips. 

"Way to save that one, fuzz, definitely don't feel like I'm at a sleazy dive bar." Todd says, and Kurt kicks him under the table. 

"What's the weirdest thing you've fixed?" Kurt asks, because he needs to move the conversation to a place where he's less likely to keep swallowing his own feet.

Todd smirks at him, like he knows exactly what Kurt's thinking but he let's him have this. 

"You know that kiddie complex place, like five blocks over? The one that looks like it's probably a front for the mob?" Todd asks. The memory of a squat windowless brick building with a haunted looking mascot that might be a bee or Martian painted on the side comes to mind and Kurt nods.

"Well they have a creepy robot band that plays in the cafe, like imagine someone cursed a bunch of sports mascots to shimmy and swing around plastic musical instruments." Todd says, "Apparently, the owner is a cousin of one of the guys Mo bowls with on Tuesdays, and the singer monster broke down in the band. Mo asks me one day and I figure why the fuck not? Maybe I can reprogram it to play death metal or some shit." 

"You did not." Kurt says, but he's leaning forward unable to keep the grin off his face.

Todd shakes his head, "Those things were fucking cursed, dawg. I took one look at them and wanted outta there, but dude was willing to drop a couple hundred cash for me to get the fucking murder hornet or whatever it was running again." 

"What are they like on the inside?" Kurt asks, "do they look like a skeleton?"

"Oh yeah, they're made from human bones man." Todd says and smirks when Kurt kicks him again, sometimes the blue mutant wishes he wore shoes just so his kicks stung more.

"Nah, they look fucking bizarre under there, like someone put googly eyes on one of those metal clothing racks and hooked it up to a lawnmower engine with a bike chain." Todd says finishing the last of his pizza as he adds a flourish to whatever he's drawn on the table.

“Want to walk around a while?” Kurt asks, because he’s finished eating too, but realizes he doesn’t want to stop hanging out with Todd just yet. 

Todd looks at him and shrugs, “Sure, dawg. I can move my meetings back.” 

Kurt snorts as they shove their trash in the garbage bin before blinking their way into the afternoon sunlight. “I appreciate the generosity with your precious time.” 

Todd gives him a little bow in acknowledgment, “Wanna go see if that junk shop has any of those taxidermies that look like a serial killer’s pet project?”

“I think you mean their pet, which honestly I wouldn’t doubt.” Kurt says shuddering as he remembers a bizarre splicing of some kind of lizard and a squirrel Rogue had chased him around that shop with once, “But, yes.”

Todd gives him a crooked grin and turns in that direction, like he trusts Kurt to follow him without looking back. The thought makes something warm hum through his veins and he has to remind himself that this is a game and them getting along isn’t the same thing as a real date. They wile away the afternoon roaming the mismatched little shops crammed up against each other in the neighborhood. The junkshop has no taxidermied nightmares, but does have a bizarre enamel jewelry box with a worn telegram to “Eliza” and what appeared to be a ring set with a human molar tucked inside it. That sparks a debate on whether or not the tooth was Eliza’s, her lover’s, or her no good husband who mysteriously fell off a ladder that the pair keep dropping and coming back to all afternoon, coming up with increasingly gruesome or outlandish ways that Eliza found herself a widow as the one line telegram implied. They wander into an eerily clean store, the inside so out of touch with the other’s Kurt wonders briefly if they’d stumbled through a portal, but leave quickly when something about the antiseptic air makes Todd’s eyes water. 

They window shop, each hopping up to stick to windows as they point out clothes or furniture, or bizarre artwork they insist the other needs. Kurt keeps most of his suggestions outlandish, including a couch that looks more like a massive foam version of children’s blocks than a comfortable lounging space, a sex shop where one of the mannequins has been dressed in an iridescent rainbow wrestler’s leotard, some kind of leather unicorn hood, and an pool innertube shaped like a swan that someone’s stuck a ballgag on, and a massive, floor-length purple fur coat that honestly looks like someone skinned one of the animatronics Todd repaired. But he means it when he points out a worn leather moto jacket in a brown so rich it’s almost burgundy, a vintage draftsman table that he thinks Todd and Forge would both find useful, and doesn’t say anything when the deep green and gold leather chest harness one of the other mannequins is wearing gives him that funny flipping feeling in his stomach when a small voice notices how that green would complement the swirling marks on Todd’s skin.

Todd’s recommendations are so scattershot that Kurt can’t tell if he’s also mixing in sincere choices with insincere ones. He points out a hanging chair that’s shaped like an egg and lined with a patchwork cushion that’s bright colors have faded with sun, a leopard print Victorian looking fainting couch, a deep indigo velvet suit jacket embroidered with golden constellations that has crimson satel lapels, the fuschia wide-leg pinstripe trousers with suspenders, and a sequined silver and red showgirl outfit that’s in the same display window as the unicorn wrestler. Todd goes quiet when they pause at the window with the green harness. When he purposefully yanks his own gaze away from the mannequin reclining in green, Kurt notices Todd’s eyes catch on the other mannequin wearing a full-body harness in a bright red. He goads Todd into a debate about what kind of party the showgirl and unicorn are going to and the conversation picks back up as they amble down the sidewalk again. 

The shadows stretch long with late afternoon by the time they by a couple pretzels from a tiny shop on the corner and sit on the curb to eat. The water isn’t the same here, so they don’t taste like home, but they’re pretty good. The incoming fall can be felt in the coolness of the shade, but the pavement still holds heat from the dregs of summer sun. They both sit back on their elbows, shoulder to shoulder.

“Why say you’re going to church if you’re out fucking around all day?” Todd asks around a mouth full of pretzel.

“God’s existence isn’t restricted to stuffy old buildings and dead languages.” Kurt says, “And I don’t exist too well in confined spaces either. I think they would forgive me for taking liberties on a day of worship, especially since I still do it in the name of the divine.” 

He feels the urge to shrink on himself with the admission. The tightness that comes sometimes during the school year, from being in the mansion with curfews and chore charts and danger room drills. The circus has rehearsals and everyone has their responsibilities to keep things running and everyone fed, but somehow the walls don’t feel so tight, he doesn’t feel so watched for a misspoken word or an unpressed shirt. Todd’s foot bumps against his shin, marbled eyes catching Kurt’s and the blue mutant lets out a breath, sinking back into the now, the gum marred sidewalk and Todd’s bare arm cool against his. 

Todd rips an arm off his pretzel, his fingers smeared with garlic butter and parmesan from it. He holds it out to Kurt, who blinks at him. 

“Breaking bread, right?” Todd says. Kurt’s heart stutters in his chest at the quiet attention in Todd’s eyes, his head tilted in a way so he looks up at Kurt through honey brown lashes. That wide mouth curls in a smile that makes Kurt’s thoughts twist to places he shuts away until they come creeping out late at night on the edge of dreaming. 

He rips off a branch of his own pretzel, salt with vinegar, and holds it out to Todd, who quirks an eyebrow at him like he suspects Kurt having some ulterior motive of fairness or pity rather than genuine desire.

“Sharing is two sided.” Kurt says, Todd rolls his eyes but takes the piece.

“Thanks Mr. Rogers.” He says.

They finish in a comfortable silence that settles over them, letting the trilling cries of the cicadas and the rumbling hum and muffled music of the occasional passing car fill the space between them.

Kurt catches sight of his inducer and curses as he tosses the waxed paper their pretzels came in into a nearby trash can. Todd had forgotten the thing actually had a watch in it and wondered why he’d been wearing it without bothering to use the hologram all day. 

“Time for us to head back?” Todd asks, already shouldering his bag and standing. 

The blue mutant winces, and Todd ignores the warmth that blooms in his stomach from how Kurt actually looks regretful about parting, “It’s like six, dude. I’m pushing it, even for a Sunday.” 

Todd blinks and gives a low whistle, “Shit, didn’t realize it was that late.” 

“Me neither.” Kurt says, giving him a crooked little smile that drops as he looks Todd up and down and then frowns at his own clothes. “Shit we still need to change.” 

Todd gives the other mutant a dubious look, but grabs his arm and tugs him back into the pretzel shop, giving the guy behind the counter a wave as he tugs Kurt into the little bathroom.

“He’s so gonna think we’re fucking in here.” Kurt says as he locks the door behind him. Todd chucks his vest at the blue mutant’s face, sulking when he catches it before it lands. 

“Stripping is involved.” Todd says, “And guarantee this floor is less sus than those park bathrooms.” 

Kurt grunts, and starts changing too. Todd’s eyes study the corner of the ceiling when the blue mutant drops his overalls without hesitation. But then he almost trips out of his jeans and remembers why he wears them so rarely, Tabby’s opinion on the favors they do his ass be damned. A three-fingered hand catches his elbow and keeps him from falling on his face. Todd shoots Kurt a thankful look and feels his ears burn at the little smirk on those blue lips.

“Won’t they wonder why we’ve been out so long anyway?” Todd asks.

Kurt shrugs as he does his green and paisley shirt back up, Todd notices his buttons are snaps. “Sure, but it’s easy to make it seem like we lost track of time getting lunch after, and no one questions what I get up to when I wear clothes this neat. Learned that trick from Scott.”

Todd doesn’t bother sliding the blazer back on, holding it over his shoulder with two fingers hooked in the collar as they make their way back out to the street. As they come out of the bathroom, the Pretzel guy scrambles to clean the counter, working a rag in the most precise circles Todd’s ever seen. He catches the guy rubbernecking at them as they step out the door and Kurt mouths “Told you so” to him. 

“So, what else do you do on Sundays?” Todd asks as they turn into one of the narrow alleys to port them home.

Kurt mutters something too low for the other mutant to hear and Todd gives him a look.

“Do you wanna run that by me again, blue, or should I make an elaborate extrapolation about visits to teenage sex dungeons?” Todd asks.

“I don’t think teenage sex dungeons are a thing.” Kurt says and Todd just gives him a flat look until he cracks and repeats himself.

“I sometimes explore old abandoned places in the area… it’s cool to see what moves in once people move out.” Kurt says. “I’ve taken Tabby a couple of times, but there are places that are hard for her to get to, and she gets bored after an hour or so.” 

This time Todd doesn’t wait for the blue mutant to hold out his hand, sticking out his own palm up in a mirror of Kurt’s gesture. “That shit sounds pretty cool. Used to do something like it with the old factories back in the city.” 

“Ja?” Kurt asks, taking Todd’s hand slowly like he half expects the other boy to snatch it back. 

“Yeah. We should go some time. If you like seeing what places look like when the people all go.” Todd says, then flounders, realizing he’s basically offered to show Kurt Brooklyn. 

But Kurt’s grin, bright and easy across his face knocks any half-baked caveat off his tongue. “That would be really cool.” 

“Cool. Now come on choirboy. Get me home before the mother superiors catch us.” Todd says. 

Kurt laughs, shaking his head, but obliges.

Chapter Text

"How long are you two gonna bullshit everyone?" Forge asks about two weeks into their relationship fake-out, late one drowsy Saturday afternoon.

Todd nearly scorches the workbench with the torch he's holding, his eyes skittering up to look at the mechanical mutant, who's sitting at the lab computer, one leg tossed over the duct-taped and scratched arm of the busted office chair he's sprawled in. He wiggles a grease pen between his fingertips, the pane of glass covered with equations that he'd rigged up into a whiteboard momentarily forgotten. 

"Vas?" Kurt asks, head poking out from the rainbow patchwork hammock he'd rigged up in the corner of the lab, high near the ceiling, one blue hand dangling the paperback he’s reading over the side as he looks their way. 

"I mean, I guess I don't care how long, but more why?" Forge asks.

Todd shoots Kurt a frantic glance, but the blue mutant looks just as caught out staring back with wide gold eyes.

"Before you even try, I think me and maybe Tabby are the only ones who are sure you're bullshitting. Everyone else hasn't spent enough time with the both of you to be sure if you're both faking, or if one of you is just going along with a weird fucking crush." Forge says. 

Todd shrugs, "Got drunk together in the park and thought it'd be funny." 

"If everyone thinks we're dating, maybe the others will be less weird about Tabby and Amara, and Kitty and Lance would be less stressed." Kurt adds, "Also Kitty apparently thought we hooked up last year. Are you gonna give us up?" 

“She thought what?” Todd says, but Forge’s response drowns him out.

"Fuck no man, this is hilarious." Forge says, "but as someone who's made out with both of you, I can tell you two have barely fucking held hands my dudes." 

Kurt swivels to look at Todd, tail popping up from the hammock in surprise. 

"You and Forge too?" He asks.

Todd smirks, sticking out the tip of his tongue, "Forge says you didn't mind if he named names." 

Kurt opens his mouth like he wants to argue, but his shoulders drop and he seems to smile in spite himself. 

"Where you going with this, Dr. Free Love?" Todd asks. 

"I'm so glad you asked, the amazing atomic frog." Forge says, "If you wanna keep this charade running, you need to build body trust with each other."

Todd and Kurt share a dubious look.

"Is this your way of asking us into a threesome?" Kurt asks. 

"No, but yes." Forge says cryptically, kicking his chair over to the false electrical panel he hides his stash in. Forge pops it open and roots around, flicking through several unlabeled baggies that Todd struggles to tell the difference between before finding what he's looking for. 

Todd shoots Kurt a look with just a tinge of alarm running underneath it, Forge, despite having no particular interest in the carnal sides of sensuality, is still an absurd enough hippie that him having them all strip naked and roll around together in body oil in the name of higher vibrations or whatever the fuck doesn’t feel out of the realm of possibility. Kurt stares back at him from over the edge of the hammock, looking for all the world like he’s wandered into someone else’s dinner party, but found the situation funny enough that he’s going to see where it goes. Todd gives him a very much not sulking look, but Kurt puts on an exaggerated pout and mimes rubbing his eyes with his fists. Todd gives him the finger and gets a laugh in return. Over at his stash, Forge makes a little noise of triumph that pulls their attention. He’s brandishing one of the baggies in the air like it’s a gold medal.

"You have made out with me when we're both stuck and pissed off trying to get a prototype to work, and when we're stoned in that free flow space of ideas." Forge says, pointing at Todd, who nods.

Forge swivels to point up at Kurt, who is now leaning halfway out of the hammock, chin resting on his forearms against the edge. 

"You and me, fuzzy man, have lip-locked on lazy afternoons when we're both craving that spiritual connection and restless days when everything else is boring." Forge says. 

"True." Kurt agrees. 

"Spiritual connection." Todd mouths and Kurt chucks a pillow at him. 

The mechanical mutant nods, rolling a thick joint with quick practiced fingers, the actions smooth despite nearly two decades of interruption. 

"See that's what I'm getting at." Forge says, "I know your wavelengths and you both know mine, but you haven't found each other's. You gotta pick up each other's vibrations, or this bird isn't gonna fly, and really, I wanna see what bullshit you two pull when you're lifting each other up not dragging each other down." 

Forge catches the hesitant looks the two other mutants give him and frowns in that way he does when he and Todd keep missing each other's explanations of a new schematic. Kurt's tail is doing tight anxious circles like he might port any second. Todd eyes the exit, considering if he can leap the table without breaking anything. 

"You two are pretending to be in that caught up new love place where the world is all glitter. If you're holding hands and giving each other pet names and kisses on the cheek for pretend, what's a makeout sesh? If you can platonically make out with me, you can frenemy make out with each other for the sake of the ruse." Forge says, standing up and ambling to the middle of the room.

"Besides, I will not abandon you on this journey. We will start off in familiar woods before you venture into new realms together." Forge says, holding up the finished blunt, "and this, will be our guiding light." 

Todd's leg is jumping, but Forge has a point. He shoots a quick anxious glance to Kurt, who seems to have hit the same conclusion. The blue mutant sighs, flopping back into the hammock, vanishing in the swath of fabric making it swing. He throws his hands in the air, book doing a little flip with them before dropping down on his face.

"Fine, but you're shotgunning me." He says. 

Forge hooks Todd by the elbow and drags him over to the hammock, Todd goes without complaint, though his ears burn and butterflies whirl in his stomach. 

“I shotgun you the first time, but chaos frogger here has way bigger mouth capacity, he hits you the second time.” Forge says. 

“Do I get a say in this?” Todd asks, dragging his heels a bit and sulking at Forge.

“Do I?” Kurt echoes, peering down at them over the edge of the hammock, ears flicked back and tail lashing like a cornered cat.

Forge sighs, he stops tugging Todd’s arm, but keeps his hand on the amphibious mutant’s elbow, calloused thumb absently rubbing circles on the soft skin of Todd’s inner arm. He reaches up and hooks a hand over the edge of the hammock, making grabby motions until Kurt slides his hand into Forge’s. 

“Of course you get a say. But do you not want this, or just not want to look like you want this?” He asks. 

Todd grimaces, Forge’s words pinning him to the floor like a bullseye. He hears Kurt give that heavy put upon sigh like he’s a Victorian heroine besieged by unwanted guests. The blue mutant tips his head to look at them both. 

“Am I going down, or you both coming up?” Kurt asks. 

“Damn fuzz, skipping a few steps if we’re going from locking lips to downstairs trips.” Todd says.

“We’re coming up.” Forge says over him, giving Todd a shove.

Kurt rolls his eyes at Todd, but doesn’t take the bait, scooting over to make room for the other two mutants, offering a bracing hand to each of them as they flounder a bit when the hammock swings beneath them. They nearly go all the way over at one point, but Kurt kicks out a leg against the wall, keeping the hammock from somersaulting. Todd holds back a pissy sigh over nearly being taken out by an aerial beach towel when he can leap off skyscrapers no problem.

It’s roomier than Todd expected, though their combined weight still sends them slumping into each other, Todd and Kurt both press in on either side of Forge. The mutant mechanic brandishes a lighter with the air of ritual, passing the joint to Todd to pull from as he lights it. 

“To shared vibrations, my dudes.” He says.

Todd rolls his eyes, coughing a laugh with his inhale, but he still raises the joint in a toast as he passes it. Forge inhales but holds it, turning to Kurt, who presses his lips to Forge’s in an open-mouthed kiss. A wisp of smoke escapes the gap between them. The shotgun turns into something slower. The two pull back, Forge taking a hit and blowing a lazy ring in the air as Kurt plants small kisses along the smooth brown skin of the teen’s jaw. The mechanic passes Todd the joint before letting his hand drop to the amphibious mutant’s knee, fingers playing with dappled green skin poking out through the tears in his jeans. The light brush of those calloused fingers makes Todd’s bare toes curl. He draws a long, slow inhale from the joint, watching the other two boys press into one another.

Forge’s lips quirk up in a smile as he brushes his face against the blue mutant’s. Their lips find one another in a closed mouth kiss, barely touching at first, before Kurt sighs into the touch, parting his lips and pressing a slow and deliberate kiss to Forge’s. They go back and forth like that, each kiss a caress. Forge’s free hand slides into Kurt’s hair, Kurt’s hands run their way up Forge’s shoulders, stopping at the low v-neck of the shaggy-haired mutant’s shirt, thumbs stroking along his collar bones. 

They move like they have all the time in the world, sliding against each other like the tide on the shore. Todd feels heat run down his back and pool in his belly, warm and heavy at the sight of them. A sigh slips past his lips and two pairs of eyes, brown and gold turn to watch him from heavy lids. Kurt looks at Todd like he’s drinking him in, the way people stop to stare at those big stained glass windows on old cathedrals, the way Todd pauses in front of a particularly inspired street tag, the ones that are riots of color the words twisting in on themselves in a web so fine you almost miss them. Forge smiles at Todd like he’s letting him in on a joke, the little triumphant grin he gets when whatever heap they’re fiddling with whirs to life. 

Todd sways forward and Forge meets him halfway. If Forge and Kurt were a steady tide, he and Todd are a waterfall dropping into swirling eddies. Todd reaches up to cup the mechanic’s face, mindful of the lit joint between his fingers. A three-fingered hand plucks it from his grasp and Todd tangles his fingers in long black hair. The hand on his knee slides up to cup the back of his neck. Forge’s teeth find Todd’s lip as the amphibious mutant licks his way into the other boy’s mouth. Todd grins before biting back, a short hard nip followed by a long swipe of his tongue. Forge jerks in that little way Todd’s learned is a yes, giving a sweet high gasp before pushing into Todd with fire. The hand on his neck kneads the skin there, pulling him in as full lips are replaced with eager biting teeth. A moan slips from Todd’s mouth and the biting turns to soft deep kisses and soothing swipes of a small flat tongue. Todd’s fingers twist in Forge’s hair. Forge gives that husky little laugh in the back of his throat that makes the hair on Todd’s neck prickle.

There’s a soft gasp over Forge’s shoulder and Todd glances over to see Kurt reclining back in the hammock, one leg hanging over the side the tip of his tail flicking as he watches the other two mutants as if they’ll vanish the second he looks away.

Todd gives him the same filthy grin he turns on Tabby when her eyes glint at him in the low light of the Brotherhood living room, all combustion and mischief. Kurt jerks forward just a bit, his eyes trained on Todd’s face and shoulders, shifting as if he’s hunting the amphibious mutant. Like a big cat dropping down into tall grass. Todd holds out a hand.

“C’mere Blue, let’s try that second shotgun.” He says.

Kurt flows over to him, one long sinuous flex of his body. Todd plucks the joint back from him, inhaling deeply, filling his mouth with acrid sweet smoke before passing it to Forge, who nearly dumps them all out of the hammock when he stretches to smudge out the half-spent blunt on a nearby shelf. 

Kurt braces a hand on the ceiling and saves them once again from the mortification of death by lounge furniture. Todd wonders how the blue teen became an expert hammock wrangler. He nearly swallows the smoke in his mouth and shoots Forge a tight-lipped glare. Forge just laughs at him. Then a broad blue palm presses to Todd’s cheek and a plush mouth closes over his and he forgets to be annoyed. 

Kurt gasps softly as he inhales the smoke from Todd’s mouth, a sound that makes waves of heat radiate across Todd’s skin from where the blue mutant’s palm presses to his cheek. Their lips press together not quite right the first time, less a kiss and more a mushing of mouths. Then Kurt pulls back and tips his head a bit. Todd catches a blurry glimpse of gold eyes watching him under dark lashes as that soft blue mouth barely brushes his, teasing. The hand on his cheek shifts to his hair. Kurt ghosts another feather-light kiss over Todd’s lips, then another, mouth open, a hint of those sharp fangs grazing his lower lip. He keeps his eyes on Todd’s, a dare in them. The same look that’s thrown over the blue mutant’s shoulder after the third time Todd’s flung a spitball at long dark hair in class. The same look Todd caught in team fights, right as Nightcrawler flipped up and over him, slamming him to the ground as he bounced off Todd’s back armor and leapt away. The look that said ‘Fuck around and find out’, the look of ‘catch me if you can.’ 

The hand in Todd’s hair tugs, goading Todd into bucking him, into rushing forward as those lips dart in and pull back, pressing a little deeper each time. Kurt’s other hand slides a long, burning line along Todd’s thigh, trailing up his side to stop at his waist, just under his ribs. That flat, pink tongue licks into Todd’s mouth. Todd snaps, surging forward at the hot sweet feeling of that strange, small tongue brushing against his own. It’s different from the texture he's used to, not rough, but bumpier somehow. His hands fly up from Kurt’s legs, one tangling in the blue mutant’s hair the other fisting in the collar of his shirt, reeling him in. Kurt laughs into the kiss, sound breaking off into a wet gasp as Todd licks into that teasing mouth. Kurt’s grace fails him he half scrambles, is half-dragged by Todd over Forge’s lap. Todd absently catches the mechanic laughing and gives him the finger with the hand in Kurt’s hair. The blue mutant either doesn’t care or notice Forge’s mirth at his urgency. 

Kurt breaks the kiss, pulling back against Todd’s grip. Todd’s caught between snarling at the change and panic that he’s fucked up somehow, but the hand in his hair tugs his head to the side and that full mouth is pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses down his jaw driving out any thought outside the hot, pleasant hum of those lips sucking a trail along his skin. Kurt bites a sucking kiss into the underside of Todd’s jaw, and Todd’s entire body lights up. He keens and Kurt actually fucking growls in response, mouth opening wider and the hard points of his fangs pressing against Todd’s neck. Todd groans, hands fisting in the back of Kurt’s shirt. Then he’s tumbling back, sending the hammock swinging as Kurt pushes him down into it. 

Todd jerks and shivers as Kurt makes his way down one side of Todd’s neck and up the other, shifting between biting, sucking kisses, and barely brushing Todd’s skin with those teeth, with the ghost of his lips. He moves like he’s trying to find what makes Todd the loudest, what makes him shiver the most. Todd runs his nails in hard lines down the blue mutant’s back and Kurt arcs down against him with a moan, stalling in his melting of Todd’s brain via the Dracula treatment. Todd seizes the opportunity and rolls them. The hammock swings and Forge woops on the other end of it, but Kurt’s looking up at him with swollen lips and a challenge in his eyes and Todd doesn’t think he’d stop even if the hammock flips them to the floor. 

“My turn.” He snarls, close enough his breath ghosts over the blue mutant’s lips. 

Kurt surges up to meet him and moans when Todd’s tongue licks into his mouth, twisting to press against the sharp tips of those fangs, that small rough tongue. He runs his nails along the blue mutant’s scalp and grins into the kiss at the shivering whine that earns him. Todd pulls Kurt’s head to the side, kissing his way along that sharp jaw, uncaring about whether or not he’ll get fur in his mouth. He nips at the lobe of one pointed ear and Kurt shudders beneath him, broad three-fingered hands sweeping up and down Todd’s back. Todd swipes his tongue up the shell of Kurt's ear and the other mutant keens, bucking up into Todd, his arms tightening around him. Todd grins and does it again, ghosting a breath over Kurt's ear in the process. Kurt whines and twists his head back and forth, hands scrambling at Todd's back. 

Todd scoots up so his lips are right against the blue mutant's ear. The friction of that motion makes them both shudder. Todd would be embarrassed about the whine he makes if not for Kurt's open-mouthed moan and the way the blue mutant locks his legs around Todd's. Todd licks and kisses Kurt's ears, switching back and forth as the blue mutant turns his head. Kurt seems to all but come apart beneath him. The strong hands roaming Todd's back and shoulders drift lower. Todd's head falls back in a moan when those three-fingered hands grip his ass like a lifeline. He grinds down into Kurt without thinking and the blue mutant growls into the wet open-mouthed kisses he presses into Todd's jaw. Kurt tips them so they're pressed side by side in the hammock and Todd's both disappointed and relieved as his weight no longer grinds them into each other so intensely.

Todd's lips find the blue mutant's again and time vanishes into the little gaps between them. The world blurs away to the burning heavy press of Kurt's body against his, the waves of pleasure his hands send crashing through Todd in their roaming caresses, the low growls, and high keening gasps Kurt makes into Todd's mouth in response to the amphibious mutant's own question hands. At some point the urgency clutching them crests and breaks, their hands slowing to somewhere between a caress and an embrace. Their kisses shift to unhurried, lingering things. 

Awareness of the room around them drifts back, and Todd realizes the hammock is swinging gently. Kurt must notice too, because he breaks their kiss to sit up and glance in Forge's direction. If the mechanic feels put out about his companions utterly forgetting him to play tonsil hockey, he doesn't show it. Forge has turned in the hammock to swing his legs over the side, kicking off the wall lightly with one foot. He's reading Kurt's book from earlier with one hand, the other is rustling around in a bag of spicy plantain chips. He swallows a bite and glances their way.

"How's your vibrational alignment?" Forge asks.

Kurt tips his head to look at Todd, quirking an eyebrow with a crooked grin Todd can’t help but return. The blue mutant's hand runs over Todd’s back in slow sweeping strokes. 

“Pretty sure we reached a harmony.” Todd says, stomach fluttering when he feels Kurt’s tail squeeze his ankle. 

“Jawohl,” He says holding the hand not around Todd out to Forge, “Wanna snuggle?” 

“Of course you’re a fucking snuggler.” Todd says, but still helps the mechanic settle down on his other side. The folds of the hammock manage to engulf them all even crammed together side by side, though it takes some maneuvering. They end up curled on the sides, Forge becoming Todd’s little spoon as Kurt stretches out along Todd’s back.

“Oh, fuzz goes beyond snuggling man, he’s a sucker for belly rubs.” Forge says, “Passes out in like five minutes.” 

Kurt’s tail unwinds from Todd’s leg to slap Forge’s thigh, flicking to hit Todd as well when the amphibious mutant snickers, “You say it like you’re any better.” 

“Aw, does blueberry roll over for tummy scritches?” Todd asks, squealing when Kurt blows in his ear. 

“Don’t knock what you haven’t tried.” Kurt says, and Todd scrunches his toes to keep from shivering at the blue mutant’s breath ghosting in his ear. Forge squeezes the hand Todd has resting on his belly, and Todd can imagine the mechanic’s knowing smirk. He pokes Forge in the side, but the other mutant is unphased, huffing a laugh. 

“Fine, then try me, blue.” Todd says, and Kurt stills behind him.

“Vas?” He asks and Todd tips his head back to peer at the other mutant from the corner of his eye. 

“Gimme belly rubs.” He says, putting as much gravity into the sentence as he can. It works and Kurt giggles, but he scoots closer, one warm, broad hand slipping under the hem of Todd’s shirt.

Todd tenses a second, panicking at the reality of what he’s asked for, but Forge tugs on his hand, saving his brain from dissolving into an absolute tire fire. 

“Share the love, dude.” He says and Todd snorts. 

“And whose belly you rubbing, freelove?” Todd asks but slips his hand to rub the soft swell of Forge’s belly anyway. The mechanic is a cozy heat lamp against Todd’s front in comparison to Kurt’s steady campfire warmth at his back, still soothing but cool enough that Todd doesn’t feel overwhelmed pressed between the two of them.

“Sometimes receiving care without focus on transactionality is our responsibility,” Forge asks, and Todd feels Kurt laugh behind him, the hand on his stomach making broad, slow strokes. 

Kurt gives some answer to Forge, but Todd tunes them out, letting himself drift in the pleasant tingling looseness in his limbs that comes from time spent trading kisses with little hurry for anywhere else to be. The hammock sways around them just a bit and Todd lets himself slump against the other two teens nestled against him, only focus on the sounds of their shared breath, the warmth of Forge’s skin under his palm and the trailing heat of Kurt’s hand on his stomach. His thoughts start to loosen, taken on that half-finished quality they get when sleep creeps in around the edge of his mind. The last thought he fully lands on is a muddled consideration that it’s been more than five minutes before that train quietly drifts away too.

Todd slips back into awareness sandwiched between two warm weights, something rubbing soft soothing circles against his bare stomach. He snorts accidentally, breath stuttering over the transition between sleep and wakefulness as he blinks his eyes open. His face is buried in Forge’s shoulder. The mechanic is curled up on his side breathing deeply, back pressed to Todd’s front. Todd’s arm is draped across the other mutant’s stomach and he can feel Forge’s hand curled loosely around his, the fabric of his shirt sandwiched between them. 

Todd tips his head up a small bit and a pair of gold eyes meet his, alight with laughter, but fonder than the harsh mocking glint from the past, whenever Kurt successfully knocked Todd from whatever height they were grappling on. Todd’s eyes catch on the cover of the book from earlier, now held above their heads by Kurt’s tail. Three glistening people with shirts barely doing their jobs are tangled together on the cover, as if an ocean wave has just knocked them together. A pirate ship drifts on the water beyond them, and Todd can catch the word “Pleasure” in a font that looks like a whisper peeking out from under the line of Kurt’s tail.

“Still doubt the power of belly rubs?” He asks, keeping his voice low. Todd feels the caresses pause as thick fingers drum pointedly against his stomach with the blue mutant’s words. Context flows back to him and he remembers the warm slide of Kurt’s hand slipping up his shirt. A flood of flustered heat rushes over his face again.

Kurt catches the embarrassment in Todd’s face and starts to pull back, an apology already forming in the worried purse of his lips. Todd rolls his eyes and huffs, scrunching up to pin the blue mutant’s hand between him and Forge. Forge gives a little sigh and both mutants stop. Todd feels something brush against he and Forge’s hands and realizes Kurt’s other arm is stretched beneath both their heads, wrapped around to stroke the mechanic’s shoulder and chest. 

Todd cranes his neck to look Kurt in the face, tilting it at an angle that always makes Pietro gag and squirm like someone’s dumped water in his ears. Kurt looks at Todd like he’s uncertain if the amphibious mutant will shove him out of the hammock. His head tips down so he’s giving Todd sad puppy eyes through his lashes. Todd’s lips twitch with the urge to kiss that look off his face, but the surreal haze of earlier has passed, there’s no audience to perform for and that kiss would mean so many things he isn’t ready to unpack.

“Further evidence required.” Todd says and Kurt blinks wide eyes at him before biting back a laugh, his shoulders hitch. Todd keeps eye contact as he unsquishes himself from Forge, allowing the blue mutant’s tail space to move. Kurt doesn’t pull away this time, going back to rubbing soft circles against the tender skin of Todd’s stomach. Todd gives him a smirk and drops his head back down with a sigh. He drifts off again to the sound of pages turning and the soft breathing of the two mutants crowded up against him.

Later, Forge gives them both knowing looks when they all stumble stretching and bleary-eyed from the hammock, but Todd can’t find it in himself to be annoyed at the guy for reveling in being right. 

Sometimes, you need to align your vibrations.

Chapter Text

“We caught ourselves a frog, boys.” Duncan says as Todd hits the sticky linoleum of the hallway floor.  The other two football players, the only ones who’ve kept up with Duncan’s past time of shoving smaller kids, particularly the ‘unfavorites’ like Todd, into lockers, hoot behind him. One snatches up the hall pass Todd dropped and hurls it down the hallway.

Todd blames the cold snap slowing him down for missing Duncan and his clowns sneaking up on him when he slipped out of History class to catch a smoke break. He’s cut back since Kurt started giving him sad glowing puppy eyes every time he lit up, but Finch was being a real assbag today and his skin was crawling with ants listening to the bastard go on. Kurt actually looked envious instead of scolding when the amphibious mutant grabbed the bathroom pass and ducked out the door. Todd hadn’t considered Duncan might be roaming around, but apparently football douches had free range for a drill period or some shit. 

Duncan hauls Todd up by the volleyball net he threw over the shorter boy, obnoxious Ken doll face twisted in a sneer. Todd matches the look with a red eyed glare, feeling the tension coil in his legs and the bitter sticky swell of spit in his throat. They’ve twisted the net around his legs tight. He could break loose, but risks garroting his own knees on the net in the process, or less concerningly, breaking one of the three dickheads’ limbs if he nicks them. 

“Looks like we caught you out without a hall pass, Toadlansky.” The doofus who chucked the ancient ruler Finch uses for the bathroom pass says. Todd’s eyes flick to the ceiling as he debates whether spitting in the jackass’s eyes is worth the blowback. Mystique made it clear when she got ousted as principal that the Brotherhood had to keep a lower profile, because “anything those little snot-nosed human brats do to you will be child's play compared to the consequences if I need to mop up your mess.”

Imagining the douche canoe getting his hands stuck to his face trying to claw his eyes free nearly feels worth the terror of whatever Clive Barker monstrosity the boss might shift into when she gets the call about Todd. But he doesn’t want the other Brotherhood kids to have to up and move because of him and a tiny part of him ties in knots at the thought of saying goodbye to a significantly friendlier blue face. So he sucks in a deep breath and tries not to gag at the way their shitty body spray makes his nose burn.

Todd’s strength and control have gotten better over the last couple years, and he’s gotten better at avoiding Duncan and his crew too. It helps that he’s been on borderline friendly terms with a couple of the wrestling team guys since sophomore year and some of the dance troupe since last year after offering pointers to each team that helped them hit semi-finals in some competition. 

He’d been razzing them when he was hiding up in the rafters of the gym smoking one day, but the then varsity wrestling captain, Blake, had started taking his chatter seriously after one of the guys won his skirmish after listening to Todd. The day he’d done the same thing with the dance team, the drill captain, Jessica, had snapped at him to prove he could do better, so he’d jumped down and done just that. She started asking his opinion on choreography and music choices, and Todd had entertainment when skipping gym. Friends in athletic places did not completely dissuade Duncan from his beloved pastime of being a pain in Todd’s ass though, and when Todd let his guard down, he still got nabbed from time to time. Even a few bloody noses from a knee to the face wasn’t enough to completely end these hunts. 

Duncan tosses Todd to the other two boys like he’s an overstuffed rucksack and Todd grunts when they shake him by the biceps. He feels the itch for a cigarette like fire under his skin and has to keep swallowing as the salt-bitter taste of his gluey spit gives way to the sharp tang of his more acidic variety. He debates drooling all over the assholes and the net wrapped around him, but figures that’s probably under Mystique’s “high profile” category.

He belches then sighs, deliberately blowing what he knows is a rank breath into the face of the guy on his left. If he can get one of them to loosen their grip, even for a second, he can probably wriggle loose and make a run for it without busting anybody’s ribs. The dude snarls and squeezes his harm hard enough he feels his elbow pop. 

“C’mon Dunc, don’t you three have a field you need to stomp flat with that weird little crab walk your coach makes you do?” Todd asks, “Surely we all have better uses of our time this morning?” 

Duncan’s answer is a fist to the gut. Todd clenches and curls back just before it lands, and the blow hurts, but doesn’t wind him as much as it could. He still gags and lets a spray of spittle fall all over the three stooge’s fancy varsity jackets. They squawk and swipe away the spit, hissing as it stings. It’s not strong enough to melt the leather or burn their skin, but the jackets will end up dry and brittle and they’ll have a nasty little rash tomorrow. Todd ducks his chin to hide his smirk, using their panic to kick a bit at the net, loosening it around his legs. 

“Stop him.” Duncan barks, and the mooks latch onto him tight again before he can make much progress. A familiar pissy sigh comes from behind Duncan and Todd’s stomach flips. 

“You should be more careful with this thing. We lose this hallpass and Finch will never let any of us piss again.” Kurt says as Duncan turns around to glare at the shorter boy for daring to interrupt his interruption of Todd’s morning smoke break. 

Kurt’s twirling the ruler in his hand, looking straight past Duncan to stare at Todd as if the other three are merely tacky hallway decor.

“Sorry Wagnerd, I musta dropped it on my way to the powder room.” Todd says with a crooked grin. 

“What the fuck do you want, mutie freak?” Duncan asks, staring at Kurt like if he keeps trying to burn a hole in the blue mutant’s face with his mind, Kurt might spare the quarterback a glance. Todd catches a little flicker of amusement in Kurt’s eyes, hidden behind a mask of irritation and knows the furball realizes exactly how much Duncan hates being ignored.

“Finch sent me to retrieve your delinquent ass since it’s been more than ten minutes since you went to piss, and here I find you shirking your academic duties to play games.” Kurt says, shaking his head at Todd like he’s a wayward child caught scribbling on the walls. 

Todd shrugs as much as he can, using the motion to shimmy the net down a bit as the two jocks’ grip slackens at this unplanned interruption, “Who am I to deny some old friends a game of patticake?” 

“Fuck off Toadboy, we’re not friends.” Says the second mook, speaking for the first time since this whole affair began. 

Todd turns to look at him, wide eyed and open mouthed. “After everything we’ve been through, lunk head? You’re breaking my heart here, dawg.” 

The guy snarls, his grip twisting on Todd’s arm in a way that’s gonna leave a burn. Todd covers his wince with a sneer, bearing his teeth at the larger boy. Duncan turns back to him and Todd tenses.

“Gentleman, that hooligan is my responsibility. I’ll be taking him back now, thank you.” Kurt says, and Duncan stops. 

“Fuck off hell-twink, or I’ll make send you crying to your little boyfriend Summers so I can beat his ass too.” Duncan says and Kurt sighs.

“Oh come on, I think I’m built enough to be disqualified from twink status.” He says, tapping his leg idly with the ancient ruler.

“Twink is a state of mind, Wagnerd, pretty sure you count. But Dunky, what late night image searches are you making that put ‘twink’ in your vocabulary?” Todd asks like he isn’t hanging between two lunkheads filled with the malicious drive to smear him across the hallway linoleum.

“Fuck off you little shitstain.” Duncan growls, lunging for Todd as the other two boys squeeze his arms and shoulders tight enough that Todd’s not getting away without dislocating something. Before Todd can shoot his tongue out, fuck Mystique’s scary consequences, Duncan trips, cantering in a fumbling run as he tries not to fall flat on his face. As Duncan stumbles,  Todd catches Kurt quietly shifting his outstretched foot and tail back into a position of assumed innocence.

Duncan catches himself in an awkward crouch, arms raised up in what looks like a constipated Donkey Kong impression. He snarls, whirling on Kurt. The shorter boy stares back at him, tail flicking slightly like he’s facing a leashed dog with a bad attitude and not a shitty quarterback with a God complex and no adult supervision. 

“Don’t think I can’t take you, devil boy, just because you’re all were-demoned out.” Duncan says raising his fists. Todd catches the way Kurt’s expression closes off at the insult, the loose amused look flickering before coming back, as fake as his holosuit. 

Kurt gives a smile that’s all fangs, the devil Duncan so clearly wants him to be, sketching a shallow bow, arm across his chest, “What hope could a humble twink have against a hulking belligerent dummkopf?” 

Duncan lunges for Kurt and Todd nearly snaps the net, slices from the rough nylon cord be damned. But the blue mutant catches Todd’s eye and winks, twisting to the side. Duncan shoots right past him, stumbling as he nearly hits the wall in the narrow hallway. Kurt clicks his tongue raising a hand to his face and tilting his head in mock concern. Todd catches the shift in the blue mutant’s feet, the way his shoulders roll back like he’s preparing for another strike. 

The quarterback bites off a scream. Todd’s impressed that he’s even thought to be quiet at all as he continues his rampage through the main hallway. He lunges again for Kurt and the blue mutant swerves again, chirping “Toro!”

“I’m gonna tie that tail of yours in fucking knots, you alien.” Duncan snarls, but then there’s a shout behind him and they all freeze.

“I saw you try to hit him!” A high, panicked voice says down the hallway and their heads all turn at once. Todd recognizes one of the sophomore girls from the dance team, Cameron.  A tall, chubby girl covered in freckles, who Todd’s pretty sure Jessica is eyeing for the junior captain position. Cameron’s face is red enough her freckles nearly disappear, but her shoulders are set in that kind of terrifying “attention” position all the dance team girls take that makes them look like glittery amazons. 

“I saw you try to hit Kurt. A--and you’re holding Todd in a net of all things!” She says, putting her hands on her hips. 

“He put himself in the net.” Duncan says. Todd bites his cheek to keep from laughing when Kurt meets his eyes from where he’s still braced for Duncan to charge again, tilting his head and mouthing ‘What?’ with a smile. Over Todd’s head, the two dinguses still pinning him in the net snicker.

“Dude, that was a bad lie.” Says goon one. 

Duncan turns back to them with a snarl and Todd rocks as both boys recoil from their team captain. Their grip on him loosens and he seizes his shot to break free without breaking anyone’s bones today. Todd drops his weight, knocking himself free from their grasp with a twist, cursing when the stupid fucking net catches on his elbows and feet. Kurt ducks around Duncan to help Todd loose, tugging him back by the elbow as they put themselves between the football players and Cameron. Todd really wouldn’t put it past the jackass to threaten a girl who barely reaches his shoulders. The way Cameron tilts her head back to glare at the older boy Todd doubts she’ll run away just because the jackass snaps at her. Todd makes a note to tell Jessica the girl definitely has the guts to lead drills. 

The two mooks however, no longer look so keen for a fight, shifting their weight awkwardly under Cameron’s accusing stare. They share a glance and one of them drops his end of the net and the other follows suit. 

“C’mon Dunc, this is boring.” Mook one says as mook two chimes in “Yeah, coach is gonna be missing us.” 

Duncan glares at them, face red and shoulders tight, like a kid about to explode because his mom won’t buy him the limited edition laser ranger with real kicking motions. But the other two shuffle a step down the hallway and he gives a huffing snarl, shoving his way past them to stomp off.

“Hurry up you jackasses, we’re late.” He calls behind him and the pair scurry after him, leaving the net behind. 

Cameron blows out a massive sigh slumping from her power stance like someone’s let all the air out of her. “Oh thank God they left. Holy shit.” Her eyes snap up to the two older teens and she bites her lip. “Oh please don’t tell on me that I swore. Or that I yelled at the football guys.” 

Todd laughs then winces as it makes his abused stomach muscles twinge and Kurt looks him over with that fretting hen expression on his face. He squeezes Todd’s arm and Todd rolls his eyes and half-heartedly swats at the tail fussily sweeping over him, probing for injuries. 

“He got one shot in my gut but I braced for it.” He says, giving Kurt a lopsided smile when the worry in the blue mutant’s face doesn’t wane, “Got spit all over them when he hit me though.” 

Kurt snickers, but Todd can tell it’s more for his benefit than genuine amusement, “Good luck to them getting that off.” 

“Uhm, what should we do with the net?” Cameron asks and the two mutants turn to look at her where she’s standing with it half bunched in her arms. 

“I think Coach Whatsername is in her office around this time.” Todd says, “We could just take it back to her, say we ran into it in the hall.” 

“Coach Butler?” Cameron chirps, blushing when Todd nods and the amphibious mutant remembers the way a lot of the dance girls fall into whispers and hushed giggles whenever the lean woman and her volleyball team share the gym for warm ups “Oh, yeah. I think she has a free period now.”

“She might write us a hall pass if we return it.” Kurt says smiling at Todd. Cameron yelps, drawing the pair's attention, her sneakers squeaking on the linoleum as she tries to fold the net up and ends up tangling her arms through the holes. “Hang on, let us help you.” 

It takes them another five minutes to wrestle the net into a bundle that doesn’t immediately unravel itself and Kurt hoists it over his shoulder before Cameron or Todd can argue. 

“It’s not too heavy?” Cameron asks and Kurt snorts.

“Do I really look like such a string bean?" he asks, but his smile is more exasperated than offended.

“You always walk around in clothes two sizes too big, dawg, can’t blame everyone for thinking you'd blow away in a strong wind." Todd says, bumping his arm against Kurt's and wincing when he knocks the fresh bruise growing there. Kurt gives him a concerned look and Todd scowls at him sticking out his tongue. 

"Maybe that's better, the fangs and eyes freak people out enough as it is." Kurt says, ears flicking back, and Todd feels a stab of guilt for encouraging the other mutant to drop his inducer. 

Cameron snorts ahead of them where she's leading their little parade down the empty hallway. 

"Who exactly is afraid of a blue muppet that knows all the words to Barbie Girl?" Cameron asks, spinning to walk backwards down the hall and stare at them and Todd barks out a laugh.

Kurt tips his head back, flipping his hair out of his face, unrepentant, "Technically I only know Barbie's words. Kitty sings Ken's part." 

"Life in plastic, fuzz?" Todd asks.

"It's fantastic." Kurt replies, shrugging.

"Jazzy and I saw you doing DDR to it in the arcade wearing a shirt that said 'Bimbo' in Barbie font." Cameron leans forward to whisper the word 'Bimbo' as if it will summon an assistant principal to scold them all back to class if said too loud. “You can do the routine on both pads at once, that image is burned in my brain and you will never be scary.”

"You borrowed Tabby's shirt? Do you even know what a Bimbo is?" Todd says, shooting Kurt a disbelieving look.

Kurt tips his head and looks at Todd with wide eyes, "Rogue says it's a bread brand in the south. Also no, we got matching ones." But he holds the innocent look a beat too long and Todd sees the laughter hiding underneath and shoves him. 

"See, no ones scared of a beanpole muppet bimbo." Todd says and Cameron swings around to point at him.

"No one's scared of a guy who knows the entire choreography and words to Janet Jackson's Nasty either." She says. 

"Okay, but that's actually cool though." Kurt says.

"Nasty is a classic, Cam-a-Lam, my condolences for your lack of taste." Todd says as they all round the corner to the gym hall. 

"It's totally mom music." Cameron whines as they reach the doorway of Coach Butler's office. 

The woman leans back in her office chair to peer at them through the doorway, "What's mom music, Trotsky? And what are you three doing wandering the halls in the middle of third period with my volleyball net?" 

Cameron flushes red again, stuttering, "We came to return the net, ma'am." 

"Janet Jackson is apparently mom music, coach and thus unworthy of the reverence she deserves." Todd chirps as Kurt places the rolled up net on the bench Butler waves him over to. 

"Who knew, guess I'm a mom now." The coach says smiling, waving Cameron off before the girl can combust trying to take back her words, "Now, how might you have gotten ahold of this net from the locked supply closet?" 

Todd shrugs, "We tripped over it on the way to the bathroom back in the main hallway." 

"It wouldn't happen to be locked in the same closet as the football gear would it?" Kurt asks, dusting off his hands. He gives Cameron and Todd a flat look when they both turn to him with wide eyes. 

Butler makes a noise in the back of her throat, sticking her tongue in her cheek as she raps her desk with her pen. She looks down at her desk before making eye contact with each of them, Todd twitches under her stare. She blows out a sigh and sits up.

"Funny you should say that. Looks like I have a reason to get that separate supply cupboard I've been asking for. Any of you kids need ice after tripping over that net?" She asks, going along with Todd’s story.

"Yes." Kurt says at the same time Todd snaps out a quick no. The two glare at each other and Todd hears Cameron make that nervous little titter again. 

"You banged your arms pretty hard on that trip, didn't you? Pretty sure the net hit you in the stomach when you fell over it too." Kurt says, and Todd feels his face flush. 

Butler sighs and kicks her desk chair over to the mini fridge in the corner of her office, popping the door open and plucking a pair of ice packs from the freezer. She turns and waves Todd over with a flick of her fingers. 

"Mind rolling up your sleeves? I'd hate if we missed a sprained elbow from a wayward net." She asks. 

Todd huffs but obliges, nodding when the coach holds out her hand as if to check his arms. Her fingers are warm and dry where she squeezes his biceps and forearms, bending and straightening them before nodding. 

"Good news, the net was incompetent. You might have some bruising and what looks like a fabric burn, but I think you're clear otherwise." She says and Todd tugs his sleeves down, taking the ice packs she tosses to him. 

"Can we have hall passes, for returning the net, please?" Cameron asks and Butler smiles at her. 

"Of course, I appreciate the stewardship of my wayward equipment." She says, pulling a carbon paper pad from her desk and scribbling the passes out, asking them each for their teachers.

Todd catches sight of the wall clock and smirks as he realizes they’ll probably miss the rest of history at this rate. He nudges Kurt tipping his chin at the clock and the blue mutant grins at him. Butler hands them their passes and shoos them out into the hall with an order not to lolligag. Todd immediately takes the slowest pace possible, Kurt matching him. Cameron ends up halfway down the hall before she notices they’re nowhere near behind her. She turns, her red-brown hair fluffing around her face. 

“We’ve already missed so much class.” She says and Kurt holds up a hand waving for her to go head. 

“Go on without us, we don’t want you to miss anymore after all your help.” He says, “We’re in the same class, we’ll be okay.” 

Cameron puffs out her cheeks before blowing out a breath and turning back around, “Fine! But be careful.” 

Todd laughs under his breath as she disappears around the corner, “She’s totally ending up varsity captain.” 

“For sure.” Kurt says, then glances at Todd, “You alright?” 

Todd groans, “I already have Lance and Freddy to wring their hands over me, I don’t need you too. I’m fine.” He glances down at the ice pack pressed against the arm they twisted, sighing as anger snarls in his gut, “I could have taken them.” 

“I know. You could have put them all through the wall without sweating.” Kurt says, and Todd looks up to see gold eyes staring at him, “But you knew that would bring a different trouble. You were working your way free when I got there. Doing the smart thing instead of the easy thing. That’s hard.” 

Todd grunts, “Don’t make me sound so noble, I didn’t want the hassle if I’d creamed them is all.” 

Kurt shakes his head, “I’m not saying you were being noble. I mean it, you were being smart. They’re afraid of us in the first place because they think we’re strong. Get caught proving them right taking out a beloved idiot like Duncan and you’ll find yourself hunted. I hate that he hurt you though.” 

Todd stops short with his hand on Finch’s classroom door, caught off guard by the way those gold eyes burn at him, by the concern underneath the anger in Kurt’s face. The shorter mutant smirks, elbowing Kurt. 

“That’s what you’re for, to send jackasses crashing into walls and get ice for my boo boos for me.” Todd says, yanking open the door right as the bell rings. Finch gives them a pinched look, like they’ve let their dog shit on his begonias without picking it up and Todd holds in a laugh, feeling Kurt’s shoulders shake beside him.

Kurt smiles at him, the look almost real as they gather their shit from their desks.

“Getting us out of class might be the only good thing Duncan’s ever done. See you at lunch?” He asks and Todd grins at him.

“You know it, fuzz.” He says.

At lunch, Tabby drops an unopened bubble tea in Todd’s lap as she plops down behind him under the big tree the Brotherhood have taken to sharing with some of the X-Geeks since Kurt and Todd started their charade. She chucks a bright purple one at Kurt who catches it with a surprised happy chirp. Todd holds up the pink and white ombre slurry, dotted with round dark gems at the bottom, certain it’s the cherry almond flavor Tabby knows he likes. He shoots her a suspicious glance.

“It’s not my birthday.” He says. 

“But it is a ‘Toddles and blue embarrassed the shit out of Duncan day,’ and we believe in positive reinforcement in this household.” Tabby says, taking a sip of her own bubble tea before swapping with Amara beside her. 

“That was less than two hours ago.” Kurt says, shooting a baffled look at Todd, who shrugs at him, rifling through the blue mutant’s lunch kit, Tabby peers over his shoulder, poking him til he gives her one of the tangerines nestled inside. He hands it to her whole and she stares at him with wide eyes til he takes it back and peels it with a sigh. 

Beside Lance, Pietro makes a whip sound with his mouth, but Kurt shoots a tapioca pearl at the boy before Todd or Tabby can get him. The speedster makes that irritated angry cat crossed with a broken violin sound and chucks the pearl back at Kurt who dodges. Jean clucks her tongue and the pair sit back in their spots from their half risen positions, sulking. 

“And in that two hours, Cameron talked to her friend Cass who talked to James, who talked to Toni, who talked to Craig who was walking by the football field as Coach Butler reamed Coach Smith for the volleyball teams stuff getting messed with. Then Craig told Jerome, who told Jessica about overhearing the rest of the football team ripping into Duncan after drills when he went to get something out of his baseball locker.” Kitty says, seemingly without pausing for a breath and Todd wonders if she can pull oxygen directly from the air via her powers. 

“So in short, Duncan’s ass got chewed and now he’ll probably be on me even more.” Todd grumbles, feeling Kurt tense up beside him.

“Duncan has lost his good standing with his teammates.” Jean says and Todd realizes she’s hovering her cheese puffs to avoid getting her fingers stained, “The teammates his daddy told him to get in nice with because they’re all sons of his business partners or rivals in town.” 

Tabby tosses an arm around Todd’s shoulder, “So Duncy better let your ass go if he knows what’s good for him.” 

“Hooray for rich people bullshit I guess.” Lance says, then looks Todd over, “He get you at all?”

Todd opens his mouth to brush off the concern but Kurt makes a low growl beside him, sending him a sulky look and Todd sneers before rolling his eyes. “His pets bruised up my arms and he got me in the gut but I’m fine.” 

“How’re your legs?” Kurt asks and Freddy leans around Scott to peer at Todd.

“He got you in the legs?” Freddy says. 

“No, because he doesn’t have a death wish.” Todd says, staring at Kurt like Duncan might have clocked the blue mutant in the head when Todd wasn’t looking. 

“You were holding yourself back from kicking. Not releasing tension can hurt as much as getting hit, and last longer.” Kurt says, shrugging as he takes a bite of the cold pizza from his lunch kit.

“You do bitch about your legs aching when you haven’t gotten out much.” Pietro says and Todd shoots him a filthy look.

“Do you stretch at all?” Kurt asks. 

“If you put the remote in a spot he can’t reach with his tongue.” Freddy says and Todd turns a betrayed look on the taller mutant. 

“E tu Brutus?” Todd asks, hand to his chest. “I can put my foot behind my head without even trying, what do I have to stretch for?” 

Kurt shakes his head, waving a hand in the air as he speaks,  “I can fold myself into a box if I want, it’s not about flexibility. Our muscles, they need release. You can’t run a car all the time without maintenance, ja?” 

“You offering to release my muscles, blueberry?” Todd asks with a leer. Pietro gags and Tabby shoots another Tapioca pearl at him. Scott and Freddy both make troubled noises, like a pair of grandmas startled by raccoons digging through their trash. Next to Wanda, Rogue makes a noise like she’s found a roach in her shoe.

Kurt smirks back at him, “No I’m offering to teach you to release your own muscles.” 

“Pretty sure he knows how to do that one already.” Lance says and Todd chucks the tangerine peel at him, snickering when it goes down the taller boy’s shirt.

“Sure, fuzz. Stretch me out after school in the lab?” Todd asks and Kurt chokes on his drink at the phrasing, shooting Todd a glare. He swallows sticking his tongue out at Todd before nodding. 

The conversation shifts away from Duncan and what muscles Todd does or does not stretch. The X-Geeks complain about an increase in drills at Baldy’s orders and the Brotherhood play them all tiny violins before Rogue and Kitty start talking about theater class. Kurt’s tail drapes across his lap and Tabby leans against his side, a pair of warm, pleasant weights against him. 

After school, Kurt has them lay out the old wrestling mat Forge for some reason has nestled among the endless mishmash of spare parts he keeps in the back room. Todd and Forge had come across it one day, but the worn wistful look on Forge’s face, like they’d dug up an old lover’s polaroid made Todd hold his tongue. They’d used the mat since then, for lying around and sliding big parts across the floor more easily, and on one occasion, while high on success and weed, Forge had demanded Todd teach him to wrestle and they’d rolled around until the mechanic breathlessly tapped out by smacking Todd in the ear, laughing. 

Forge was off catching up with old friends today. Apparently one of his high school buddies had become an expert on space time theory teaching at a nearby university. He’d stayed in touch with Forge’s parents over the years, and from the way the mechanic choked up telling the story, had been more than happy to hear his lost friend’s voice on the end of the line. Forge’d gone quiet for a long moment after mentioning his pal’s kid was nearly their age now. The mechanic was out of town for the week with his mom to see what an intergenerational friendship might look like when you started out in the same decade, so Todd and Kurt had the lab to themselves. 

Instead of dropping down onto the mat once they get everything out of the way and roll it out, Kurt goes snooping through the scrap bins set up along the far wall. Todd sprawls out on the mat, sitting up on his elbows to watch the taller mutant. 

“Should I be worried that this lesson in calisthenics might somehow require a soldering torch?” Todd drawls and Kurt snorts, continuing his perusal of the bins.

“I know this isn’t where you keep those.” He says, and Todd feels a strange fuzziness in his chest that Kurt might have learned the layout of the lab enough to know where equipment is. 

Kurt chirps triumphantly, pulling a two foot long piece of PVC pipe about as big around as Todd’s wrist out from one of the long, shallow bins on the floor. He returns to the mat, prize in hand and Todd raises an eyebrow. 

“Do I need a safeword for this stretching lesson?” He asks. 

“Just say ‘red’ if I go too hard for you. I promise I’ll be gentle.” Kurt says, smirking and Todd bites his lip as his face heats. 

“A’ight. I’m here for learning how to keep my legs from feeling like they’re rusting on the inside, but I’m gonna need an explanation about the pipe, fuzz.” Todd says. Kurt wiggles his eyebrows wobbling the pipe between one hand. Todd bites his lip to squash the snicker that slips from him. 

“Why ever would you be suspicious about what I might do with this pipe?” Kurt asks, eyes locked on Todds as he lets the length of the pipe slide through his hand shifting his fingers in one long stroke, catching it as he reaches the end. Todd clears his throat to force his heart back into his chest.

“You know, didn’t think this was a plumbing issue.” Todd says, drawing up his knee and resting his arm on it, hoping the blue mutant thinks he’s just taking the weight off his sore elbow.

“If you haven’t stretched in a long time, your muscles, they build up,” Kurt starts, waving his hand, grabbing for the word, “Acids. It makes them stiff and hard to loosen.” He catches Todd’s leer and gives him a flat look. “Don’t even start.” 

“You’re the one talking about pipes and hard muscles, fuzz, I’m not adding anything in that isn’t there.” Todd says and Kurt rolls his eyes, giving Todd that little smirk he does when he can’t argue with the shorter mutant. 

“The pipe is for rolling out your muscles after we stretch a bit. It helps push out the tension that can be harder to get out otherwise. It can hurt a lot though, I won’t lie.” Kurt says. 

“The thing that’s supposed to make less pain will hurt?” Todd says, giving Kurt a flat look. 

“Sometimes you need to feel the pain deeply before you can release it.” Kurt says, shrugging. “And if you actually start stretching instead of flinging yourself around without warming up or cooling down, things might hurt less over time.” 

Todd gives Kurt a shove, rolling his eyes, “Thanks, mom, I’ll remember to floss and wash behind my ears too.” 

“Flossing does apparently improve overall health outcomes, at least according to Herr McCoy.” Kurt says. 

“Shut up and show me how to stretch.” Todd says and Kurt laughs and does as he’s asked.

For the most part, the routine Kurt shows him reminds Todd a lot of the yoga tapes he’s seen Freddy, Wanda and Pietro using on Sundays in the living room. Kurt flows through the positions he shows Todd, starting with them on the floor and slowly working their way to standing and then back down on the floor again. He slips out of his own poses periodically to adjust Todd’s positioning, shifting a foot over, pressing a palm flat to Todd’s shoulders to guide him into a deeper position, holding a hand to his belly and having him breathe deeper. The heat of Kurt’s hands radiates through Todd’s clothes and his breathing stutters more than once at the way that warmth ripples through him. Then Kurt has them get on their knees and Todd barks out a laugh at his instructions. 

“Dawg, you want me to what now?” He asks, turning his head to look at Kurt crouched beside him. 

“It stretches your hips really well!” He says, tail lashing behind him as he crosses his arms.

“Right, so advanced doggy style if I wanna open up my hips.” Todd says, but still gets into the position as Kurt snorts, “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, Dawg, that’s exactly what this is.” 

There’s a telling silence from Kurt and Todd turns his head to look at the other mutant, who’s pointedly staring down at the mat. He’s doing the pose with Todd, leaning all the way over on his forearms, his knees just above his hips, legs spread wide apart so his belly hovers off the floor. Todd notices the blue mutant’s ass is flat with his back and adjusts his own posture. Kurt’s ears flick, and Todd knows he feels him staring, but he still says nothing. 

“Blue.” He says and Kurt swivels his head to look at him.

“If you think this one inspires ideas, wait til I show you the last one.” he says, and Todd’s torn between laughter and the flustered thump of his heart in his chest.

“This is why I asked for a safe word.” He says.

Kurt pushes himself out of the pose, sitting back up and Todd follows suit, “And I gave you one, do you need it?”

Kurt’s tone is joking, but his eyes are serious as he looks at Todd, head tilted in a question that makes the amphibious mutant pause. They’re joking around, but this also feels so close to real, the heat of Kurt’s hands on him, his soft breathing and low voice in his ear as he offers adjustments and praise that feelings he keeps shoving down are wriggling up through the floorboards of his heart. He blinks to banish the image of the long line of the blue mutant’s body laid out low, in a position Todd’s grateful to have only seen from the side, not the back. A fire keeps rising and banking in Todd’s stomach in ways that feel too big to look at, but he doesn’t want to stop either. After all, they’re only stretching. 

“Show me whatever porn star position will supposedly realign every joint in my body.” Todd says and Kurt laughs. 

“This one only helps your back, sorry, but it is really good for that.” He says, “Lie on your back, then grab the arches of your feet and pull your legs up.” 

Kurt, whether out of a secret malicious desire to destroy Todd’s brain or his insistent belief that a good teacher does anything he asks of his student, assumes the position. His thighs end up level with his stomach, legs spread wide and his shoulders back as he grips his feet. Todd makes a noise in his throat and the blue mutant turns to look at him, blinking wide eyes. But there’s a wicked curve to his mouth that he’s fighting to hide.  

“Dawg, I have watched videos like this.” Todd says. 

“And those performers probably have great lower back health.” Kurt replies, smirking. They stare at each other a beat longer before Todd sighs and gives in, lying back. He’s surprised at how easy the position is to get into, but supposes it’s pretty much his usual crouch, just laid out on his back, ass and crotch open to the world. His face heats. 

“You do this in front of people, fuzz?” Todd asks, and Kurt hums. “How?”

“Mindset helps. Most of the time this is just stretching. We need to do it or we risk hurting ourselves or someone else up in the air where it counts, so there isn’t really space to feel embarrassed about twisting into a weird position because everyone is.” Kurt says, tipping his head to look at Todd, he rocks side to side a little bit, and Todd mimics him, sighing a bit with the motion works out some of the tension from having to walk around upright all day. “Sometimes we even push on each other’s legs to help go deeper.” 

Todd jerks, nearly tipping over, his face heating as Kurt laughs at whatever he sees in the amphibious mutant’s expression. Those gold eyes glimmer at him in the low light of the lab. They’d only turned on the side lighting at the corners of the room, leaving the brighter ceiling lights off and Kurt’s face is deep shadows against the glow of his eyes and the bright sickle of his smile.

“Most of the time. What about the other times?” Todd asks, because his brain’s stalling out on Kurt’s voice saying “go deeper” and it’s what falls out of his mouth as little thoughts he keeps shut up in the basement worm their way loose.

Kurt ducks his head, biting his lip and a cold chill runs through Todd, certain that he’s broken whatever strange inbetween space they’re in by asking too much too bluntly. Then Kurt’s eyes flick back to him, shyness and a fire that makes Todd’s toes curl mingling in his expression. 

“Other times, when I’m alone, I do think about the possibilities.” He says, lips twisting in a crooked smile and Todd’s thoughts careen off a cliff, crashing in a fiery blaze. 

“How does that work, I mean you kinda got your hands full?” Todd asks, shaking his own feet with his hands for emphasis.

Kurt raises an eyebrow and waves his tail through the air in large lazy loops and Todd feels like a jackass. 

“It helps when you have an extra limb. But also, I’m flexible enough I can, uh, reach if I shift a little bit.” Kurt says, then folds himself over even more, letting go of his feet to hook his knees behind his elbows. He rests his hands on the floor, like he doesn’t want to call attention to how much of himself he could easily have in hand in that position, though Todd’s brain rapidly fills in the blanks without his permission. Kurt gives him a crooked smile, his tail flicking a bit in that way it does when he’s nervous. 

“I, uh, figured you might have similar options?” Kurt says, gesturing to his mouth and sticking out his tongue. Todd’s thoughts crash even further at the implication that Kurt’s paid any thought to what Todd may or may not do with his tongue. 

The blue mutant seems to catch himself, his fur puffing up as he pops out of his doubled over position, sitting up and stammering, “I mean, not that I, I haven’t been like. I meant just now I figured.” He finally cuts himself off by slapping a hand over his own mouth before sliding it up to cover his eyes, “Nevermind, there’s no pulling that one back.”

Todd laughs, the blue mutant’s bashfulness helping him shake off the daze he’d fallen into from Kurt holding himself open while asking if Todd can blow himself with his own tongue. 

“Nah, dawg, pretty sure I started it by asking how you fuck yourself while curled up like a bug.” Todd says, sitting up and turning to face Kurt “It’s chill, but yeah, I do have similar options.” He raises his fingers in scare quotes around the last word and Kurt giggles. 

“This the part where you beat me with a pipe now?” Todd asks, because he needs to get out of whatever this moment is and stop thinking about all the ways he knows how to touch himself while imagining all the ways Kurt might know to touch himself and wondering what thoughts Kurt may be having about Todd’s aforementioned self touch habits. Kurt’s shoulders drop and he laughs, slouching like he’s as relieved as Todd. 

“A beating would be much faster. You might wish I did after this.” He says and Todd flinches giving Kurt a dry look. 

“You really know how to sell a guy on something, fuzz.” He says and a shiver runs down his spine at the sharp smile Kurt gives him.

“I know.” He says, picking up the pipe. “You can do this on yourself, but someone else can often push deeper than you can on your own. Tell me if it hurts too much, we can slow down.” 

“Fuzz, I can’t tell if you’re not paying attention or saying shit on purpose.” Todd says, stretching his legs out when Kurt gestures at him to do so. 

“You’ll never know.” He says and then launches into a hands on demonstration of what he calls ‘muscle rolling’ which Todd is fairly certain is not an accurate translation. 

Kurt was right, Todd almost wishes he’d just thwapped him with the PVC pipe and called it over with, it probably would hurt less given the lightweight plastic. Instead, Kurt methodically rolls the pipe up and down Todd’s thighs, putting his weight into as he goes. Todd wasn’t aware all his muscles were actually steel cables, or that pressing on them would set his nerves ablaze in pins and needles. His legs tense up with each pass of the roller, but Kurt murmurs encouragement and praise for how well Todd’s doing, reminding him to keep breathing and offering pointers on how to shift his leg and hand positions to do this himself. 

The contrast between the firm aching pressure of his motions and the softness in his voice lights up the same parts of Todd’s brain that ignite when Tabby looks at him all burning eyes and soft fingers tipped with sharp nails and words that prickle in ways that make Todd tingle more than hurt. It doesn’t help that by the time Kurt shifts to working on Todd’s calves, his body is pulsing with warm, heavy waves. All the pain of the roller breaks away to leave the tender relief of finally digging a rock out of your shoe after walking on it all day. His muscles feel like they’ve been wrung out and left to hang dry. 

Kurt rolls over Todd’s left calf a few times before pausing, looking up at Todd through dark bangs. 

“We can stop. I know this is a lot at once.” He says, and Todd doubts he realizes exactly what kind of a lot this is, particularly since Todd isn’t even sure, outside of some part of him dropping into a space where he feels like he could take anything if Kurt keeps talking to him in that low voice that makes the world feel like it’s just them. 

Todd shakes his head to buy his mouth time to figure out words again, “Nah. It’s a lot, but it’s not too much.” 

Kurt stares at him with the same suspicion Todd used to get when he caught him out under the bleachers, a certainty that Todd was only half telling the truth even if he was out there only for a smoke break. 

“I’ll be real, I’m not absorbing a damn thing you’re saying, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop.” Todd says and Kurt snorts. “Gimme the thing, let me try it.”

Kurt hands him the pipe and watches as Todd rolls over his calves. He definitely fights the urge to lighten the pressure as his muscles ache and twinge under his hands. He sucks in a deep breath letting it go to his stomach and pushing away the little thrill that runs down his spine when Kurt makes an approving noise. Doing the motions himself helps Todd swim his way back up from wherever he found himself sinking into. He focuses on the way he can feel his hamstrings loosening up through the roller and through his leg. It hurts, but the relief ebbing in with each pass of the pipe over his legs lets out a tension he didn’t realize he was holding. 

“You can also use a pool billiard for this. Or a tennis ball.” Kurt says, and Todd looks at him crossing his legs and draping the pipe in his lap.

“You guys just spend your time finding new uses for hardware supplies and sports equipment?” Todd asks, raising an eyebrow and Kurt laughs. 

“Why buy special equipment when you can get creative with things lying around the house?” Kurt asks, “There’s one more thing we can do today, if you want.”

“This is where you murder me with the hammock, isn’t it?” Todd asks.

“Actually, you can get a really good stretch with a hammock.” Kurt says, “But, no. Let me hold your weight.” 

“This is another excuse to snuggle.” Todd says, “I see your agenda.” 

“What is a ratty plush toy for, if not snuggling?” Kurt says and Todd winces, but the blue mutant bumps his knee against Todd’s with a smile, no anger or hurt in his face.

“Alright, definitely didn’t bring my best insult game in my introduction.” He says and Kurt laughs.

“You improved quickly. I’ve never been called a gecko before, thought that was inspired.” Kurt says, then tips his head to give Todd a heatless glare, “Could have tried harder than fuzznuts though. That’s not really unique to my condition.” 

“It’s madlibbing, dawg, I go for quantity, not quality. Let you sort out what sticks.” Todd says, “Are we snuggling, or what?” 

“Or what.” Kurt says, “This is practice relaxing. You lie down and I’ll pick up each of your limbs and hold it til I feel you give me all your weight, starting with your head and working my way around.” 

“Of course you need relaxing practice, you’re tight enough I can bounce a quarter off you for change.” Todd says and Kurt shoots him an unimpressed look that fades into a crooked smile.

“You might be the only one who thinks that here.” He says and Todd shakes his head.

“Nah, pretty sure Tabby’d agree with me in a heartbeat. Bet you half her fun is winding you up tight enough that you can’t help but snap loose.” Todd says and laughs at the dazed sort of look Kurt gets, stare seeming to hit the middle distance as his tail swirls in figure eights, “Damn, what has she done to you?” 

Kurt shakes himself and gives Todd a smile that doesn’t quite shake the dreaminess of his last expression, “You’re playmates too, I’m sure you can fill in the blanks.” 

Todd snorts, then shivers memories of sweet wicked laughter and kisses that start hard and blur around the edges ghosting over his skin. “Oh, probably. What am I doing for this holding my limbs thing?” 

Kurt pulls out one of his textbooks, laying it on the floor in front of his crossed legs and tapping it with a finger, “Put your head here and lie down, with your knees up. Beyond that, let go. Talk or don’t, leave your eyes open, close them. As long as you let me hold your weight everything else is fine.”

Todd shrugs and crawls into place, dropping his head down on the textbook. He stares up at the snare of wires that snake across the lab ceiling, wondering if they’ve potentially left a fire hazard to brew up there. Kurt’s hands rustle against the mat as they come to rest on either side of his head. His face tips into Todd’s vision, glowing eyes looking down at him through dark lashes. 

“It okay for me to start?” Kurt asks. 

“You gonna ask permission for every little touch after all the ways we’ve hassled each other?” Todd asks. Kurt pokes a finger in his ear, and Todd scrunches his face up, swatting the hand away, “Yeah, start, dawg. Barring you like, holding the weight of my ass or something, access granted to do this thing.” 

Kurt flicks Todd’s hair in his face, and the amphibious mutant considers how he really could use a cut, then remembers that he needs to pinch a new set of clippers for the house, since the old pair’s motor up and died. His thoughts stutter as a pair of broad three fingered hands slip between his head and the book sliding together to cradle his skull. Todd blinks up at the blue mutant, who watches him expression relaxed. Kurt holds him for several breaths and Todd’s not sure how to know if he’s doing this right. Warm thumbs sweep a gentle line up and down the top of Todd’s neck. 

“Loosen your neck, don’t worry about keeping your head in place. I got you.” Kurt says, his voice soft and his eyes warm. It feels too big to keep looking up into that sharp angled, soft furred face and let his head drop back, so Todd chickens out, letting his eyes fall shut. Those warm fingers hold him a minute longer, thumbs still stroking through the soft baby hairs on Todd’s neck. Todd sighs, sinking a little bit into the touch, and there’s a quiet, pleased noise above him. 

The hands move away as gently as they slid in and before Todd can miss them, they’re pressing into his shoulders, pushing in a back and forth motion that rocks him a little bit before stilling to just hold him. There’s a rustle of fabric and the hand on his left slips away, the one on his right sliding down his arm until it finds his hand, wrapping gently around his palm, gripping as if to arm wrestle him. Kurt lifts his forearm, rocking it side to side, then his other hand comes back, cupping Todd’s elbow as he lifts his arm up from the floor. Kurt murmurs something about letting go at him, and Todd pulls in a deep breath, then another as he tries to sink into the strange feeling of Kurt wobbling his arm. 

There’s a moment between holding himself up and letting go that feels like falling from a higher jump than he expected. But instead of the jolt through his legs on the landing, there’s just two broad points of warmth running over his arm, shifting to massage his palm and roll his fingers. He hardly notices the transition this time, the weight of his hand against his stomach soothing. Kurt’s palms press against his bare feet, pushing them down into the mat for a few seconds or maybe several minutes before sliding up Todd’s ankle and lifting his right leg. His foot is hooked over a strong shoulder as those palms cup his knee and calf, repeating the rocking motion done on his arm. It shifts from feeling strange to lulling, like floating belly up in the ocean, the tide rippling around him. Todd absently notices the way his hip seems to slip deeper into place at some point, and things blur together after that. He stops tracking where Kurt is around him, the blue mutant’s presence becoming lines of warmth against him and the soft rustle of fabric with the occasional quiet murmur. Todd barely remembers he’s not supposed to roll over right now, fighting the urge to turn and curl up on his side the way he does falling asleep. He sinks into himself, into the warm mottled darkness beneath his eyelids and the steady rise and fall of his belly under his hand.

Todd eventually swims back up to the surface of himself, awareness of a warm pair of hands under his head creeping in as he shifts his feet against the mat, scrunching and smoothing his shirt under his hands. He blinks his eyes open after a few failed attempts, his gaze focusing on a warm blue face watching him with the lazy grace of a cat surveying the world from its favorite window.

“Was this my reward for running me through meat tenderizer?” Todd asks, his voice slow and thick to his own ears. Kurt gives a laugh that’s more breath and a smile than sound. His thumbs brush soft circles in the tender skin behind Todd’s ears.

“This is part of the cool-down stretches we do in the circus a lot. It feels good, to be still after so much motion, makes the come-down from the show less jarring. But my parents have done this with me too, since I was small.” Kurt says, and Todd notices his tail is draped down along Todd’s arm, tip curled in the crook of his elbow, “My mum used to trick me into falling asleep this way. It’s funny, her hands used to cover my ears when she held my head. She said that’s what the ocean was like, being held in someone’s hands.” 

Todd feels utterly unwilling to move from where Kurt’s palms cradle the base of his skull, the circles his thumbs brush against his neck sending warm currents down through his shoulders. He feels small in a way that makes the world fold around him and hold him close, instead of the chilling, raw smallness that sends the world sprawling out in a roar around him that he’s used to. He blinks up at the gold eyes watching him from deep blue and gives Kurt a lazy smile.

“Bet she still uses this to trick you into sleeping.” He says and Kurt snorts. 

“Probably, I’m not clever enough to outwit her.” He says, then his eyes soften as he studies Todd’s face “I’m glad you’re alright.” 

Todd tips his head in Kurt’s hands, so one warm blue palm presses to his cheek. He wraps a webbed hand around Kurt’s wrist, thumb stroking the velvet fuzz there. 

“Me too. About you, too.” Todd says, “When Duncan went for you I nearly snapped the net anyway.” 

Kurt laughs, the sound rolling through the room, “I know, your eyes went red and I saw that little shift in your shoulders that means you're about to jump. It’s why I winked at you.” 

“Pulled some Bug’s Bunny shit there. I thought Dunc would give himself a hernia.” Todd says, chuckling and Kurt hums.

“When you’ve spent a couple years fighting a human bullet with rubber bones, a bratty jock with a bad haircut and terrible boxing posture really isn’t much of a challenge.” Kurt says. 

“Summers has that same haircut, yo.” Todd says, quirking an eyebrow, and Kurt snorts.

“I know.” He says then there’s a high electronic trilling from where they’ve dumped their backpacks and they both jump. Kurt’s ears pin back against his skull and he hisses a curse, shooting Todd an apologetic glance as he slips his hands out from under the shorter mutant’s head.

He hops over to their bags and roots around til he pulls out his phone, cutting off the irritating chirping. Todd drags himself up, fluffing his hands through his hair as he tries to pull himself back into personhood from sapient puddledom. Kurt is rigid across the room, eyes staring unseeing at the wall as he hums and uh-huhs in response to whatever the other person says on the other end of the line.

“Okay, do the girls need me to pick them up from the mall?” He says, “Can do. Give me 15 minutes to get there then get us all back to the manor. Later.” 

He hangs up and curls in on himself, tail making sweeping arcs behind him as he presses a hand to his face. 

“You good, dawg?” Todd asks, and Kurt drops his hand to look at the shorter mutant. The softness in his expression from before is all gone, replaced with a tightness under his eyes and in the line of his jaw. Kurt blows out a breath and shakes his head, lurching to standing. 

“Sorry. I have to go. That was Scott. Logan wants us all back to base within thirty minutes for a drill.” Kurt says, smiling as Todd hands him his textbook back from the floor, “I can give you a lift home though. You’re gonna feel tired after all that.” 

“You’re spoiling me, fuzz.” Todd says, then bites his lip, “Doesn’t baldy already have you guys running drills night and day?” 

Kurt grunts, tossing his bag over his shoulder, “Three mornings a week and two nights. Logan mentioned starting these spontaneous drills this month. To hone our emergency response skills or something.” 

“That’s sure something.” Todd says, not trying to cover how much that sounds like bullshit to him.

Kurt catches what Todd leaves unsaid, his face lighting up in a laugh as he ports them to the Brotherhood’s front porch. He pulls back to port again, but Todd squeezes his hand, darting in to kiss him on the cheek, in case anyone’s watching them. 

“Don’t get fried in egghead’s junior torture chamber, aight?” Todd says, “I need to get you back for this torture session first. You gotta check my progress, make sure I’m doing this pipe rolling shit right.” 

“Like I’m going to turn down free attention.” Kurt says and vanishes with a wink and a laugh.

Inside the house, Todd hears a splashing crash and a whoop, likely the sound of Pietro crashing into the wall attempting to mop the hallway with his feet again during the Brotherhood’s monthly speed cleaning competition. Todd sighs, smirking as he remembers the mud he’d noticed caked in his treads as he put his sneakers back on earlier. He rolls his neck, enjoying the new looseness in the motion then yanks open the door, ready to see how quickly he can undo the fresh clean shine on the floor.

Chapter Text

“I know we have plans today, but can I make an inappropriate call on your phone?” Kurt says as soon as he steps through the Brotherhood door, waving a prepaid phone card like it’s an unlimited black card and the house is a Versace, not a halfway house halfway to collapsing.

The seniors had a delayed start tomorrow while all the younger grades had standardized testing or some shit, so he and Kurt had made plans to hang out, in part because Tabby had shot them a sly look across the lunch table, arm slung around Amara and asked if they were doing anything with the extra time since Baldy wouldn’t care if the X-Geeks were out late. Kurt had glanced at him with a little smile, saying he had afternoon drills, but could come by after. 

But now the blue mutant is standing in the Brotherhood entryway, his eyes sweeping back and forth in that ‘scanning for all the exits’ anxious way Todd’s gotten familiar with. His fur is still damp and his shirt clings to his shoulders a bit, a purple hoodie’s tied around his waist like an afterthought.

“Uh sure, dawg, but I can’t promise you privacy. Phone’s in the hallway.” Todd says. 

“We can probably translate everything you speak too, bluebell.” Pietro calls from the sofa where he and Wanda sprawl watching TV with Freddy.

Kurt shrugs, “Does not matter. Translate and eavesdrop over what comes out of my mouth all you want, just stay out of my head.” He runs a hand through his hair, palm rubbing at his temple and Todd wonders if living under the roof of the world’s nosiest, snobbiest psychic increases your chances of headaches.

Freddy turns to look at the two mutants in the hallway, eyebrows scrunched together in that look he gets when one of the other Brotherhood kids is acting off but refuses to admit anything’s wrong.

“What happened?” Freddy asks.

Kurt shakes his head but shoots the tall boy a soft smile. 

“It’s my turn on the bad break-up damage control team.” He says, then absently plants a kiss on Todd’s cheek, “You’re a lifesaver, if you hear me port, assume I’m halfway to Hamburg to beat a schwein’s ass.” 

Todd snorts and kisses the blue teen’s jaw to cover the butterflies that the press of those warm lips set loose in his chest. He leads Kurt to the phone in the kitchen hutch. When they’re out of sight of the others, Kurt looks at Todd like he’s offered to change his flat tire in the rain and mouths ‘thank you.’ Todd rolls his eyes and shoves the blue mutant, earning a shoulder check that hardly jostles him in return. Todd hovers as Kurt dials, but the blue mutant waves him off, covering the ringing receiver and tilting his chin up to whisper. 

“Go pretend not to listen with the others, this will probably be a while and I don’t want you to feel trapped sitting next to me.” He says.

“We’re not gonna eavesdrop.” Todd grumbles, and Kurt shoots him a look so flat he could serve dinner on it. 

Then the line clicks and Kurt’s attention snaps away. Todd makes his way to the other room as Kurt murmurs a quiet, “Hey Stephy.” and sighs at whatever is said on the other line.

Kurt’s heart twists when Stephan picks up, the other acrobat’s voice is hoarse, a thin veneer of false cheer spread over the damage of hours of crying. The blue mutant doubts that the other boy has slept much. 

“I will gut that jackass like a fish and feed him to crows.” Kurt says, affecting that tone of intense seriousness the two use for their worst threats. 

Stephan snorts on the other end of the line, a soft sound the receiver barely catches. 

“You won’t. You don’t want to give the birds indigestion.” He says.

“I’m sorry that asshole never appreciated how wonderful you are, but I’m glad you’re no longer stuck running after his attention.” Kurt says. 

They are so eavesdropping. Most of the conversation is in German and Sinte, but Wanda establishes one of her brain radio lines between the four of them. There’s a lag between the words drifting from the other room and understanding flowing from the twin’s brain into Todd’s. Some of it’s patchy, either because the twins don’t fully catch what Kurt or the boy on the line, Stephy, has said or because they aren’t quite familiar with a phrase, dialect varying.

The first time Wanda did this, Todd had panicked, wondering how much she could read and how often. Wanda’d sneered at him, rolling her eyes and insisting that she had to consciously work to establish connections with people’s brains and most of the time no one’s head was worth the effort. Vicarious gossip however, was always worth the effort in the Brotherhood house.

“This isn’t nice.” Freddy says fiddling with the edge of the couch cushion.

Todd bumps Freddy’s shoulder with his knee from his perch on the back of the couch. 

“At the circus you apparently can’t breathe without five people listening to you at any time, and you heard what Lance said about the Haus of Egghead.” Todd says, “He wanted us out of his head and he meant it, but he also means it if he says we can eavesdrop.” 

“Great, so shut up so we can pretend not to hear your boyfriend.” Pietro hisses.

Todd sticks out his tongue, leg bouncing on the back of the couch, but Wanda holds a hand up in warning and both boys back off. Freddy leans to bump his shoulder into Todd’s. 

“You’re worried.” he says.

Todd freezes, then shrugs, trying to cover. The bits they’ve picked up so far don’t sound like a disaster scenario. Though the guy’s ex definitely sounds like a douchebag, and Pietro and Freddy had both shot Todd wide-eyed looks as Kurt launched into a very creative and somewhat terrifying list of threats and or pranks he was willing to commit at Stephy’s request, peppered in with the more expected ‘you’re a wonderful treasure and deeply worthy of love, you deserve someone who appreciates all that you are without attempting to shrink you or cage you, blah blah blah’ monologues that Todd can tell the blue mutant means with every fiber of his being.

But Todd’s heard the tenderness in Kurt’s voice whenever he lets a story about his circus family slip out. And “Stephy” definitely was one of the kids he was closest with, given how often his name pops up as a co-conspirator in pranks or sneaking around. He thinks of the few calls he’s made back to the city, the handful of visits. 

Todd remembers the sound of Gina obviously crying on the phone, but acting like she wasn’t as she offhandedly mentioned the guy she’d been real sweet on hadn’t worked out, like it was an afterthought in her updates to him. Todd had wanted to catch the next bus in, but Gina’d held him off, pushed him to make her laugh instead. So he had, running his mouth as his stomach twisted in knots, wishing he could make her believe the bastard hadn’t been worth her tears.

Freddy squeezes Todd’s knee, giving him a little shake that wobbles Todd’s whole body. Todd gives him a lopsided grin. Then Pietro makes a noise and Todd’s attention drifts back to the conversation they’re all pretending not to hear.

“Look, is that pretty boy still the shop clerk down at the market?” Kurt asks.

“The one with the dimples? Luka.” Stephan asks.

“‘The one with the dimples,’ he says, like he didn’t spend a whole day making eyes at this boy while they fucked about St. Georg, then tell me about it at length. Like you don’t already know his name and how many freckles he has.” Kurt says and grins when Stephan makes an indignant blustering sound on the other end of the line.  “Yes, Luka, you still see him around?” 

“We hung out a couple weeks ago.” Stephan says, and Kurt can hear him pouting. He hums, triumphant.

“Does he still look at you with those big cow eyes like ‘oh, beautiful circus boy, do you know your ringlets make you look like one of those pretty naked saints in the fancy church paintings? Oh did you notice how full my lips are, and isn’t it a crime no one is kissing them? Oh, oh, won’t you fix this tragedy?” Kurt says, channeling one of Kitty’s ‘I was a secret princess’ romance novels to croon into the phone in breathy rapture.

Stephan breaks into giggles on the other end of the line, and Kurt’s tail curls satisfied loops in the air. 

“He does not look at me that way.” Stephan says. 

Kurt snorts, “Stephy, Hamburg is big and probably has more mutants than a lot of places, but not enough that his eyes would slide over my blue fanged face without blinking because they’re too busy latching onto the way the sweat running down your neck from our morning run makes your collarbones glisten.” 

“Stop.” Stephan says, but Kurt can hear the beginning of a genuine smile in his voice.

“Never. Have I not spent the last eight years of our friendship wingmanning you as the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood? Was I not right about that boy down by the city docks when we were ten? Did he not spend all summer following you around like a puppy until you kissed him and then was so obsessed he pestered you till you pushed him off the swings? How often have I been wrong?” Kurt says. 

“You’re been wrong about many things, all the time.” Stephan says.

“Not about boys and who would happily serve you their heart for breakfast.” Kurt counters.

“What do I do when they take it back after one bite?” Stephan asks. “What do I do when they run off, having eaten all of mine?” 

Kurt sighs, a humming shush slipping from his lips without thinking at the wobble in Stephan’s voice. 

“You let them go, they weren’t ready to be eaten, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t worthy of the offering.” He says, “And hearts grow back, over time. Or you tell us and we’ll go running after the bastard and kick him until he coughs it back up.” 

Stephan laughs, “How do your Americans not know you’re such a hooligan?” 

Kurt grins into the phone, “It’s the khakis, the beige is like camouflage. I am a good boy without any effort, as long as I keep washing my hands before meals and don’t swear much in English.” 

“And your dirty boy hasn’t caught on?” Stephan asks, sly knowing slipping into his voice.

Kurt freezes, aware again of the game he and Todd are playing, and the four sets of ears likely listening across the hall. 

The conversation on the phone twists away from the distant concept that is Kurt’s circus home to more familiar ground and Todd’s stomach twists, anxious that Kurt might give them away on accident. Then Stephan calls him Kurt’s Dirty Boy and his gut twists for entirely different reasons, face heating. Kurt cracks something about how Todd bathes and he’s apologized for bullying the shorter mutant about it, and Todd rolls his eyes, but then Stephan says something about Kurt always loving the boys with fast hands and dangerous tongues with minds that don’t stay clean and Todd’s entire body catches fire. Pietro makes a gagging sound and Wanda swats him. Freddy gives that quiet embarrassed ‘oh’ he does whenever the sex saxophones start up in a movie and the actors fall into a bed with magic censorship sheets.

Todd pointedly stares out the window and avoids the three sets of eyes burning into him. Suddenly, the choice they’re all making to listen in feels more invasive than when the conversation was centered on a boy Todd’s only abstractly aware of, crying over another boy Todd didn’t know existed til this afternoon.

Kurt’s shoulders scrunch up to his ears, toes curling where he’s crouched on the wall as he takes his turn to get called out. He could complain, but laughter is creeping back into Stephan’s voice and he’ll let himself get roasted a bit if the fire brings it back. 

“I did not ask for your insight in this matter.” He says, mimicking the tone he’s heard Jean take when reporters try to harass them. 

Stephan is unmoved. 

“You did take longer than I thought to catch him.” He says, and Kurt feels the room flip over around him.

“Excuse me?” He says. 

“I have heard everything about what an insufferable pain in the ass this boy is for three summers now. ‘I can’t shake the clingy bastard in a fight, he grapples like a snake.’ ‘He thinks he’s so damn funny with that wide nasty grin of his.’ ‘This fucker rewired a sentinel in twenty minutes, while it was trying to fry us like crabs in a barrel.’” 

“All of those things are true and I fail to see what dots you are connecting.” Kurt says.

“I once endured a ten-minute-long soliloquy about how he looks like some forgotten marshland kindly one that got lost in a thrift shop stocked by garage bands.” Stephan says. “It was not a description framed as criticism.”

“That was absinthe Kurt, absinthe Kurt talks poetry about gutter puddles and anyone who holds eye contact with him for longer than two seconds.” Kurt says.

“Absinthe Kurt also says all your horny romantic thoughts you keep shoved in your brain cupboards so no one suspects you’re the lovechild of a porno and a every top 100 love song from the last decade.” Stephan says.

“Me complaining about a jackass who’s been yanking my tail for three years does not sound like the makings of an epic romance. Or a porn.” Kurt says.

Todd’s ears are ringing like Lance just stormed through the door from wherever he’s gone with Kitty and brought the house down around his head. 

A smug kind of warmth blooms in his chest at the knowledge that Kurt complains about him even in the summer, that Todd matters enough to take up any space in the blue mutant’s head when he isn't around, regardless of that space being more lined with barbs than warm and fuzzy. But then the conversation veers into some very detailed territory about Kurt’s tendency towards friendly encounters in European alleyways.

Todd snags the remote next to Wanda’s leg and flips on the TV, dropping down on the couch next to Freddy. The last thing they catch from the conversation is something about Kurt helping Stephan find American boys to play with when the troupe comes in November before the television drowns out the phone call entirely

The twins both sulk, but Freddy takes his hand away from where it’s been pressed to his chest in increasing scandalized embarrassment. Wanda shuts the line between them and the noise in Todd’s brain becomes his own once more. After a minute, she gives his arm a squeeze, and Todd picks up the concern hidden in the motion. He glances up at her and smiles, lips twisting crookedly.

“What was that bit about him coming to America?” Pietro asks, half to himself. He pops up on his knees to peer over the back of the couch, but Wanda grunts and yanks him back down by his shirt. 

“Ask him when he’s done, ‘Tro.” Todd says and the speedster sulks at them both the way he does when anyone takes more than five minutes to get to the car when they’re all going out, but slumps back into his spot on the couch turning to the TV screen.

Kurt hears the TV suddenly blare to life in the other room, and the recollection that he’d explicitly given the others’ permission to eavesdrop hits him like plunging into ice water. 

“Stephy, remember how I said we weren’t having a private conversation when you first picked up?” He asks and hears Stephan pause on the other end of the line. Both of them were used to bargaining between privacy and actually getting a chance to barf up their feelings, hiding away on roofs or in the backs of train cars for the illusion of seclusion. The other boy hadn’t cared about paying the toll of listening ears when Kurt had mentioned the Brotherhood members in the other room. 

“Shit, they didn’t get bored of hearing me cry about all the boys who’ll never love me after five minutes?” He asks.

“For all the boys that will not love you, there are at least two each who’d slap themselves in the face if you’d kiss them once.” Kurt says and Stephy laughs.

“How lucky for them all that my sadistic tendencies are more for the begging than the pain.” He says. “I’m sorry, do you think they heard what I said about Todd? Or my teasing about your friendly traveling?” 

Kurt sighs, “Don’t be. Nothing I am ashamed of fell from your lips.” Stephan yawns on the other end of the line. “When’s the last time you slept?” 

“I plead the fifth.” He says and Kurt snorts. 

“I don’t think you can do that when you’re not in this country.” Kurt says.

“No, I don’t need to. American law doesn’t extend here, I don’t need to answer shit.” Stephan says and Kurt rolls his eyes.

“Sleep or I call your sister and rat on you.” Kurt says, “Then in the morning go down to the market wearing those blue and white floral pants and that pink shirt you have. Or better yet, just go for a run and show up half soaked with your hair all in your face.” 

“You’re terrible.” Stephy says, but Kurt can hear the smile in his voice. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, go to bed. Dream of all the possibilities you have with your hands free and a world of boys looking to fill them.” Kurt says and hears Stephan laughing as he hangs up on him.

Kurt doesn’t even reach the living room doorway before Pietro’s spitting a question at him. 

“What’s this about your boy coming to America?” Pietro asks, popped up on the couch like a meerkat. 

Kurt didn’t expect that to be the first question thrown his way and stops short, leaning on the doorframe. He looks down at his feet, flexing his toes against the worn hardwood floors as he debates which truth to tell.

“This past summer, my troupe was in some music videos for a couple bands doing a collaboration album. Part of our contract includes me and the younger members doing some performances when the bands do talk show interviews.” Kurt says, choosing the truth that carries the least risk if Mystique or the twins’ father catch wind of it, “In November they got booked for a show in New York. I and the others will be performing.” 

“You’ve performed in music videos?” Freddy asks.

“He does shit with a circus in the summer.” Todd answers, and Kurt’s heart thumps at the idea that the other mutant pays attention to the things he shares. 

“Your boyfriend has a big kid job, Toddles? You’re missing out on sugar baby opportunities here.” Pietro says. Wanda rolls her eyes at her brother while Freddy tilts his head like a lost dog, but Todd’s red face and scrunched mouth has Kurt slumping against the doorframe in laughter.

“I am enjoying our relationship not being a cash agreement, but I’m not exactly against being generous, liebling.” Kurt says, and recoils at the intensity of Todd’s scowl.

“I’m not with you for what you can buy me, dawg.” Todd snaps, “You’re more than your wallet.” 

“Clearly, you also possess plenty of bedroom experience, or alley experience anyway.” Pietro says and Kurt drops his face in his hands. 

He hears the thump of Wanda hitting her brother and Freddy’s reproachful tutting. Kurt cannot bring himself to look at Todd, who’s still and silent from his place on the back of the couch.

“Well, that confirms how much you heard.” Kurt says, dropping his hands to look ruefully at the other mutants, crossing his arms across his chest as he twists a bit in the doorway, shifting his face from them. 

“Why did he call you a hooligan?” Wanda asks, and Kurt flicks his eyes to her, the tension in his spine unwinding a bit with the change in subject. He can see a near smile on her lips and understands how she and Rogue have grown so close.

“I bet he doesn’t look both ways before crossing the street back in the old country.” Pietro says and Kurt goes with it, jumping on the dig as an easy out. It lets him avoid explaining the ways he lets loose the tension coiling along his spine on hot summer nights when his fists make a posh bigot think twice about going “mutie hunting” with his little party boy friends through the neighborhoods with the mutant friendly clubs and bars.

“You’ve caught me.” Kurt says holding up his hands, “When you can leap over cars, why bother looking who’s coming?” 

Todd jumps over the back of the couch to land neatly beside Kurt, hooking his arm in the blue mutant’s elbow. He has about a hundred questions all gridlocked at the tunnel where his brain and mouth meet, but can see the tension flickering up and down in the hitch of Kurt’s shoulders as Pietro and the others play twenty questions.

“Alright, phone call’s done, we have plans. You all can go about your fucking business now.” Todd says, “Don’t expect me back for dinner since apparently you feel I’m wasting my opportunities dating Mr. Moneybags.” 

Kurt laughs beside him, and when Todd looks up he freezes at the fondness in those glowing eyes.

“Where exactly am I taking you then?” Kurt asks. Todd blinks at him a minute before connecting his last sentence to Kurt’s question. 

“‘Dunno, surprise me, but let’s go before ‘Tro starts recommending fucking sex positions or some shit.” Todd says, and Kurt laughs. He catches Freddy’s startled guffaw and Wanda’s snicker over Pietro’s shrill offended squawk as Kurt ports them away. 

They reappear near the old playground a few blocks over, hidden against the massive trunk of a sprawling old oak. Kurt immediately slumps against it, dropping down to a crouch and groaning as he tips his head back. Todd follows him down, keeping their arms hooked loosely. After a moment, Kurt rolls his head to look at Todd in the fading twilight, lips twisted in a rueful smile. 

“Sorry. I hadn’t thought about how Stephy and I talk to each other when I told Pietro I didn’t care if you all listened.” He says, running a hand through his hair and ghosting out a breath, “I think I may have opened us up for a new avenue of teasing.”

Todd shrugs, the gesture jostling the blue mutant, “Nah, Lance and Tabby gave me a whole thing about wrapping it up and ‘sharing the responsibility’ with you when I first told them about us. Tabby said you go round carrying condoms. You’re not supposed to keep those in your wallet, dawg.” 

Kurt shifts, pulling out a compact round metal case from his back pocket, he pops it open and shows Todd a small stack of condoms in round bright wrappers tucked inside. “Ja, I know. They don’t get worn out this way.” 

Todd’s face floods with heat as he glances from the open condom holder to Kurt’s face, the memory of Stephan calling him Kurt’s “dirty boy” and the half heard details of Kurt’s apparent friendliness with pretty Euro-mutants all crashing together in his brain. Kurt seems to click on exactly how him carrying around condoms to hang out with Todd might look in this new light, because his eyes go round as twin moons and he fumbles the case shut and shoves it back in his pocket, his ears rapidly twitching up and down. 

“I, it’s a habit to carry them. I wasn’t. I wasn’t implying anything.” Kurt says and Todd cracks up. 

“Nah, a boy scout’s always prepared, right?” Todd asks, and Kurt snorts.

“I do not think I qualify for any boy scouts.” He says, “Do you want to go to that Thai place? The one with actually decent curry?” 

Kurt really doesn’t need to specify, since there are maybe three Thai restaurants in all Bayville, and only one of them is remotely decent. Thankfully Todd knows they agree on which one that is thanks to an earlier debate and ranking of all the places to get a meal that isn’t unflavored East Coast Americana in a bowl. Todd shrugs.

“Sure, sounds good, you buying, Daddy?” Todd asks, deliberately twisting his voice into a saccharine whine at ‘Daddy.’ The face Kurt makes, a waterfall of expressions flowing rapidly from bewildered to horrified to hilarity is worth it. He stumbles as he pulls them up to standing, looking down at Todd, who blinks wide eyed back up at him. Kurt cracks, laughter falling out of him as he slumps against Todd. 

“Please never call me that in that voice again.” He says, then stiffens as he feels Todd’s smirk against his ear.

“What voice should I call you ‘Daddy’ in then?” Todd asks, letting his tone drop to the one that usually makes babes slow down in the city when he calls out ‘hey’ and gives them a long slow look up and down when he catches them turning their heads to give him an interested look as they walk past. Kurt freezes beside him and panic bubbles in Todd’s chest, afraid he’s fucked up, but then Kurt makes a breathy noise that could be a laugh, edged with hysteria. 

“There is no answer to that.” He says, then ports them to the restaurant.

Todd waits til they’re seated and drinks are in front of them to bring up the conversation again. He absently wonders if the waitstaff are mutants themselves, with how fast their orders are taken and a Thai tea is dropped in front of Todd like they expected it. Then again, he orders nearly the same thing every time he can afford this place, so maybe it’s just memory. 

“You good, man?” He asks, and Kurt eyes flick to him from where they’d been watching the massive fish tank lit up with green fluorescent lights across the room. Kurt holds his stare a second before flopping back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head as he blows a breath out to the ceiling.

“It’s hard. To be so far away when things like this happen. I feel so useless.” He says, tipping his head down to look at Todd. The amphibious mutant gives him a lopsided smile, hooking his feet on either side of Kurt’s where the blue mutant’s stretched his legs out under the table.

“What, sad you can’t fill the shithead’s Vespa exhaust pipe with insulation foam?” Todd says and feels lighter when Kurt huffs a little laugh, shaking his head.

“Among other things.” He says, sitting back up and thanking the waiter when their food is set in front of them. He waves off the offer of chopsticks with a rueful look and polite no, digging into his green curry with a spoon instead. “No. I’d love to bloody the bastard’s nose, but that would be helping myself, not Stephy.” 

Todd slurps up a mouthful of drunken noodle, watching the sharp lines of the blue mutant’s face as Kurt’s occupied searching for the meaning of life in the pale soupiness of his dinner. He thinks of how swiftly the blue mutant dodged Duncan in the hallway, all the vicious, frenetic fights between him and Todd.

“How many poor schmucks piss themselves back home when they see you turn a corner, fuzz?” Todd asks and Kurt laughs. 

“Oh, not many. I try to keep my face hidden, so they’re never sure if they’re safe.” He says, “Makes them less likely to pull shit again, if they never know which mutant is the one that dropped their asses in the dumpster.” 

A thrill runs down Todd’s spine, imagining all that rage and intensity Kurt’s launched his way over the years directed some other asshole’s way, getting to see the tiger’s teeth without worrying about their bite. He covers the tangled ball of feelings rising in his throat by shoving a mouthful of noodles big enough to choke on in his mouth. Kurt shoots him a concerned, confused look when Todd squeaks and rapidly gulps his drink to try and push the lump down. Todd waves him off. 

“What do you do with all that energy when you have to play good little X-Geek all year?” Todd asks, voice raspy as he catches his breath. Kurt smirks at him, dropping his chin on his fist.

“Well there was this little pain in the ass I had a lot of fun beating the snot out of, but recently we’ve called a truce.” He says and Todd’s dinner rolls around in his guts at how those gold eyes burn up at him through dark lashes.

“Funny, I remember an obnoxious lanky know it all I used to bounce off the pavement for the hell of it, but we called it quits too.” Todd says, and grins when he feels Kurt’s tail thump him in the leg.

“I’m not a know it all!” He says, then flinches as he catches himself falling right in the trap. 

“Which of us tried to explain how to open a fruit to the other?” Todd asks, and Kurt huffs. 

“Maybe I sometimes, presume too much.” He admits, long ears flicking back close to his head and Todd grips the table to keep from crowing. 

“Someone call your fucking Pope, fuzz. I think hell just froze over.” Todd says and Kurt rolls his eyes, snatching Todd’s tea up and stealing a sip. “Hey!” 

Kurt sticks his tongue out at Todd, it’s still covered in a milky orange film from the tea. Todd sticks his own tongue out, straight into the blue mutant’s curry and now Kurt’s the one whining like a first grader who lost his spot on the swings. Todd snaps several bites worth of food back into his mouth, licking his lips as sauce splatters across his chin. Kurt growls and snatches up the fork by his plate, clawing the sloppiest bite of noodles from Todd’s dish. Todd snaps half of it back with his tongue before it can reach the blue mutant’s mouth and feels a hum of satisfaction at the trail of spit that Kurt definitely eats along with his ill gotten noodles. Kurt’s fur fluffs as he swallows the bite, and Todd knows he tasted that spit. 

The waiter chooses that moment to appear with the check. Todd and Kurt both freeze. Kurt probably overcome with guilt at violating social decency or some shit, Todd with the fear of getting kicked out of the one place he can get a decent drunken noodle or thai fried rice in town. 

“Gentleman.” Is all the waiter says, but Todd can see a smile fighting the corners of his mouth as he slips away. 

Kurt flicks the little tray over to himself giving the check a glance before fishing out a handful of bills from his wallet and tucking them in place.

“I meant it, before.” Todd says, and Kurt’s looks up at him, “There ain’t nothing wrong with fucking for money, or paying money for fucking, but you don’t have to do that with me, and I don’t want to act like that’s what we are.” 

Kurt smiles, something guarded in the expression, like Todd’s holding out a gift Kurt expects him to snatch back the second he reaches for it. 

“I know.” He says, “Thank you.” 

Todd grunts, rolling his eyes and gagging a bit, “Don’t thank me, dawg, you’re the one who’s apparently a fucking video vixen.”

Kurt chokes on his drink, staring at Todd as he tries to mop up the spray of tea from the table in front of him, “A what?” 

“The hotties that shake their ass on camera while some guy sings about how he can fuck whoever he wants and own twelve houses or some shit.” Todd says. 

“I know you appreciate music and dance way too much to mean that in a bad way.” Kurt says, and Todd shrugs, “But I don’t think I count as that. I really wasn’t there to be pretty.” 

“Willing to call bullshit on that one, fuzz, where’re the videos at?” Todd asks, twirling the last of his food on his chopsticks, as much for play as actual eating purposes.

Kurt bites his lip, looking down at the soupy dregs of his curry as he smears his spoon around in it. “I got the performers’ early release discs like a week ago. Kitty had the idea for us to do a screening of it when the Morlocks come to town for Halloween.” 

Todd had heard some of the Morlock kids mentioning the party to Freddy the last time the Brotherhood had been in their space for one of the odd jobs Callisto let them do in exchange for supplies to fix up shit around the house. He hadn’t thought much about it, but knew the big mutant had sounded excited.

“That an invite to the premiere, blue?” Todd asks and Kurt shrugs.

“Only if you want it. The others too, though I’m sure they’ll be less interested.” Kurt says as they get up from the table. “Kitty actually has a cameo with Rogue since they came with me this summer, so Lance will probably want to see it for that.” 

“How the hell are you in an entire music video, but just shrug your shoulders like your boyfriend wouldn’t care about that?” Todd asks as they step out into the night air. Fall is creeping in, and he shivers a bit at the chill. A hoodie, already warmed with body heat, drops over his shoulders. 

He turns to glare at Kurt, who gives him a flat stare in return, “You’re an amphibian and you don’t bother bringing a sweater anywhere. I literally have a built in fur jacket. Take the hoodie.” 

Todd scrunches his nose at Kurt, but he just waves his tail at him as they amble down the street in the vague direction of the Brotherhood house. It’s maybe a half hour walk from here, Kurt could port them back in a second, but neither of them mention it. The shorter mutant sighs and shrugs into the hoodie, pleased that it’s not as loose on him as he expected. He ignores the pleasant shiver down his neck at how Kurt’s smell drifts up from the plaid purple fabric. 

“I’m not an amphibian, I’m apparently a grunge marsh fairy or some shit.” Todd says, smile turning sly as he cuts a glance at Kurt from the corner of his eye. The blue mutant’s fur fluffs up and his shoulders creep towards his ears. 

“Of course you heard that.” He says that huffy put upon tone creeping into his voice, sounding less embarrassed and more like Todd’s asked him to get the remote that’s out of reach.

“Heard that you need your eyes checked, fuzz if you think I look like some kinda aquatic tinkerbell.” Todd says, then shivers as the wind kicks up. He flips up the hood and Kurt bites his lip, giving him a weird look like he’s trying not to laugh. Todd raises an eyebrow at him, mouth twisting in suspicion that the taller mutant’s about to make a crack about the cold again but Kurt shakes his head.

“I think we have different ideas about what fairies are like.” Kurt says, “The ones I know of are a lot less Tinkerbell and a lot more lure you into the woods to make you dance til you pass out or eat you, things like that.” 

Todd looks up at the moon half peeking out at them from behind the clouds, humming to himself. He and Kurt walk shoulder to shoulder, close enough that their arms brush as their steps match each other’s, Todd’s bouncing strut to Kurt’s sinuous amble. 

“Making people dance til they pass out sounds fucking hilarious.” Todd says, shifting from walking into dance, letting his feet glide along the pavement as he drops his hips and flows his arms and hands out in a series of fast pops and locks “Imagine making someone krump in the middle of one of those mushroom circles.” 

Kurt gives a delighted giggle, grabbing one leg to do a hopping shimmy for several steps “Enchanting someone to do that frat boy leg kick thing til they fall over.” 

“Doing that fucking sock hop shit in the middle of the woods.” Todd shoots back, wobbling his knees real fast before holding out a hand to Kurt, who grabs it with a laugh and a high kick, whirling with Todd down the sidewalk. 

They dance their way down several blocks, one of them naming a dance style for them both to flow into. Todd shows Kurt breakdancing moves, dropping to the pavement and doing a fast hovering spin on one hand that Kurt shoots a million questions at him over. They nearly kick over a mailbox launching into swing steps, Kurt flipping Todd up and around him in a way that makes Todd’s heart skip. Todd gives Kurt the pointers he’d learned from Freddy around the two step and Kurt shows him steps from a fast sinuous dance that combines a bunch of rapid small steps and kicks with wide and high arm motions. 

They vogue together at one point, jumping over each other and rolling into drops on the pavement and Todd feels a little thrill that Kurt’s heard of ballroom culture. Then Kurt grabs his hand and spins them into a tango that Todd twists into a bachata that becomes a ballet that becomes bhangra and spins into a polka. Kurt dips Todd so low his head almost touches the sidewalk, tail wrapped around the leg Todd has kicked up in the air. They hold each other’s stare affecting looks of utmost seriousness before one of them snickers and then they both crack, dissolving into laughter. They huddle together a moment before pulling apart, continuing their stroll home.

They’re like a block away from the Brotherhood house when Kurt slows down, pace lagging in a way that makes Todd shoot him a curious look and stop short.

“Sup dawg?” Todd asks, then groans when Kurt tilts his head up to look at the sky.

“A billion brilliant burning balls of gas that we can’t see because of verdammt light pollution?” Kurt says, tipping his head to look at Todd with a raised eyebrow, expression barely visible under the streetlight.

“Cute. But doubt that’s why you’re suddenly dragging ass.” Todd says.

“You don’t know, I am very concerned about environmentalism.” Kurt says, then sobers, “ I know Stephy joked about my” Kurt feels around for a word, waving a hand through the air, “friendlier habits back home. I don’t want that to make things awkward for you, with the other Brotherhood kids.” 

The blue mutant says it casually, but he’s hunched in on himself like his shoulders are a wall between them. He keeps his eyes on the sky and Todd curses Pietro’s big mouth. He grabs Kurt’s wrist and swerves for the dinky playground they ported to earlier, dragging Kurt over to the rusted swing set and shoving him towards one swing as he takes the other.

Kurt wishes he’d kept his mouth shut. Irritation creeps in over the laughter in Todd’s face from their dance home and shame worms around in Kurt’s guts as Todd tows him over to the swings and plops down on one.

“Don’t push me off if you get annoyed at me.” Todd says with a smirk, startling a laugh out of Kurt who drops down on his own swing.

“Promise not to interrupt my friends every five minutes and we’ll see.” Kurt says kicking off lazily.

“Is that what happened?” Todd asks with a chuckle.

“There’s like, a whole group of us and all summer, if Stephy paid attention to any of us for longer than a sentence this kid would poke him and yammer in his ear.” Kurt says, “He’s lucky I couldn’t port yet, I would have dropped him on one of the fishing boats.” 

Todd looks at him as they pass one another, Kurt swinging back, Todd forward, “You couldn’t always port?” 

“Did I seem like I had fifteen years of control when we first met?” Kurt asks. 

“I didn’t ask if you were competent, I’ve already seen that for myself.” Todd says, ducking when Kurt swings out an arm to swat him as they pass, “Oop, case in point. Good aim, fuzzy.” 

Kurt growls, but doesn’t put any real animosity into it, “I was fourteen when I ported. It’s how the professor found me, apparently.” 

He lapses into silence, gripping the cool chains of the swing tight to keep himself from falling backwards into memories of angry voices and the searing heat of fire against his feet. He sucks in a breath, reminding himself that there’s no smoke in the air, no lash at his back.

“I don’t care who you fool around with dawg, past or present tense.” Todd says, and Kurt’s grateful for the shift in subject, whether intentional or not, “I'm not exactly a choir boy either, yo.”

“I think you'd need to go to a church more than once to qualify for that.” Kurt says, grinning at Todd.

“And give another old fuckin’ lady a chance to drag my soul to hell? No thanks, I’ll stick to half-assedly remembering my holidays and using them as excuses to eat fried shit.” Todd says and Kurt laughs, “My point is, you're not some kind of scandalous harlot for rolling in alleys with hotties, or if you are, then so am I.”

“Ja? You spend time rolling around in alleys?” Kurt asks, tail weaving behind him as he flails a bit to recover his balance, trying not to blend together his own outdoor adventures with the memory of Todd rolling them in the hammock his lips kiss bitten and eyes ablaze with the same intensity they showed in their fights.

“I mean, New York doesn't have alleys, so mostly rooftops and parks, but yeah dawg.” Todd says, adding more quietly, his shoulders hunching as he swings, “That so hard to believe?”

“That's why the city looks so verdammt weird, I couldn't figure it out for ages.” Kurt says, thinking of the too new towering buildings all pressed against one another. He catches Todd’s eyes as their arcs overlap, “It is not hard to believe.”

Todd snorts, “You don’t have to humor me, dawg. I know even the guys are surprised at how often someone looks twice at my weird looking ass, least Lance and ‘Tro, though they don’t say it.” 

Kurt shakes his head, swing wobbling a bit with the motion and he shifts to rebalance, “You're strange, but that is not the same thing as ugly. Why wouldn't people be interested in seeing more of you on the occasional rooftop?”

Todd jolts on his swing, twisting to look at Kurt as he kicks out of sync in a way that makes the chains buck and weave. Kurt fur fluffs up as his face grows hot, but he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out, holding Todd’s stare. He knows too well the aching cold of wanting to be wanted and believing no one ever will, and the angry hot shame when someone finally does and everyone laughs it off with jokes about unusual tastes. He refuses to make this a joke. The shorter mutant stays silent, his eyes drifting away from Kurt to look up at the sky, but his lips shift from that tight self-deprecating grimace into the ghost of a smile. 

“Still though, what are you comfortable doing together?” Kurt says, then catches himself and fumbles, “I mean, what are you fine with others thinking we're doing?” 

“Shit, any old thing, I'm not picky.” Todd says, “You really think anyone’s gonna care about that?” 

Kurt hums, a bitterness rising in his throat, “Where there is disbelief there’s also fascination. We’re a strange pair, it brings up strange questions.”

Todd sucks his teeth, “‘Tro’s made some pretty wild jokes to Tabby before she threatened to blow those weird little cowlicks of his off. People said some buck wild shit ‘bout you and that Amanda chick after your big blue debut too.”

Kurt growls, old anger rising at the memory of catching Amanda crying with friends in the hallway, at the whispers about whether his mutation was why they broke up, or had been why they even dated in the first place, and what might be wrong with her for wanting a boy like him. 

“Amanda wanted to wait for when she was married. I respect that. So much is tied up in what you do and with who, I didn't want something so private and important to her to be public whispers.” Kurt says, kicking higher to get rid of the tension running through his veins.

“Shit dawg, the way you yelled that day in the hall, I think you cut that rumor mill down to the fucking foundation.” Todd says, and Kurt catches him peeking at him from the corner of his eye, “I'm kinda surprised you’re not the waiting type furball, thought sky daddy disapproved of canoodling.” 

Kurt tips forward giggling, “How do you have the filthiest mouth, und then say shit like ‘canoodling’ to talk about sex?” 

“It’s about the timing, dawg. Sometimes the moment calls for fucking and sometimes it called for a canoodle.” Todd says like he’s explaining a fancy wine menu.

Kurt rolls his eyes at the amphibious mutant. He kicks himself as high as he can go before letting go on the upswing, somersaulting through the air as momentum sends him flying. He twists to land at the edge of the sandbox, facing Todd. 

“You still haven’t answered me about what’s okay if someone asks about our supposed ‘canoodling’” Kurt says and Todd rolls his eyes, leaping off his own swing, flipping twice to Kurt’s single roll through the air before landing beside the blue mutant.

“Show off.” Kurt says, but he’s biting his cheek to cover a smile. 

Todd gives him a smug look, following as Kurt wanders over to the old roundabout, hopping on it as Kurt grabs one of the metal rails and begins to turn it. 

“I said, fuzz, I’m down for whatever. I ain’t a picky eater whether it’s food or ass on the table.” Todd says with a leer and Kurt yelps a laugh, taking several breaths to steady himself before he challenges Todd. 

“So if someone implies that we fuck on the ceiling, you’re fine with that?” He asks, spinning Todd a little faster. The amphibious mutant is unphased, leaning casually on one of the faded metal rails. He shoots Kurt a look as he comes back around to face him.

“I mean, why the hell wouldn’t we?” Todd asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you spose we’d fall off?” Kurt asks, face heating, “I uh, may have tried some things and my grip slips a bit when I get distracted.” 

“Ooooh good point. I’m still here for the risk, yo. “ Todd says, grinning at Kurt in a way that makes the blue mutant’s heart jump, before the shorter mutant catches himself, floundering, “I mean, I would be.”

“What if someone implies you’re the bottom?” Kurt asks, jumping on the roundabout now that he’s satisfied with the speed. He and Todd both lean out, trying to keep the momentum rolling by weaving their weight back and forth.

“Then they’re fucking boring. Because I’m not about to play one hole the rest of my life.” Todd says and Kurt squeaks at the phrasing, trying to hold in his laughter, “Not that there’s anything wrong if you do, Power Bottoms for Jesus.” 

“The shirt was too good to pass up, but is less than accurate. I cannot ‘play one hole’ either.” Kurt says, not that he’s had a lot of experience outside the hypothetical in that department. 

“Wait, what kinda shit have we done with each other? Or are chill acting like we have?” Todd asks like he senses Kurt’s thoughts. 

Kurt hums, dropping into a crouch between two of the rails as he thinks. Todd hops up to balance on one of the rails wobbling the roundabout. He looks down at Kurt like he’s one of those mystery prize balls and he isn’t sure what he’s hoping for. 

“I actually haven’t done that yet. I mean, been inside someone or had them inside of me that way.” Kurt says, waving his hands through the air “It sounds like a lot you know?” 

“Sure looks like a lot anyway.” Todd says, rubbing the back of his head, “Me neither, I’ve come close a couple times, but always end up doing something else. Still good though, just, not all that.” 

“What do we say if someone asks us about it?” Kurt asks and snorts at the incredulous look Todd gives him as the roundabout winds down to a stop.

“We tell ‘em to mind their fucking business, fuzz, goddamn.” Todd says, “You give people fucking play by plays?” 

Kurt laughs, leaning on the railing to stay upright. “Nein, I am not big about sharing private details. Let people wonder.” He rephrases his question, “What if Tabby asks us something though?” 

Todd whistles through his teeth a sound that swoops high before dropping into a twirling note like a bird, Kurt’s ears flicker in response and Todd smirks at him. The blue mutant swats Todd’s leg and the shorter mutant hardly shifts, as unbothered as a pigeon on a line. 

“Hadn’t thought about that one.” Todd says, “You think Forge is right? That she knows we’re playing everybody?” 

Kurt shrugs, “It wouldn’t surprise me, but she’s also the type to let us make fools of ourselves pretending in front of her.” 

Todd grunts, lips quirking in a grin, “Yeah, she would.” 

They sit in silence a moment, the duet of the cicadas and night birds filling the air around them. 

“You like giving head dawg?” Todd asks, the question dropping between them like an anvil and Kurt hisses as he slams his tail against the rails in a funny way. He rubs the bruised limb, pretending to check for scrapes to avoid looking at Todd.

He makes a noise that is more a squawk than a yes, clearing his throat and trying again when Todd looks at him funny. Todd nods when Kurt manages to make a sound that’s recognizable as human speech. 

“Cool, me too. Let’s go with that then.” Todd says and Kurt frantically shoves the images his brain conjures under the rugs and into the cupboards of his brain before he can look at them too closely. 

“‘Kay.” He squeaks, and Todd gives him a knowing look that makes his fur stand on end. Kurt fights the urge to look away from those marbled eyes glowing in the dark, feeling like they’re competing again. 

“How do you feel about rope?” Kurt asks and Todd blinks wobbling a bit on his perch.

“Anal sex feels like ‘a lot’ but you’re into fuckin’ bondage dawg?” Todd asks, like Kurt’s opened a portal to another dimension right in front of him.

Kurt holds Todd’s stare, his shoulders tight as he shrugs, “A lot is relative. Und rope stuff can kinda be horsing around, you know?” 

“I mean, I don’t really, not in a hands on sense. But I ain’t saying I haven’t thought about it.” Todd says and Kurt can see his face flush in the dim light of the street lamps. 

“I have some books, if you’re curious.” Kurt says, tail fiddling around with a stray stick on the roundabout’s platform. He shoots Todd a look from under his lashes, afraid he’s crossed the line from ‘casual kind of friends’ into ‘no Kurt that’s weird, you’re gross’ territory. 

“Weren’t kidding about being kinky in the ways I hadn’t guessed, huh?” Todd asks and Kurt’s fur fluffs. The amphibious mutant’s stare falls heavy over Kurt, in ways that make goosebumps prickle along his arms, “Yeah, sure. Lemme borrow your bondage manuals, blue.” 

Kurt nods, buying his brain time to make words again, “Ja, cool.” 

Todd smirks, but there’s something shy lingering in his eyes, “Cool.”

They lapse into silence again, letting the sounds of the night roll over them for several moments.

“Wanna spin this thing one more time real fast?” Kurt asks.

“Oh baby, you know it.” Todd says and they each grab a rail and run, dragging the ancient squeaking roundabout as fast as it can go. 

They keep the pace up for several rounds, building the momentum before they lock eyes and jump on, giggling. The speed pushes Todd’s shoulder into Kurt’s and their heads bang together. Kurt turns to face Todd, but his apology dies on his lips at how close they are, how vibrant the dappled markings on Todd’s face are under the moonlight. The laugher in Todd’s expression slips, something open and wanting flickering there as the red blooms in his eyes. Kurt sways forward but then there’s a shout and the harsh glare of a flashlight from the edge of the park. 

“Hey! This park is closed an hour after sundown! You need to leave.” An adult shouts and Kurt can see the glint of a badge on a broad man’s hip as the figure makes his way towards the park gate. 

“Are you serious?” Kurt whispers and Todd snorts. 

“Shit yeah he is, the cops will find any reason to hassle you in this part of town.” Todd says as Kurt wraps his tail around the amphibious mutant’s calf and a hand around Todd’s bicep “Better beam us up, Scotty.” 

They land in a pile in the Brotherhood entryway, dizzy from the spin and the abrupt change in scenery. Todd collapses against Kurt, laughing as the other mutant shakes with mirth beside him.

“Why does everything close so verdammt early in this country? Who cares if someone’s using a playground at night?” Kurt asks.

“The cops said fuck all those little vampire children, no swings for them.” Todd says and Kurt laughs harder, forehead pressing to Todd’s shoulder.

“The fuck is wrong with you dweebs?” Pietro asks, leaning over the back of the couch to stare at them, he bursts into laughter the second he catches sight of Todd, “Thinking of stealing Kitty’s name there, Toddles?” He asks.

Todd whips around to shoot a suspicious glare at Kurt, who smirks at him and gestures like he’s pulling a hood down from his head. Todd’s hands fly up to grab at the top of the hood. His fingers find two triangles of fabric sticking out of the top and he yanks the hood down, craning his neck to look at the offending fabric. Sure enough, there are two purple cat ears lined with fuzzy black fleece poking out from the top of the hood. Todd looks back up at Kurt, instead of cowed by Todd’s attempt to set fire to him with his mind, the blue mutant is shaking with barely held in laughter, fangs digging into his lower lip as he bites it.

“You let me walk all the way back here with this fucking hood up and didn’t tell me?” Todd asks, stepping forward, and Kurt takes a step sideways, shifting out of Todd’s range.

“You didn’t notice the paw pads embroidered on the hand sleevey things?” He asks, the question garbled around his laughter. 

Todd flips the little glove things built into the end of the sleeves back over his hands, groaning when sure enough, there are shiny purple cartoon paw pads stitched where his palms are. 

“What the fuck, dawg?” Todd asks, voice flat and Kurt breaks into laughter. “Why do you have this?”

“You know, nyah?” Kurt asks, holding his hands up behind his head and tipping them forward like cat ears. In the living room, Pietro dissolves into shrieking laughter over Freddy’s little hiccuping giggle.

Todd snaps, lunging after Kurt, who bolts, leaping onto the hallway wall and launching himself into the living room. Todd gives chase, snatching up one of the ever-growing number of throw pillows from the sofa, ignoring Pietro’s indignant squawk. He chucks it at Kurt, and the blue mutant cackles, catching it as it bounces off his shoulder and launching it back at Todd. Todd swats the pillow away from his face, ignoring Wanda’s warning grunt as it flies in her direction, intent on catching the blue tacky menace sticking his tongue out at Todd from across the room. Todd lunges. Kurt attempts to vault off the couch behind Freddy, diving down to use the taller mutant as cover. 

Todd thumps into him before he can get back in the air, boosting himself with one foot braced on the big blond’s shoulder. Freddy grunts a complaint, but Todd’s too busy slamming Kurt down onto the old planks they’ve bolted to a wooden electrical spool as a coffee table. Kurt tries to flip them, but Todd slams his stomach down against the taller mutant’s before he can wedge his legs between them and do that goddamn rabbit-kicky thing. Kurt growls as Todd pins his hands down, but he’s fighting a smile, blue lips twitching up at the corners.

There’s a breathless laugh from the doorway and Todd turns to see Kitty collapsed against Lance, who’s watching Todd with that carefully blank face he usually only gets when trying not to laugh in front of the boss. 

“Oh my God,” Kitty gasps, grip slipping on Lance’s arm so her fingers start phasing through him a bit, “You gave him the cat hoodie?” 

Todd glances down at Kurt where the blue mutant’s still lying pinned beneath him and Kurt’s smiling up at him, face lit up with laughter. His hair is a wild cloud around his face and Todd’s brain stalls out a moment as he falls into that breathless, joyful expression, the glow in those gold eyes. He squeezes his hands around Kurt’s wrists, shifting his knees on the table to try and ground himself because he swears he’s about to drift up through the ceiling. Then Kurt blinks, seeming to shake himself, the dreaminess slipping out of his face as his smile twists into a smirk.

“I found it on the clearance rack in that goth mall store that has all the rude cartoon animal shirts.” Kurt says and Kitty guffaws in the doorway. 

“No, you found it on the clearance rack, put it on, and proceeded to chase Evan, Rogue, and I around the store making cat noises until I laughed so hard I almost phased into the food court on the lower floor.” Kitty says and Kurt turns to look at her. 

Todd's eyes run up the long line of his lean blue neck, catching on the sharp curve of his jaw and he wonders if Kurt’s face has always been so striking or if it’s his grown-up self starting to surface from the lanky softness of teenagerness. Wanda snorts from her armchair in the corner of the room and Todd’s eyes dart up to see her watching him, lips tilted in a knowing smirk that makes his face heat. Below him, Kurt’s laughing, apparently unaware of Todd’s internal crisis over his jawline. 

“Remember Scott’s face when I ported next to him with the hood up and the little paw things over my hands?” He asks, shaking with laughter.

“He went so red, I thought he was gonna choke to death.” Kitty says, falling harder against Lance, who shifts to hold her up, his face soft and fond, “The way he fell out of his chair when you kept meowing at him.” 

Kurt’s laughing in that hiccuping way now, twisting under Todd, “And then Tabby and Evan started doing it! I thought he might explode.” 

Kitty lunges forward, pointing, “No. No. Jean.” Kurt’s head thumps back against the table as he seems to give up completely on words, dissolving into soundless laughter as his tail slaps against Todd’s legs. 

Todd shoots a bewildered look at Lance, who only shrugs. Pietro looks just as confused, hands still gripping the throw pillow he’d probably been preparing to chuck at Todd’s head before Kitty and Lance’s return interrupted him. Freddy looks quietly knowing though, biting his lip the way he does when he has a surprise for one of the other Brotherhood members and doesn’t want them to know but also really really does. 

“What did Grey do?” Wanda asks, looking over at Kitty, her book abandoned in her lap. 

Kitty sucks in a gasping breath, pulling herself together as she stands away from Lance, raising one hand. “Scott finally stops laughing and had just, like, dragged himself back into his chair, and Jean just turns to look at him, her face completely straight and goes ‘Nyah.’” Kitty curls her hand next to her face, affecting Red’s composed knowing expression as she mimics that teasing ‘I’m an adult’ voice the psychic always has. 

The impression is so dead-on, Todd cracks, imagining the statuesque, serious mutant looking laser eyes in the face and making that weird fucking cat noise at him. He slumps forward, forehead resting in the gap between Kurt’s head and his arm still pinned by Todd’s hand. Todd loses his grip and instead of yanking himself free, Kurt’s hand comes up to cup the back of Todd’s head, his own laugh warm in Todd’s ear. 

“You saw that horrendous disaster and decided to buy it?” Pietro asks, 

Todd feels Kurt shrug, “Sometimes, fashion is comedy.” 

“Okay, but you can’t pin your boyfriend to the table Toddles, we eat here.” Lance says, and Kurt shoots him a sly look that makes a shiver run down Todd’s spine.

“Yet you and Katzchen have no problem taking over the couch for your own purposes.” Kurt says and Todd can’t hold back the giggling squeal he makes at how Lance flushes down to his neck.

“We don’t. We weren’t. You can’t prove anything.” Lance says and Todd wheezes as Pietro makes a disgusted noise and jumps off the couch, Freddy looks down at the worn upholstery with a resigned sigh. Wanda’s raspy snicker drifts from the corner of the room. She’s picked her book up again, but her head’s tilted in the way it does when she’s still listening to the others talk.

“Why can’t you let me pretend I don’t know these things?” The mohawked mutant asks, fingers plucking dejectedly at the couch cushion.

“Uh, Lancey, unless Kit Kat was giving you a makeover with her eyes closed holding the lip gloss with her feet, I think we have demonstrable evidence.” Todd drawls then yelps as Pietro chucks the pillow he’s holding at them. Kurt catches it before it can smack into Todd’s face and the amphibious mutant tries to squish the little warm squirmy feeling that gives him. 

“No more fucking on communal furniture.” Pietro says, affecting that ‘I’m the boss because daddy says so’ voice he uses that makes it sound like he has a head cold.

“We weren’t fucking.” Lance says at the same time Todd swears he hears Kitty mutter, “That time at least.” 

Kurt sighs, sitting up and pulling Todd with him so the shorter mutant ends up crouched in his lap, “This is not structurally sound anyway.” 

“Yeah, you’ve got a long enough record for property damage, blue.” Todd says, leering up at Kurt and the blue mutant laughs fluffing up in that way that makes Todd want to squeeze him, “Probably oughta choose more stable surfaces.”

“You’ll have to test the structural soundness of furniture later guys, we have to head back.” Kitty says, and Todd hears that same tightness in her voice Kurt had the other day in the lab.

Kurt stills underneath him, his hands tensing where they’re resting on Todd’s hips. 

“Man, I thought morning drills would be canceled since we have a late start tomorrow.” Kurt whines, head falling back as Kitty groans. “It’s like he’s allergic to letting us sleep in.”

“Actually later starts are better for teenage development.” Freddy says. Kitty and Kurt both turn to stare at him, while the Brotherhood kids are unphased, used to the big mutant’s random facts since he started the psych classes at school, “What? We talked about it in class, it’s a best practice.” 

“Try convincing General Logan of that.” Kitty says before turning back to Kurt, “Mind taking us home? Jean texted me a warning Logan’s totally waiting to bust us if we miss curfew.” 

Kurt glances at his watch, “Which is in ten minutes.”

He looks up at Todd, lips twisting like he’s genuinely disappointed to leave and Todd’s heart skips a beat. Kurt sighs, leaning up and Todd sways down, trying not to combust as they meet in the middle in a lingering, closed-mouth kiss. Pietro mutters something about the sanctity of furniture from where he’s still hovering irritably off to the side and Todd flicks him the bird as he and Kurt part. 

“I’ll sleep in til the last possible second in your honor.” He says, and Kurt shoves him as Todd hops off his lap. 

“Don’t rub it in.” Kurt grumbles and Todd shoots him a filthy smirk. 

“That’s not what you said before.” He says, grinning as Kurt’s mouth falls open in an incredulous laugh.

“Oh god, nope. Not doing this.” Kitty says, pulling Lance into a kiss before phasing through the couch to grab Kurt’s arm, “Come on, before our carriage turns into a pumpkin.” 

“I think I’m the carriage here, so there’s a lot of problems with that metaphor.” Kurt says and Kitty smacks him. The blue mutant’s eyes land on Todd’s and he blows the shorter mutant a kiss as he ports them away.

Todd fiddles with the hoodie’s sleeves, snorting as he looks at the embroidered paw pads. Pietro darts up to him and flips the hood back over his head and Lance chuckles.

“Can’t believe you walked around all night like that.” Freddy says, shoulders shaking as he holds in a giggle, Todd looks up, locking eyes with the bigger mutant. He pulls the absurd little paw flaps over his hands, raising them next to his face. 

“You know, Nyah, bitch.” He says, and the rest of the Brotherhood loses it.

Chapter Text

“That little nuisance is here, isn’t she?” Mystique growls, stalking towards where a giggle slipped under the closed door of the hall bathroom. The Brotherhood all lock wide terrified eyes. 

Lance snags Pietro before he can bolt in the bathroom’s direction, his knuckles white. Wanda twists to watch Mystique, her face carefully blank but her knuckles are pale where they grip the faded couch’s back. Freddy shoots Todd the wide-eyed look he gets when a maneuver fails and they have to figure out how to keep shit from blowing up in their faces, but Todd’s brain is all static, no madlib plan falling out from the nooks and crannies. 

Mystique had stomped up the front stairs already shouting and for once Todd’s grateful she is in one of her major moods. Kurt had been over with them to talk about some repairs around the Brotherhood place, lying sprawled next to Todd peering over a cooking magazine with Freddy. He occasionally tossed Todd terrible suggestions about what might be wrong with the microwave the amphibious mutant had salvaged for the Brotherhood kitchen and was trying to get working again. As soon as they heard the boss bellowing, rather than teleport away, he’d grabbed Tabby’s hand when she scurried up from her place on the couch with Wanda and Pietro and they’d gone running into the hall bathroom together. 

He and Todd had talked about what to do about Mystique and the potential for her finding out about them. Todd had been on team “port today, live tomorrow” but Kurt thought they’d be better off if it seemed like Todd’s time was otherwise occupied. When Todd looked at the blue mutant like he had five heads, Kurt had only shaken his inducer, pointing out his default look wasn’t the only one he had. Todd felt like the plan was bound to shoot them in the feet, but just made Kurt promise not to have him dating that weird bodybuilder mod the mutant had in there.

As Mystique yanks open the bathroom door, Todd desperately hopes the furball changed his mind and ported out of there. A small part of him points out the smell and sound would be a dead giveaway, even in a bathroom. Tabby’s not alone when the door flies open. A tall, pale green-haired girl stumbles out with her. 

“Oop, sorry, were we holding up the line to the ladies’ room?” The girl says, in a voice too high and husky to be Kurt’s with an accent that immediately brings Jean to mind. Her dark green hair hangs over one eye as she turns to smile sarcastically at Mystique. Her plum lipstick is smudged, streaks of red the color of Tabby’s mixing into it. 

Mystique’s face scrunches up and she gives a little cough. Todd’s heart rockets into his chest as he remembers she has as sensitive a sense of smell as Todd’s weird tongue/nose situation is. But her expression only shows irritation and disgust, not that angry gloating look she gets whenever she catches the Brotherhood in any perceived deception. 

The green-haired girl turns to Tabby, frowning, “I told you this perfume is awful.”

“Vana, it’s Essence of the Goddess, it’s going to be a powerful scent.” Tabby says, sliding past Mystique like she’s oil under the woman’s glare, the way she always does. 

“Tabs, if any goddess smells like Vicks VapoRub, I’m taking her to a doctor.” ‘Vana’ says, and Todd remembers the little rollerball bottle of menthol Tabby whips out whenever they smoke weed at lunch, the one she claims is for migraines when the teachers grimace at the overpowering scent.

Vana floats right after Tabby, drifting around Mystique like she’s used to seeing blue women who wear skulls in their hair every day. Her clothes are only a little different from Kurt's. The cuffed jeans have a whiskered pattern and end higher up her leg like capris. Her cropped shirt is plain black instead of the euro band t-shirt Todd didn’t recognize, the hoodie vest over it is a deep purple instead of mint green. There’s no watch on her wrist, but she’s wearing a wide floral choker around her neck. 

“You two need to leave.” Mystique says. 

Rather than immediately scurry to grab her things still abandoned next to Todd, Vana pouts at him. Todd can’t get himself to look away, even as he hears Pietro give a faint hysterical giggle and the soft thud and hiss that follows when Lance undoubtedly punches him to shut him up. 

“I guess you have to go do your scary mob job now.” Vana says as she drops down next to Todd, scooping up her stuff. 

“Mob job?” Freddy asks, voice squeaking. 

“Vana keeps coming up with new theories about why none of you will say what you do, and why no adults ever come around here.” Tabby says. 

Vana shoves the book she’d been reading before joining Freddy in food photography criticism back into her bag, waving a hand in the air as she rattles off possibilities, “You’re all in witness protection, you’re all space aliens who each watched different movie genres to understand how humans actually behave, you’re part of the illuminati.  I mean really, being involved in some kind of gang shit is the most likely out of all of them.” 

She stands up, tossing her bag over her shoulder as she stands with her hip jutting out in a way that emphasizes the curves there. A paint swatch tumbles from the pocket of her hoodie, but she catches it. Todd recognizes it as one of the ones Tabby and Pietro had been flicking at each other on the couch earlier, Tabby must have had it when they fled to the bathroom. He catches a smear of purple, the same as Vana’s lipstick against the creamy yellows of the card before Vana tosses it at him.

“Try not to get shot up or anything playing war, yeah?” She says, winking, “Maybe next time we can have some fun.” 

“Have fun fighting the Men in Black!” Tabby says, as the two make their way to the front door, “My vote is still on space aliens!” 

“Don’t get mindwiped!” Vana calls, and then the front door slams and the Brotherhood is left alone with Mystique, the boys all frozen under her withering eye. Wanda relaxes back into her typical posture of irritated indifference, sparing the couch her continued death grip.

“You all can keep busy however you want when we aren’t using you.” Mystique says, sounding for all the world as if she’d caught them playing in the septic tank, “But remember what your mission is, and avoid any unnecessary incidents.” She turns the full force of her glare on Todd at this and he shrinks into a deeper crouch before he can stop himself, hand crushing the paint swatch Vana tossed his way. 

“Yeah boss, we know the score. You heard Vana, she doesn’t know about our mission.” Lance says, taking the alibi Kurt and Tabby wove into their distraction and drawing Mystique’s attention away, “What’s the game plan tonight?” 

Todd’s anxiety is sucked up into the vortex of mission mode, everyone slotting into their places and fretting over the best entry points into the facility they were meant to dismantle four hours from now. He forgets he’s still absently clutching the paint swatch in one hand until he gets back to his room to change. 

He tosses it on the bed before noticing his hand is smeared with black and the same plum of Vana’s lipstick. He glances back at the crumpled swatch and written in half smudged out eyeliner are the words `Don't Die’ with the four-digit emergency code Kitty made Lance swear to text her if a mission goes bad back when they first started dating. 

Even when the X-Geeks and Brotherhood were on their worst terms, Kurt apparently was willing to either teleport into danger or steal a plane to help rescue his bestie’s boyfriend and his team. Todd never considered that he and Kurt’s arrangement might expand the responsibility of the emergency code to him. A plum-colored, blurred lip print is next to the words. It’s not Tabby’s. Todd’s stomach does a little flip that he tries to tell himself is pre-mission jitters.

The mission goes ahead with minimal chaos, and the usual fire despite initial intentions to keep things on the down low. This mission was less of a slash and burn and more of an intelligence extraction, which meant the others had to buy time while Todd battering rammed his way through every firewall the place’s system had and ciphered everything over to a blackbox server Buckethead had him set up ages ago. Things were running smoothly if Freddy’s enthusiastic shouting and the shrieks of goons flying through the air mixed with Wanda’s happy growl and Pietro’s maniacal giggling were anything to go by. Then it turned out someone had set an analog tripwire Todd missed on the place’s computer bank. 

He’d had less than a minute to rip the explosive off the main computer and fling it into the cool dark of the base’s hopefully unpopulated server room, shouting for everyone to get the fuck out. The sparking red static of Wanda’s power had shot out to catch him as he lept back, folding him into the forcefield she held the rest of the Brotherhood in as the explosion blasted the base’s server room into a smoking hole. Wanda kept them from getting fried or having their ears blown out, but Todd still landed hard on his chin in his haste as the building rocked around them. The personnel that weren’t curled up on the floor of the base all started scrambling to put out the fires and salvage their shit, leaving the Brotherhood an easy opening to pull back. 

Todd half feared Mystique would shift into that writhing horrible form she’d taken that first time in her office as she tore him a new one for missing the bomb before he started cracking the system. The amphibious mutant scrunched down in his seat on the helicopter, toes curling in his boots as he let her words wash over her. The tongue lashing felt more deserved than usual as cold fear of what could have happened to the others if he hadn’t managed to wrench the box out from its hiding place and chuck it down into the open basement of the server room turned his bones to lead. He kept his eyes on the floor, even as Freddy nearly doubled over trying to catch his attention. Mystique only let up in her tirade when he gave her a quiet yes about whether the data transfer had completed before the explosion went off. She’d given him a backhanded good job before dropping down into her seat for the rest of the flight.

They trudge through the back door of the Brotherhood house close to dawn. Lance catches his arm before he can bound up the stairs, abandon his gear in a heap on the floor and slither under his covers to replay all the reasons he sucks until they have to get up for school in a couple hours, or more likely the day after next. Todd keeps his eyes on the faded wood floor, ignoring Wanda and Pietro’s hissing back and forth and the deafening sensation of Freddy’s silent fretting. 

“We have what we needed, despite your sloppiness tonight.” Mystique says as she glides past them all, making a beeline for the stairs, “Clean yourselves up, you’re done for now.” Then she vanishes into the dark upstairs hallway and there’s the faint click of the lock on her door.

“Are you okay?” Freddy says, practically scooping Todd up off the floor by his armpits, twisting him this way and that like he does the stray cats in the alley when one of them comes limping back from a fight. 

Todd grumbles, tipping his face away from Freddy’s watery worried stare. His chin throbs with heat where he hit it, and he can feel the crustiness of dried blood there when his lips twist into a snarl. He wants to kick his way out of Freddy’s grip, but hot shame twists in his gut at the thought of hurting the other boy on top of everything else tonight.

Below them, Pietro gives a low whistle, peering up at Todd, “You look like the pears that have been out all week at the Save A Lot after a few people have knocked over the fruit display.” 

Todd gives him the finger.

“Are we gonna have to fish you out from under your bed to clean that up if Freddy lets you down?” Lance asks, shaking his hair out as he pulls off his salad bowl helmet. 

Todd gives up on glaring the ceiling into submission, turning his glower on his teammates as he swallows the urge to hiss. A little croaking growl slips from his throat without his permission.

“That’s a yes.” Wanda says. 

Then they’re all traipsing into Freddy’s ground floor bedroom, because it has the biggest bathroom in the house barring Mystique’s and serves as their first aid base so they don’t have to worry about carrying Freddy up the stairs if he’s too hurt to walk. They’ve been doing repairs on it recently, and now the pipes only whistle a little bit when they turn the hot water up too high too quickly. The big mutant’s reclining bed often serves as their triage cot where they strip out of their layers and patch each other up as the last of their adrenaline shakes off.

Freddy sets Todd down on the corner of his bed. His hands hovering a foot away like he expects Todd to make a leap for it now that he’s loose. If Todd’s head didn’t feel like a split cantaloupe, and all his joints weren’t starting to ache with that hollow feeling they got once the adrenaline ran dry, he’d consider it. Pietro blurs away and returns with a stack of frozen veggie bags, plopping them on a towel Wanda’s tossed on the bed. 

“Get your shit off.” Lance says, mainly directed at Todd as all the others have started their routine ‘dump your entire kit in the big mission complete laundry bag in Freddy’s closet.’ 

When Wanda’d first joined them, the boys had all hesitated to strip down to their underwear in front of her after a mission, but then she’d rolled her eyes and growled at them to grow up, jerking off her jumpsuit and stuffing it in the hamper and they’d all gotten over it rather than face the storm of her irritation. 

“Bedroom talk like that, Lancey, no wonder the Kit-Kat swoons over you.” Todd grumbles, but obliges, sighing and rolling his neck as he snaps off his torso armor. 

“Oh good, you’re not concussed.” Pietro says, “I was worried you’d gone mute from some kind of brain trauma.” 

Wanda’s eyes pierce straight through him, and Todd grips the faded Captain America comforter Freddy uses as a foot blanket to keep from covering his chest, wishing he had more on than his faded grey briefs, though everyone else is just as bare. 

“Not mute, guilty.” Wanda says. 

“What could I possibly have to feel guilty about?” Todd drawls, pulling at a loose thread in the woven blanket beneath the Captain America comforter, until Freddy makes a soft fussy noise and Todd tucks his hands in his lap. “I just nearly blew everyone all up to fuck. No biggie.” 

Lance gives that frustrated pissy sigh he does through his nose, like he’s a beleaguered fishwife with fifteen children as he settles down on a stool in front of Todd and cracks open the first aid kit. He plucks up the antiseptic and pats it against Todd’s busted chin. He uses the same efficient, gentle touches he always does, and Todd swallows as his throat feels tight. He wishes the other boy would scrub at the cut, make it sting worse.

“Yeah, you really played fast and wreckless with our lives there. Which is why you’re the only one who came away bleeding, while the rest of us have no more than a few bruises.” Pietro says as he tosses Wanda and Freddy bags of peas and corn respectively. Freddy sighs and puts his over his knuckles, Wanda drops hers on her leg as she settles down next to Todd on the bed, before picking up another bag and smacking it on her brother’s shoulder.

“Honestly, another fifty guys had started swarming down the hallway towards us, so the explosion did us a favor.” Freddy says, accent thick and tone matter of fact in the way he gets when he’s too tired to keep up the southern polite ‘I will take five left turns to get to the root of what I mean’ habit. 

Todd’s eyes flick up to Lance’s face at that, finally coming up from studying his own knobby knees. Lance looks tired, but there’s the laxness of relief creeping into the edges of his expression, familiar in a way that makes Todd’s shoulders loosen just a bit as his brain starts to sink into the idea that the mission is done and everyone’s really alive. The taller mutant smirks at him and nods. 

“Freddy’s right. Soon as that blast went off, all those guys redirected to handle the fire. Saved me from having to figure out if I could bring the roof down on them without crushing us all.” Lance says, Todd opens his mouth to protest, but the other boy stops him with a hand on his jaw, “Spare me whatever bullshit about why you’re terrible, T, it’s easier to smear this shit on you if you’re not running your mouth in a ‘I’m a bad bad boy wankfest.’” 

Todd locks his jaw and Lance grins at him, fingers still gentle as he rubs the antibiotic on Todd’s scrape. They had to get the ointment special so it wouldn’t give Todd a rash or make him nauseous, and guilt burns through him all over again, weighing on him like he might drop all the way down til he embeds in the bedrock of the basement. 

“Remember the mission where I went so fast I tripped all those sensors and all of you got covered in that weird glue shit?” Pietro says, tossing a bag of frozen bell peppers rapidly between his hands.

“That was in my hair for a week.” Wanda growls, but the corners of her mouth are turned up.

“I had to use baby oil to get out of my uniform.” Lance says, fingers shaking against Todd’s chin as he laughs softly.

“At least yours was salvageable.” Says Freddy, pouting a bit. 

“Freddy your uniform is just the shit guys wear to the bear bar before they can afford leather.” Todd says, and the taller mutant prods him in the back, earning fussy tutting from Lance. The earth shaking mutant gives Todd’s face a final once over before shutting the first aid kit with a click, apparently satisfied with his effort. 

“It’s the principle of the thing.” Freddy says, “Remember when I made that walkway collapse when I ripped that beam out to use as a bat?” 

“Considering I was on that walkway, yeah, I do.” Todd says, drily, knowing what his teammates are doing, but also unable to keep it from working. 

“I barely made it off that thing in time!” Pietro says.

“Remember when I accidentally undid that place’s cement floor and we all got stuck?” Wanda asks, and Todd has to stifle a laugh.

“That fucking ruined my boots. The boss was so pissed off.” he says.

“Remember when I sent all those fucking pipes rolling and the boss fell on her ass?” Lance says.

“Shit, I forgot that time!” Todd gasps between his laughter and Lance drops a hand on Todd’s shoulder as Pietro shoves a foot into Todd’s leg. 

“We’re doing the stupidest shit with, like, half the instructions ripped out of the manual, dude.” Lance says, giving Todd a shake, “You had us, shit went south, but you still had us. We’re home. We get to go the fuck to sleep, and hopefully pack the fucking fridge with whatever cash the boss leaves us. But first we have a phone call to make.”

Todd shoots Lance a baffled look, but Pietro’s rolling his eyes, “Why do we have to sit here while you both make kissy noises at your pet X-Geeks.” And then something clicks in Todd’s head, though he can’t imagine the furball kept up the ruse enough to be waiting by the phone for Todd. 

“Tabby’s there too.” Freddy says quietly, at the same time that Wanda prods her brother in the shoulder, making him hiss, “She’ll be worried if we don’t call.” 

Lance hushes them and they all lapse into sulky silence, swatting at one another until he shoots them his ‘I’ll turn this Jeep around’ look. He hits Kitty’s number in his top five, holding the phone to his ear. It barely rings before Todd hears someone mutter hello on the other end of the line. Lance jerks his head back like a startled chicken, quickly hitting the speakerphone. There’s the rustling of fabric and an urgent whisper in a low voice, followed by sleepy murmurs on the other end of the line.

“Wagnerd, why are you answering my girlfriend’s cell phone?” Lance as he holds the phone out in the center of the circle the Brotherhood makes on Freddy’s bed. 

“Because he’s the lightest night-sleeper out of the five of us.” Kitty’s muddled voice says on the line, “Everyone okay, baby?” 

“Yeah, we’re all good, sweetheart.” Lance says, thumping Pietro in the leg when he makes kissy faces at the pet names, “Mission accomplished.” 

“Five of you?” Todd says, too thrown by Kurt’s tired voice being the one to answer the call to join in he and Pietro’s shared pastime of mocking Lance like a pair of first graders that believe in cooties. 

Kitty hums, “Me, Kurt, Tabby, and Rogue. Amara stayed for emotional support.” 

“Is that our jackass?” Tabby asks. “Do we get a sound off?” 

“You alright, Scarlet?” Rogue’s sleepy southern drawl drifts over Tabby’s question and Wanda gives a quiet affirmative back, tipping her head closer to Lance’s phone. 

“We’re all here. All safe.” Freddy says quietly, responding back to Tabby’s question. 

“Except Todd’s been infected by fuzzy’s Catholic guilt.” Pietro says, crossing his arms as he glares at Todd with the same look he gives big groups of cyclists when they clog the road ahead of them. 

The blue mutant must catch something in Pietro’s voice, because his quiet voice murmurs, “Did something happen? Are you okay?” 

Todd’s shoulders creep up to his ears at the concern laced under the tiredness in Kurt’s voice. Warmth flares across his shoulders the same as anytime one of the other Brotherhood kids shoves an extra helping his favorite foods on his plate, or when he passes out on top of the TV and wakes up with the faded couch blanket tossed over him. A feeling that makes him want to curl into himself and unfurl all at once. 

“Oh yeah, Toddle’s totally took out like fifty guys single-handedly.” Pietro says, leaning forward his arms across his chest, “Oh oh, he also saved a baby at the same time, you’re probably into that shit, aren’t you, blueberry?” 

Scattered laughter breaks over the other end of the line. 

“I dunno, I’m personally here for the fifty dudes at once thing.” Tabby says. “Real impressive.” 

“I feel like some part of this is true, but it’s not the baby part.” Kurt says.

Lance shoots Todd a look, biting his lip. “Todd’s fine, he just had a bit of a fall.” 

Freddy’s eyes widen the way they do when there’s a big reveal on one of the soaps he and Pietro insist they don’t watch. Pietro gives the delighted squeak he reserves for making vending machines dump all their food at once. Wanda gives Lance an impressed look, but Todd hisses belligerently at the taller boy.

“Rat.” he growls, but Lance just sticks his tongue out at him. 

The exhaustion softening Kurt’s voice vanishes, “Are you alright? Do you need me to come over?” 

Pietro’s face lights up with the kind of glee he usually reserves for when the football players slip after a heavy rain turns their field to sludge. 

“Oh, I definitely think he could benefit from Vana kissing his boo-boos.” Pietro says, tipping over to collapse into Lance, and Freddy dissolves into giggles, whispering the word ‘boo boos’ to himself. Wanda’s got that smile on that’s a laugh for other people. Todd wants to crawl under the bed and offer himself to any loitering boogie men as dinner.

“They met Vana?” Kitty says, tone implying that she’s giving Kurt and Tabby that look Todd’s seen pry information out of Lance faster than a dentist giving a root canal with a crowbar. Todd feels a prickle of confusion that Vana is somehow not an unknown person to the cluster of mutants on the other end of the line.

“We had extenuating circumstances today.” Tabby says. 

“She’s a good cover.” Kurt says, the words fast and distracted, “But my question isn’t answered.” 

Todd grumbles and lifts Lance’s wrist to hold the phone closer to his mouth, “I just bumped my fucking chin, I’m not on fucking life support. Don’t come over here until it’s just us again. I’m fine, Nurse Ratched. Go to sleep.” 

“Didn’t she tie people to a bed?” Amara’s voice finally drifts into the conversation over the laughter from the other X-Geeks. 

“I don’t wanna connect any of those possible dots.” Rogue says, her voice dry.

Kurt mutters something that isn’t picked up over Tabby’s hooting, then Kitty’s voice breaks in.

“Okay. But, like, let us know as soon as you all are free, got it?” Kitty says, more of a demand than a request. 

Lance’s smile is all soft on the edges as he looks at his phone, “‘Course, babes, I love you.” 

“I love you too, rock candy.” She says, “Get some sleep.” And then the line goes dead.

“Rock candy?” Todd asks, turning his head to look at Lance like an owl.

“Aw, she didn’t let us hear whatever gag-worthy nickname the furball has for you, Toddles.” Pietro says at the same time, sounding like he’d gotten to a donut box after the last one is gone.

“Can it, cowqwop.” Lance says, giving Todd a shove, but the smile on his face stays.

“Cowqwop?” Freddy repeats, looking back and forth between the two mutants. 

“It’s what blueboy called him that night he ported Todd back into the house.” Lance says. 

The twins look at each other, doing that back and forth thing again before something seems to click and they both snort. 

“Kaulquappe.” Wanda says, as Pietro flops away from Lance to slump against the raised part of Freddy’s reclining mattress.

“That’s what I said.” Lance says, a hint of sulking creeping into his voice.

“Tadpole! He’s been calling you tadpole in German.” Pietro says, and Todd feels his face heat.

“That’s cute.” Freddy says, “You are kind of a tadpole, cuz you’re not all grown yet.” 

Todd gives up on collecting any remaining shred of his dignity, hopping towards the door, “I’m going to bed.”

The others’ laughter follows him up the stairs, but he can’t bring himself to stay rankled at the sound. He creeps down the hall into his room, the last dregs of his energy slipping from him with each step. He’s out before his head hits the pillow, but his dreams are restless.

Mystique is long gone by the time the Brotherhood schlep their way into their kitchen. A stack of checks, amounts left blank and an envelope of cash sit in a window of early afternoon sunlight on the kitchen table. It’s Wednesday, but the last bell will ring before they could even get to campus, not that any of them are considering it.

Todd thumbs through the checks as Lance counts the cash. Freddy scoots past them to fix breakfast and Wanda and Pietro hover beside the coffee maker. 

“Shit, we may actually stay on top of bills for once.” Todd says, giving a low whistle, “But boss lady doesn’t seem to be coming back for a minute.” 

Lance grunts, but his shoulders are loose as he finishes his count, tucking the cash away in the false bottom of one of the kitchen drawers. They all hover like pigeons on a powerline in the kitchen until Freddy gives them shit to do. Then Wanda flips on the radio built into the toaster and they start a hum along that turns into a full operatic performance as they all ride the shaky high of exhausted relief that comes after a mission. 

Lance drags them all to Costco before they call the X-Geek’s with the all-clear, and Todd’s in a distance popcorn eating contest with Freddy and Pietro when there’s the familiar snap roar of Kurt porting and a clamor of voices from the Brotherhood entryway. There’s the thud of backpacks dropping to the floor, and Todd wonders if they’d come straight from school. Kitty phases through the couch to drop herself in Lance’s lap, while Tabby drifts over to Freddy, waving Pietro over to join them as Rogue plops down on the arm of Wanda’s chair. 

Kurt leans over the back of the couch to look at Todd, one hand slipping up his neck to tilt his head back, the touch a whisper. Todd grips the giant multi-flavor popcorn tin a little harder to cover his shiver. The blue mutant’s eyes catch on his chin and his eyebrows furrow, deepening the shadows of his brow. 

“You should see the other guy” Todd says, and Kurt’s fretting look breaks into a soft smile. 

“All fifty of them apparently,” He replies, “and a baby.”

“Hey, I didn’t beat up the baby.” Todd says, trying to pretend he’s not melting into the warmth of Kurt’s palm gently cupping his jaw, mindful of the amphibious mutant’s bruises. Kurt tips his head down, kissing Todd as tenderly as he holds him and the amphibious mutant feels like he might crack in pieces. Like he can almost forget this isn’t pretend for their friends.

“No, of course not. You kick trucks away from first graders.” Kurt says breath warm against Todd’s lips.

“What, no green hair today, fuzz?” Pietro asks, flinging popcorn at the duo from the bowl he’d stolen out of Todd’s tin. Kurt catches a piece in his mouth, tossing the speedster an overly polite thanks. Todd snaps out his tongue to grab the rest, giving Pietro the finger. Pietro’s mixed all the flavors together, with skittles and M&Ms. Todd can’t tell if the speedster actually likes the gamble, or just gets off on everyone else’s looks of horrified disgust.

“I still can’t believe they all met Vana and I wasn’t here to witness it.” Kitty says, dropping back against Lance’s chest with a huff. Todd thinks about the crumpled paint swatch still sitting on his battered nightstand.

“You been carrying around that purple lipstick the whole time, blue?” Todd asks. Kurt gives him a smile sharp enough to cut, and pulls a small black and gold tube from his pocket. 

“It’s good to be prepared.” he says, and Todd’s thoughts fizzle at the low teasing rasp in his tone. 

“Gross.” Pietro says, and Todd gives him the finger. Kurt sticks out his tongue as he hops over the back of the couch, crowding Todd a bit as he settles down. 

Todd grumbles, but can’t bring himself to put any heat in it as Kurt tugs him until he drops his head in the blue mutant’s lap.

“You look tired.” Kurt says as he looks down at Todd, as if the shadows around his eyes don’t seem deeper today. 

“And you’re fresh as a daisy.” Todd says, and Kurt snickers, giving Todd’s knees a shove.

Wanda and Freddy pick out a movie, not even bothering to poll the group before shoving the tape in and hitting play. Todd sneaks a hand under Kurt’s shirt, feeling the blue mutant tense before relaxing as Todd strokes his knuckles across the soft fur of his stomach. Kurt’s fingers card through his hair, nails skimming his scalp, sending shivers down Todd’s neck. He’s not really focusing on whatever’s happening on their staticky old TV. His blinks get longer til eventually his eyes stay shut, too heavy to bother opening them again. 

He feels Kurt shift beneath him, tipping over, and a soft weight drops against his legs as he’s drifting off. The hand his hair shifts a bit lower to play with the baby hairs at the base of Todd’s skull, sending pleasant warmth down his neck and over his shoulders. Todd’s hand absently tangles in long soft hair. Kurt sighs softly and nuzzles Todd’s legs. Sleep catches him as he’s running webbed fingers through that silky hair, Kurt a warm wall wrapped around him.

Kitty’s hand on his shoulder shakes Kurt awake, he recognizes the sparkly vanilla smell of her lotion. He can’t parse out what time it is or when he dozed off, only that the dull ache in his temples cries out for him to sink back down into dreams for at least a couple more hours. Kurt grumbles and wraps himself tighter around the pillow he’s holding, turning his face to shut out the light creeping under his eyelids. Kitty huffs the way she does when he’s slow on mission mornings, tugging a lock of his hair gently. Kurt twists his face up just enough to glare at her with one glowing eye.

“Yeesh, I thought I’d already seen the blueberry’s filthiest looks at school, but I think he just stripped the paint off the ceiling.” A voice, Pietro’s spits out in his glib rapid-fire way. 

Context drifts back into place for Kurt. The Brotherhood mission, spending last night trying to pretend like he didn’t care what happened to them, to Todd, and mostly just plowing through the next week and a half of homework assignments in decreasing coherency. The deep eggplant bruise blossoming along the underside of Todd’s jaw, edged with brown-red scabs. Curling up around the amphibious mutant on the Brotherhood couch, because he looked so tired, hunched in on himself like he was cold, and a good boyfriend wouldn’t let him be cold. Kurt’s pillow shifts under him and he sits up a little bit, letting the bear grip he’d had on Todd’s legs loosen with a soft apology when the shorter boy gives him a sleepy look that he can’t read.

“Blue’s not a morning person. You either get glared into leaving, or dragged into the nap pile.” Tabby says and Kurt fully sits up, turning his glower on her where she’s helping Lance unpack several take-out bags worth of fried chicken and sides, though the help looks more like a ruse to snatch up any stray french fries or popcorn chicken bits. She winks at Kurt’s glare and he bites his cheek to keep from pouting.

“You need to eat, critter. Don’t think I didn’t notice you picking at your food since last night like a snobby chicken.” Rogue says as she and Wanda plop down on cushions around the Brotherhood coffee table.

“You didn’t eat?” Todd asks, sitting up beside him. Someone had thrown a blanket over the two of them during their impromptu nap, and it drapes over the shorter mutant like a cape. He’s still looking at Kurt in a way the blue mutant can’t suss out, like Kurt’s a note written in code and he doesn’t trust his translation. 

“I ate.” Kurt says, his voice still creaky with sleep. His stomach growls, undercutting his defense and Kurt hunches in on himself, hot embarrassment making his fur fluff. 

The knot that twisted in his chest as soon as the Brotherhood’s front door slammed behind him and Tabby last night has almost completely untangled, and now he can feel the hollowness that settles into him when he’s only had enough food to keep moving. Kitty must see it in his face because she’s still hovering in front of the two boys on the couch, hands on her hips, but fidgeting there like she expects to catch Kurt as he keels over at any minute. He shoots her a look, but knows the heat in it has sputtered out.

“You ate when Scott did his ‘Simon says, I’m the leader now finish your vegetables’ routine.” She says, “And I will bet his fucking car you didn’t sleep last night.”

Todd and Kurt slip off the couch to join the circle around the coffee table, and Freddy sets a full plate in front of them to share before they’re even settled. His eyes stick on Todd’s chin for a minute and he bites his cheek. Then he looks at Kurt with the same level of concern and the blue mutant starts a bit.

Tabby hums around a mouthful of mashed potatoes, “Every time I woke up, you were muttering into your transcriber thing you use for homework assignments.” 

Several of the Brotherhood shoot Kurt a curious look. He wiggles the fingers of one hand as he hastily chews the mouthful he’s stripped off a chicken leg. It’s spicy and amazing and Kurt belatedly notices how bad food has tasted the last day.

“Computer keyboards are built for ten fingers, not six and teachers don’t like my handwriting. The transcriber types for me.” Kurt says, “By the way, I’m caught up with homework for the next week, so if any of you want copies, just double-check my math and chemistry work. And don’t act like you weren’t freaking out too, Boom Boom.”

“Oh I was totally worried,  which is why unlike you, I ate everything I could get my hands on til my stomach hurt and I kept having to get up to pee all night, which is why I know you were awake.” Tabby says, “Not related, but someone please take this food away from me because I ate on the ride back here and might actually barf.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes but pulls Tabby’s plate away from her and the girl sighs gratefully before flopping over to drop her head in the witch’s lap. Wanda drops the hand she’s not eating with down to rub the blond’s stomach in slow circles. Rogue takes the half-eaten plate and dumps the contents onto the one Kurt is sharing with Todd. 

Freddy hunches in on himself on Tabby’s other side, looking down at his plate and twirling his fork. “I’m sorry we scared you.”

Tabby pops back up to wrap her arms around Freddy, squeezing. “You didn’t scare us, not on purpose, not for shits and giggles anyway.”

Kurt shoots Kitty a glance where she’s leaning into Lance’s side and catches his own frayed worry and sadness reflected there. Lance’s head is tipped towards his plate, his jaw tight even though he’s silent. Todd is a statue beside him, curled in on himself like he expects everyone to flinch away before they get close. Kurt wraps his tail a little tighter around the other boy. The twins sit on either side of Rogue, their faces washed out in the lamplight of the living room. Kurt reaches for the big mutant’s arm before he fully makes the decision to.

“Worrying about someone is a gift too.” Kurt says, remembering a thing his mum said one night after he’d come home with split knuckles when some assholes decided a pub wasn’t meant for mutants, “It means they’ve changed your life enough to miss them.” 

Then Freddy starts crying and Kurt feels like he’s the one who beat up a baby. He flinches back, as if his touch on the younger boy’s wrist is what’s done this, but Freddy reaches out and grabs his hand, the hold fumbling as he cries into Tabby’s hair. Lance scoots over and pulls the other boy’s head down to his shoulder and Freddy lets go of Kurt to wrap his arms around the boy, pulling Tabby with him. Kurt drops his freed hand around Todd’s shoulders, and the other mutant tenses then leans ever so slightly into him. Tabby shifts her grip to hug both boys giving a wet laugh. Kitty rubs circles in Lance’s back, biting her lip the way she does when she’s trying not to cry during movie night. Lance’s head is tipped toward the ceiling, but his eyes are wet even as he murmurs at Freddy to breathe.

“Ugh, Dukes, don’t start this.” Pietro says, voice huffy, but he’s grabbing up a napkin from the takeout bag and the white blur that follows implies he’s wiping his eyes too fast for anyone to see. 

Wanda’s kicked out a leg to press her foot against Freddy’s thigh, and Tabby’s hand comes down to squeeze her ankle. She throws her arm behind Rogue to put her hand on her brother’s side. Rogue shifts like she’s stretching her arms out, but lets her hands come to rest on the twins shoulders, arms draped there.

“Shit, blue, you planning to write for Hallmark someday?” Todd says beside him, but there’s something raw in his eyes, in the curve of his smirk as he looks up at Kurt.

Rogue sighs across the table from them, the sound watery, “He does this crap to us too after missions.” 

Kurt considers teleporting away, but he was raised to clean up the messes he makes, and take responsibility for his mistakes. He can’t keep himself from scrunching down as he gives his sister a guilty look. 

“I am sorry for making things worse. I don’t try to make people cry.” He says.

Pietro chucks a balled up napkin at Kurt, and the blue mutant hopes it’s not one of the ones he heard him blow his nose on. Even that he does at super speed, the sound strange and cut off. Kurt bats it out of his lap with an affronted look. 

“Then why do you talk about feelings and caring like an after school kindergarten show?” Pietro says, his voice watery, Wanda gives him a shove and he wobbles and hisses at her.

Kurt bristles a little, “It’s not from a children’s show! My mum said it to me when I apologized for making her worry.” 

Todd snorts next to him, “What’d you do, blueberry come home five minutes late for dinner?” 

Kurt snorts, memories of dark alleys and his fists connecting with jaws spouting angry, hateful words flickering to the front of his mind, “Something like that.” 

“What else did your mommy teach you? Sharing is caring?” Pietro asks, but the questions don’t sting when his voice is still blurred with tears and he’s pulled Wanda’s hand around to the table to squeeze it like a lifeline. 

“Sword fighting.” Kurt says, smiling as the others pause to look at him, despite the big emotions tangling in the air, “Und how to throw someone when they swing at you.” 

“Who the fuck raised you, fuzz?” Lance says, tilting his head to look at Kurt like a confused hound dog. 

“Circus performers, you know this.” Kurt says. 

“Which explains the theater kid vibes.” Todd quips, more of the eerie stillness he’d fallen into cracking away. 

Kurt tips his head to look down at the other boy. “You like my theater kid vibes.” 

Todd tilts his head back to look at Kurt, that rare small smile on his lips and Kurt can’t stop himself from ducking to kiss the tip of his nose. The amphibious mutant gives him a scrunched face, but there’s no real irritation behind the look. 

“I do, you dramatic bitch.” He says and Kurt hopes the other boy can’t hear the way his heart speeds up as a smile spreads over his face.

“Thank you,” Freddy says and Kurt turns to look at the other boy. Freddy holds his gaze then turns to look at everyone in turn, “Thank you for caring about us.” he says as he looks at the X-Kids, “and thank you for having my back, and letting me have yours.” He says as he looks at the other Brotherhood kids. 

This time Lance actually does cry a bit, covering it by thumping Freddy heavily on the back, much in the same way Scott does to Kurt when he runs out of words. Pietro groans, but Wanda’s lips part in a quiet smile, her nose wrinkling as she bumps Rogue and squeezes her brother’s hand.

“Please, someone end this tender moment, lest we all die of hypertension from our tears salting the shit out of this food.” Todd says, and Kurt squeezes his shoulder, stifling a laugh in the amphibious mutant’s hair.

“Jean gave us your psych class homework and a copy of her notes from class for you.” Kurt says, looking at Freddy.

This was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Freddy’s lip trembles and he breaks into new tears. Pietro throws more balled-up napkins at Kurt as Lance laughs and rocks the cluster he’s in.

“Dukes, we gotta eat buddy, come on.” Lance says, and Freddy nods as he wipes his face.

“What was that you said earlier about copying homework, fuzz?” Todd asks as they all tentatively resume eating, though there’s still the occasional sniffle from Pietro and Freddy and Lance’s eyes are red. 

“Did I hear the condoning of cheating?” Pietro asks, affecting a scandalized tone as he waves a fork full of coleslaw at Kurt.

Tabby snickers from where she’s resumed lounging in Wanda’s lap on the floor, but Kitty sighs and takes an annoyed bite of her chicken.

“Please don’t get him started on the sham of the public education system in America.” She says. 

“To be fair, the European public education system may also be a sham, but I only have experience with this one.” Kurt says. 

“You never went to school?” Lance asks, like he’s now wondering if Kurt can read. 

Kurt shoots Lance a dry look as he gestures to himself, “What part of fuzzy, blue, and can climb on the ceiling sounds like a good fit for public school? My parents taught me when I was small, and once we went with the circus the older performers taught the kids. Coming here was my first time in a school. Got to say, the experience is a downgrade.” 

“But you’re a week ahead on homework.” Wanda says, shooting Kurt a knowing look, and he shrugs.

“It’s meant to keep us busy, and I needed to be busy.” Kurt says and feels Todd stiffen beside him again.

“Didn’t think I’d keep you up all night, blue.” He says, smirking at Kurt, but the innuendo falls flat over the guilt and disbelief Kurt hears under Todd’s bravado.

“I’ve seen you hack a facility’s security system and turn their turrets against them in less than ten minutes,but I’ve also seen you accidentally smash yourself into a tree by hopping onto a flying drone too small for you.” Kurt says, pressing a kiss to Todd’s temple, “Forgive me fretting over which way you might stray when you go out in the field.”

“You laughed at me, with the tree thing.” Todd says.

“I liked you less then.” Kurt says, shrugging, “And I waited til I saw you get up.”

Lance snorts next to Kitty, “Shit, that’s better than me, I didn’t even wait for you to get up, T.” 

Pietro’s outright laughing, head tipped back, “You made this ridiculous little ‘WaHeeee’ noise when you bounced off the tree, I nearly fell on my face, I laughed so hard.” 

“Like a rubber frog.” Wanda says, and Todd shoots her a dirty look. Kurt bites his lip to keep from laughing. 

“Well his quick thinking swung to the side of ‘saving all our asses’ last night.” Lance says, and Kurt catches the doubtful look Todd shoots the other boy.

"And I'm sure Mutti Dearest was overflowing with her usual praise?" Kurt asks, a suspicion nagging his heels like a yapping dog.

Todd snorts, "If you mean I thought she was going to throw me off the plane, then yeah." 

Anger burns through Kurt, "Because she's given you all so much training, because she's so helpful when she tosses you out into the field."

"Like Baldy is much better." Pietro snaps.

"He does at least make them run drills." Lance says, like it pains him to admit it. 

Kitty snorts, "Yeah, I appreciate getting up at 5 am three times a week and getting called home randomly from hanging out to dodge lasers and giant robot simulations."

"Don't forget the angry mobs." Tabby says, thrusting a hand up in the air where she's still sprawled on the floor.

Kurt shudders, "I never forget the angry mobs." Todd gives him a suspicious look and he tries to smile it away.

"Mutti dearest." Wanda says, drawing Kurt's attention away from Todd staring him down like he’s that weird 10 sided Rubix cube he and Forge play with. 

Wanda's glancing back and forth between Rogue and Kurt, and the blue mutant realizes he may have made some assumptions about how forthcoming an international militant mutant spy might be about her personal life to a bunch of teenagers. 

"Mystique isn’t just Rogue’s mom, she’s yours too." Wanda says. 

Pietro snorts, leaving forward to stare at Wanda, "Wandy, are we sure you didn't hit your head last night?" 

Wanda chucks a french fry in Pietro's hair and he shrieks, scrambling to fish it out. Kurt's eyes find Rogue's and she's giving him the same dry 'you started this' quirk of her eyebrow he gets when he looks to her to save him when Logan catches him in an unapproved use of school equipment.

"Shit." Lance says. He and Rogue turn to him at the same time and he curses again. 

"I told you she didn't tell them." Kitty says, all the irritation of over two year's worth of arguments in the words. 

Kurt winces, "Yes, I am seeing that." 

"How come you're German then?" Freddy asks, and oh, this is the part of the conversation Kurt always hates, the part that makes him feel small and ratty. An admittance that he wasn’t worth keeping.

Rogue reaches out and squeezes his hand, the leather of her gloves warm. His eyes catch on the twins as he looks up at his sister. They're watching him like he's a bedtime story come to life. Kurt winces as Pietro sucks in a breath.

"You're Captain Genosha." He says, like Kurt is bigfoot.

"Tro, you sure you didn't hit your head?" Todd asks, but he leans a bit closer to Kurt, arm coming around him in a way that makes Kurt's eyes burn, makes him feel a little less like he's made of smoke about to blow away. 

"I thought Summers and his little surfer bro were Maggie's so called 'Captains' and we saw how well that went." Lance says, old bitterness lacing through his words and Kurt remembers the quiet devastation in the Brotherhood's faces as the asteroid had risen without them.

"Herr Frankenstein does not have a record of success, clearly." Kurt says, and if Lance sounds bitter, Kurt’s tongue drips venom. 

"That's why he had us interrupt the boss that day. That's why you were at the construction site." Todd says. 

Kurt shrugs, "She has a precedent for throwing children from high places, I was curious about why." 

He chugs from his coke and desperately wishes it were a beer, something to buoy him away from the whirlpool he’s circling. He wonders where the Brotherhood hides their liquor. Rogue seems to catch his train of thought because she nudges his plate.

"You need to eat more. Don't work yourself up out of dinner again." She says as Kitty chucks a napkin at his head.

"Logan knows we're here, I'm not getting banned from coming over because you get drunk on a school night." Kitty says. 

"If they don't want us drinking on school nights maybe they could stop using us all as toy soldiers and we might cope a little better." Kurt says anger he normally keeps folded away unfurling and flaring like a banner. 

"Knifehands knows you're here?" Todd says, voice edging into panic and Kurt's anger sputters, his fretting on his snarled unrelationship with Mystique guttering out in the face of the very current consequences her bullshit has in the form of the sprawling purple bruise on Todd's chin, the exhausted slouch of the Brotherhood's shoulders.

Kurt snorts, "Not that he will say it, no. But there are many unspoken things in the Mansion. As long as we show up when we're told, act housebroken, and do tricks on command, what we do else wise is less cared about." 

"That's not funny, Kurt." Kitty says, and Kurt feels a stab of guilt at the hurt in her voice for letting his anger slip out so freely, "You like the teachers. Ororo, Logan, Doctor McCoy. You like the professor." 

"I like Ororo and Logan, and Herr Doktor, yes, but liking is not trusting. And I wonder if they're any freer than us to do as they really wish against the professor." Kurt says. 

“The professor is trying to make the world better for us.” Kitty says, though he hears the growing thread of doubt in her voice, Lance squeezes the petite mutant, lips set in a grim line.

Tabby sits up from the floor, reaching out to squeeze Kitty’s hand. “No one’s saying baldy doesn’t believe in making the world more welcoming to mutants.” 

“Some of us might be.” Todd mutters, and Kurt ducks his head to cover a laugh. A napkin, from Rogue this time, bounces off his head, but Todd’s eyes are glinting up at him with mirth for the first time since he ported them all here, and Kurt can’t bring himself to feel guilty for biting his lip to smother a giggle.

“But we can acknowledge that his methods are questionable.” Tabby continues.

Rogue laughs, but the look in her eyes makes Kurt wonder if he was the luckier of the two of them, "Someone doesn't have to hit you themselves to still hurt you."

“And this” Kitty says, gesturing broadly around the room. “Is any better?” 

The Brotherhood all stiffen and Kitty’s face crumbles. “Shit. I’m sorry.” 

“Considering we’re all caught in the middle of two old men’s messy breakup, I don’t think any of us are in what could be called ‘a good place’.” Kurt says.

“Our dad and Professor Egghead were not a thing!” Pietro says, voice rising. Kurt sucks his teeth and stares at him.

“Oh that’s weird, you’re doing that couple thing where you make each other’s faces.” Pietro says, recoiling. 

Kurt jerks back, “What?” 

Freddy laughs and Tabby joins in, the two slumping against each other, the sound breaks up the storm that’s gathered over the room, “You totally did Todd’s ‘that’s bullshit’ face! You sucked your teeth and everything.”

“I have a, ‘that’s bullshit’ face?” Todd asks, and Kurt turns to look at him, tilting his head.

“I mean, I thought your face was just like that.” He says, and Todd shoves him.

"What do we do though, about all of this?" Freddy asks.  

Kurt and Rogue blow out a raspberry at the same time and laugh when they catch each other’s eyes. The clouds Freddy and Tabby’s laughter chased away creep back into the edges of the room, the hard pressure of finding yourself on flooding ground with no way up. 

“Tonight, we finish eating.” Lance says, then turns to Kitty, “Then I want to go up and make out with you, because nobody died and I need my heart to race for non-explosion-related reasons. You dweebs can all do whatever the fuck you want.” 

Kurt laughs and high-fives Kitty, who accepts the gesture with formal grace. Todd and Pietro both lean over the table and gag, while Rogue and Wanda roll their eyes and Tabby pats a blushing Freddy’s shoulder.

“Friday, we meet in your lab.” Lance says, pointing to Todd, “and figure some shit out. Both about to survive long enough to get to a later and what that later might me. Your ‘Vana’ move bought us time, but if Mags catches on his old pet project is hanging around here, that could be trouble.” 

Todd goes stiff next to Kurt, eyes darting up to lock with Wanda’s, “That mindfreak.” 

Wanda’s lips twist in a snarl, and Kurt vaguely remembers a bizarre week in sophomore year where the girl seemed to move as if in a dream. Pietro’s knuckles whiten where he’s holding his sister’s hand and Tabby and Freddy both lean a little closer to the twin’s bubble.

“Exactly.” Lance nods.

“God this is a shitshow.” Todd says, pushing his hair back from his face with a sigh.

“But we’ll figure it out.” Freddy says, “I don’t want to do this forever, and I’m not leaving without y’all.” 

Todd grins at the other boy, and Tabby nudges the big mutant’s knee with her foot. 

“Yeah Dukes, we will.” Lance says and they all drift back to eating, conversation picking up slowly, like a rainstorm rolling in, soothing instead of tumultuous.

Taking Lance at his word, as soon as she finishes eating and notices Lance is done, Kitty stands up and wiggles her fingers til Lance takes her hand. She drags him to his feet and his whole face flushes. Kurt presses his knuckles to his lips to hide a laugh. 

“Later, guys. Unless this place is on fire, don’t even try knocking.” Kitty says as she tows Lance towards the stairs and the room breaks into laughter. 

The rest of them all start half-assedly cleaning, mostly dumping the used paper plates and empty containers back in the bags they came in. Todd’s starting to wilt a bit again and Kurt squishes down the threads of worry that thrum under his skin. Rogue catches his eye as she holds open one of the bags for him to dump trash into and raises an eyebrow.

“Y’all know you don’t need to stay down here with us sugar.” She says, her smile is teasing but her eyes are soft with that look she gets when she hides fussing over someone beneath griping at them. 

Pietro chimes in immediately with loud kissy noises, “Yeah, you don’t want to fuzzball to kiss your boo-boos, Toddles?” 

Wanda shoves balled-up napkins down the front of her brother’s shirt, and Kurt decides she may be his secret favorite. He grins at her and her lips quirk up in a barely-there smirk. Todd shifts beside him, shooting a guilty look over at Freddy and Tabby. 

“I don’t need to stare at your face anymore today, dude.” Freddy says. “Go suck face or whatever you want.” 

“Dukes, such language.” Tabby says, holding a hand over her heart, “I’m so proud.” 

He elbows the shorter blond, and Tabby rocks laughing before looking at Todd and Kurt, “Go on, not fair if Lance claims leader privilege to fuck around but you guys get chaperoned.”

“Excuse me, I’m a man of delicate virtue.” Todd drawls and Kurt snickers. 

The shorter mutant shoots him a look, “Wanna head to the roof?” And Kurt holds his hand out before he even finishes the question. 

Tabby chucks the blanket from the couch over their heads, “It’s chilly, bitches, don’t get a cold.” 

Kurt sticks his tongue out at her as Todd yanks the blanket off them, giving Tabby the finger. Todd’s hand is cool in his as they vanish.

Todd sighs in relief as soon as they appear on the roof, dropping back to lie against the rough shingles. Kurt drapes the blanket over them but hesitates at Todd’s side, like he isn’t sure how close to get. 

“Dawg, it is actually fucking chilly. Don’t get in your head about what’s the appropriate level of elbow contact right now.” Todd says, and Kurt huffs a laugh. 

He lies down beside Todd, but the blue mutant’s eyes feel dim, like candles hidden behind heavy curtains. Todd glances at him, drinking in the stiff set to his shoulders, the tightness in the shadows at the corners of his mouth. He remembers tripping over himself finding the blue mutant sprawled out and nursing a beer staring up at the sky through the hole in the gazebo. The way the tension ebbed bit by bit from the other mutant the further they got into the cans. He thinks about the ache in his chest that sometimes nothing eases except going away without going anywhere, finding escape in a bottle or baggie.

“So, what do you do, other than getting shitfaced for the bad times?” Todd says, dropping the question like a sledgehammer onto the roof between them and Kurt’s eyes slide to him. 

“You aren’t going to gloat? Point out I’m a hypocrite?” Kurt asks. 

Todd shrugs, “You’re pretty good at coming up with all the ways you’re bad on your own, fuzz. Be a little hypocritical to act like I don’t get blitzed off whatever I can get my hands on some days. And a bit of a dick move considering you apparently were ringing your hands by the phone for me all night. You didn’t have to play that hard, y’know.” 

Kurt turns to stare at Todd like he’s diving down into him, looking at what’s not being said, “I wasn’t playing. It’s fucked up what they have you do. We may not be dating for real, but I’m going to worry if a friend is in danger.”

“We’re friends now?” Todd asks, voice teasing, but his pulse hums in his ears as his heart picks up. 

Kurt shoots him a flat look, “We’ve spent hours together talking about bullshit, split our lunches, and planned pranks together. I’ve lent you kink books. You’ve seen what I wear when I don’t have to pretend. I’ve made out with you in a hammock while our other friend reads trashy pirate romance novels next to us.” 

“‘Tro and Evan make out sometimes and hate each other’s guts.” Todd comments, because his brain is gridlocked trying to process how Kurt having a list of reasons for their friendship up and ready to go makes his stomach flutter.

“Evan gets a thrill out of tripping Pietro up and that’s his thing. I don’t suck face with people whose guts I hate, it’s not worth the heartburn.” Kurt says, voice dry enough to use as kindling.

“That was your trashy pirate romance novel.” Todd says, because he’s still incapable of engaging in the conversation that he started.

Kurt nods, grin slipping into a smirk, “How do you think I know it was trashy?” 

“Lotta guys crossing swords? Walking each other’s planks?” Todd asks and Kurt snickers.

“Mmm the women get in on it too.” Kurt says, “Lot of knotwork is involved. Battening down the hatches, you know?”

“Gotta fight off that cabin fever somehow.” Todd says, nodding. He bites his lip as he and Kurt lock eyes. “That how you got curious about those books you lent me?”

Kurt hums, shrugging. “When I was younger, my parents had a rule that I could read any book on a shelf I could reach. Only they didn’t specify I had to reach it with my feet flat on the floor.” 

Todd giggles, “You telling me little baby crawler was rifling through his mommy and daddy’s porn stash?” 

Kurt laughs, “I wasn’t like a baby baby. My mum caught on pretty fast when I asked a couple questions she probably wasn’t expecting and I lost my loophole in the bookshelf rule. Can’t say what I saw didn’t make an impression.” 

“What, there a lotta picture books on those shelves?” Todd asks, smirking. Kurt smacks him with his tail, draping it across Todd’s legs.

“Well, at like nine I wasn’t reading those books for the articles. I was looking at the cool drawings of naked people doing funny things.” Kurt says, turning to Todd, his lips set in an unsmile that reminds Todd of how warm that mouth was against his. 

The thought pushes up against the heaviness of the last day and a half and he cracks, laughter tumbling out of him. Kurt breaks right after, shoulders shaking as he drops back onto the roof, this time fully pressed against Todd’s side.

“I read trashy romance books, I sneak off the mansion grounds late at night and run until my arms and legs shake. At home, I may or may not push beautiful strangers up against trees and alley walls, or let them push me. I practice routines until my body feels like jello. I roam around abandoned buildings and use them as dance studios. I let Tabby tow me out into the trees on the mansion grounds to talk about everything we’re going to do as soon as we’re gone from here and we kiss till we can’t breathe. I annoy the teachers who think they’re gods without any responsibilities except to their egos. I hide in Forge’s lab and listen to the two of you talk to your machines like pets. I port to the woods outside of town and scream until my throat hurts.” Kurt says, the words flowing out of him in a rush. 

“Shit, is that why locals keep saying the forest is haunted.” Todd asks and Kurt laughs. 

“No, it’s actually that the Jersey Devil vacations here and keeps putting up Halloween decorations to scare people away from their cabin.” Kurt says.

“How the fuck do you know what the Jersey Devil is?” Todd asks and Kurt turns to look him in the eye.

“We’re cousins of course.” He says and Todd loses it, rocking with laughter so his forehead bumps into Kurt’s shoulder and he leaves it there, his shoulders shaking. “Also Evan was obsessed with cryptids in freshman year and kept making us watch really bad documentaries.”

“What makes being drunk feel so good, what makes you pick it sometimes?” Todd asks, running a hand over Kurt’s side, smoothing his palm over the worn fabric of his t-shirt, when the blue mutant stiffens at the question.

“The world is funnier, when I am drunk.” Kurt says, “And in America, I am the clown. What do I do if I can’t find the joke?”

Todd snorts, “Look, Pagliacci, I never expected your uptight ass to make me laugh before, and I don’t expect it now. Get drunk if you need to laugh for yourself, but when it’s us, know you’re already a clown enough for me with that prissy attitude.” 

“I always liked when I made you laugh though.” Kurt says, and Todd hums a question, “Before, I mean. I knew if you laughed at something I said, it was in spite of yourself. Made me feel like I won.” 

“I get you, as outmatched as you are, had to find the victories somewhere.” Todd says, covering the way his heart skips at the confession. Kurt shoves him, but not hard enough to dislodge Todd from his place on the blue mutant’s shoulder.

“What do you do, other than getting blitzed off whatever?” Kurt asks, and Todd recognizes what Freddy would call a ‘deflection’ because he keeps using all his psych class vocabulary in an attempt to socialize all of them or some shit, but the amphibious mutant lets Kurt have the shift. 

Todd grunts, staring at the place where Kurt’s profile blends into the night sky, trying to spot where that deep velvety fur ends and the world begins. “Sit out on the roof and stare up at the sky til I feel like I might fall in. Hitch rides to the city and fling myself off skyscrapers and barrel across rooftops until I cross every borough and feel like overcooked spaghetti. Make eyes at pretty strangers til they come over and we shoot shit and sometimes find an empty roof or hide in the park and use our mouths for better things. Salvage shit from the junkyard and take it apart til I know how to put it back together. Bet Forge about which of us can make the weirdest fucking thing out of the spare parts in the lab. Needle the other Brotherhood members til they forget all the bullshit we’re in and either wanna chuck me across the block or laugh til they might piss. Find the grey, blank spaces on buildings and car parks and turn them into something screaming with color, all the things I can’t think into words.” 

He tapers off, running out of words and turns to glance at Kurt to see the blue mutant watching him with those solid glowing eyes, looking at Todd like he’s a book he can’t put down. Todd swallows at the expression, fighting the urge to look away. 

“The fuck you staring at, dawg?” He asks, and Kurt snorts. 

“Generally I believe we’re supposed to look at people when they speak, yes?” He says, the shadows of his face splitting to reveal the gleam of a white fang as he smirks. 

Todd groans, smooshing his palm into the blue mutant’s face, because he doesn’t have an answer to that nonanswer. Kurt opens his mouth as Todd’s hand connects, licking a broad hot stripe across Todd’s hand, grabbing his wrist to keep him from pulling back. The shorter mutant hisses, shoving forward so they roll over the roof. He darts his tongue into Kurt’s ear and the blue mutant yowls, laughing as he ducks his head, swatting at Todd’s face. He rolls them and they both yelp as they tip off the gentle slope of the roof onto the steeper incline. Todd’s heart jumps to his throat as they skid rapidly and Kurt curses sharply in his ear. The blanket tangles around their legs rendering their feet useless. They both slap their hands out against the rough shingles, catching themselves. They jolt to a stop on the edge of the roof, staring at each other wide-eyed. A high nervous giggle slips out of Kurt that Todd answers with his own near-hysterical laugh.

Something breaks loose in Todd, his eyes burning before he can shove the feeling back down and his breathing hitches. Laughter turns into a sob, high and choked. Kurt makes a panicked sound in his ear, wrapping his arms around Todd and porting them back up the roof. 

“I’m so fucking stupid.” He says as they reappear and Kurt’s arms tighten around him. “There was a fucking bomb on the computer dash and I didn’t notice it til it almost blew. Chucked it like a goddamn football, completely bombed their server room.” 

Kurt’s hands run broad circles across his back, he’s rocking them gently and Todd hates that it helps, “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit.” Todd says, sniffling, “It looked empty, but who the fuck knows. I really might have blasted fifty schmucks to hell. Nearly blew all of us up to fuck. Moron.”

“A moron wouldn’t have acted so fast.” Kurt says, cupping Todd’s cheek and leaning back to look him in the face, “You chose the option that protected the most people. Even though most of the people there wouldn’t have done the same for you.”

“I shouldn’t have missed it in the first place.” Todd says, his voice small and croaky in a way that makes hot embarrassment flood down his back on top of the shame. 

“Ah, yes, because you had so much time to go through a safety checklist before getting whatever fucking thing Mystique wanted from that computer.” Kurt says. “I’m sure the owners of that place were real chill about you being there too. Definitely not trying to kill you.” 

Todd laughs, a near soundless little bark, “Yeah, they laid out the red carpet and everything. Really next time should call ahead, ask them to remove the explosives.” 

“That’s their bad leaving that one in the first place, total host faux pas. Very rude.” Kurt says into Todd’s hair, his hands still stroking Todd’s back. He holds the amphibious mutant like Todd’s precious, like he’d miss him, like Todd doesn’t deserve all the terrible fates his brain conjures up for him. Another sob racks through him and Kurt shushes him, rocking them again.

They don’t speak anymore, outside of Todd’s wordless cries and Kurt’s murmured reassurances, little praises and whispers of relief that Todd’s safe, that they’re all alive as he rocks Todd through his meltdown. He lets the shorter mutant cry himself out, though Todd knows he’s soaking the blue mutant’s shoulder with tears and likely a fair amount of snot. He doesn’t know how long he sobs like he’s five years old, but by the time he cries himself out, his body feels like it’s made of lead and completely hollow all at once. His hands slow their absent kneading of Kurt’s back through his shirt. The blue mutant hums softly, a tune Todd doesn’t know, a hand drifting up to comb through Todd’s hair. 

“Shouldn’t sleep on the roof.” He mutters into Kurt’s shoulder and feels the blue mutant laugh.

“We filled our ‘nearly falling of the roof’ quota for the day, we’re safe now.” He says and Todd snorts but lets his eyes drift shut, feeling the steady thump of Kurt’s heartbeat under his palms, the even rise and fall of his back. 

A nearby window slamming open half starts Todd from muddled dreams. A high voice calls out, but he doesn’t catch the words, too far away. Closer, a voice that wraps around him like velvet gives a soft answer that Todd doesn’t catch either. Arms shift around him and he gives a little complaining noise. The voice shushes him and there’s a sudden drop and the air is still and warm around him, he catches the familiar scent of his room. The arms leave, lowering him onto a lumpy softness he recognizes as his bed. Todd clings, grabbing onto fabric with hands clumsy with sleep, getting a soft laugh in return. Warm fingers uncurl his hands as a kiss, so gentle it might be a dream, is pressed to his forehead. He curls himself into the blankets pulled up around him, sinking back into dreams as he hears a new voice drift in from the hallway, saying something about “no way you’re porting us.” But sleep’s call is stronger and he loses the thread. 

Todd jerks awake at the sound of Lance’s Jeep in the driveway below his window. He sits up and blinks at the darkness of his room, running a hand over his face. It takes him a minute to pull together how he got from the roof to his room, but the memory of warm arms and a gentle voice drift in laced together with half-formed dreams. His room feels cold now, too empty, and he hitches his bedspread around his shoulders and wanders towards the sound of the downstairs television.

Lance walks into the main hallway from the kitchen, meeting Todd at the bottom of the stairs. He’s wearing an old T-shirt, the collar all stretched out and Todd can see a line of hickeys running up the taller boy’s neck. 

“You boys coming to crash with us?” Tabby says, tipping her head back to look at him from the massive cushion pile the other Brotherhood kids have amassed in front of the TV. She’s got her head on Pietro’s stomach and Freddy’s head in her lap as Wanda leans against the tall boy’s side. The twins are passed out, and Freddy looks halfway there, each blink a struggle. 

Lance and Todd look at each other, and Todd can’t help the grin that answers the taller mutant’s. 

“Sounds good.” Lance says, dropping down next to Wanda at the same time Todd folds himself into the little triangle of space Wanda, Freddy and Pietro’s bodies make on the cushion island.

Tabby tugs at the corner of his blanket and Todd uncoils a bit, letting it spread over her. Freddy gives his shoulder a squeeze, letting his hand rest there warm and heavy as Todd leans into him. The living room is way bigger than his bedroom, but the shared breath of the others shrinks the world to the comfort of sleeping bodies and the low hum of the television. Todd drifts off, and tonight sleep is deep.

Chapter Text

“Where do you want to be right now?” Kurt asks, looking up at Tabby where he’s lifted her against the wall behind the gym.

Tabby laughs, that husky loud sound she makes when she’s trying to be bigger than life, like she isn’t already. Kurt can hear the echo underneath it today, the little things she leaves unsaid under the fireworks. She runs a hand through Kurt’s hair, tugging him back in with spark hot fingers. He lets her pull him close, but stops short before their lips touch.

“Blue, what makes you think I want to be anywhere else but here?” She asks, squeezing her thighs around his waist, but there’s a shadow in her eyes, like the gap between the mask she wears and the parts she hides underneath it is wider than usual. Her fingers fiddle in his hair, twisting round and round with all the things she doesn’t say. 

Kurt hums, “Because you love this beacon of quality education so much. And definitely didn’t steal my lunch kit right before the bell to go back to class.”

Said bell sounded five minutes ago, though Tabby hasn’t pushed for him to let her down and Kurt hasn’t shifted from where he held her up against the wall. His lunch kit sits abandoned by their feet, along with both their backpacks. 

“Maybe I wanted an excuse to get you alone.” Tabby says, tipping her head so their lips barely brush, and goosebumps ripple down Kurt’s neck despite himself.

Tabby had spent last night at the Brotherhood’s after their mission. Todd dropped down next to Kurt with a neck unapologetically dappled with hickeys among his usual markings, still smelling like Tabby and his own scent, muskier than usual in a way that made Kurt flash back to a wide mouth on his in a swinging hammock.The tightness at the corners of Todd’s usual smirk killed the half formed joke on Kurt’s lips before he could spit it out. When the blue mutant asked what was wrong Todd’s hand had come up to rub his neck as he gave Kurt some distracted nonanswer. 

At lunch, Tabby hardly sat still, loud and talking fast as she shifted around their little group. Kurt noticed that she ghosted around him, Todd and Amara though, like their touch burned. His eyes had caught Amara’s and her worried expression mirrored the one he bit his cheek to hide. Todd’s unease in class suddenly took on the familiar tightness Kurt felt in his chest when Tabby smiled harder, filling the air with one liners and sharp teases whenever the other X-Kids came back from a mission. 

Splitting her time between the Brotherhood and the X-men, Tabby refused to take orders from either Mystique or Xavier.  When one team had a mission, she stayed with the other, though where she went if both had orders at the same time Kurt could never get her to say. He tried to ignore the knots that formed in his stomach trying to fill in the gaps Tabby slipped away into. Tabby always felt off in the days after missions, a tightness around the edges and static under the volume she projected herself with.

When everyone started putting their stuff back together to schlepp back to class, Tabby slung her backpack over her shoulder and snatched up Kurt’s lunch kit before he could stop her, not that he tried very hard. She’d lunged into a kiss that was more a collision of mouths than anything else before darting backwards and calling for Kurt to catch her. Scott had made a scolding noise, hand jerking like he wanted to grab for Kurt’s tail, but Kurt had trained him enough to know that was a great way to get his car filled with bean bag pellets. Jean put her hand on his shoulder though and shot Kurt a look that was the closest thing the redhead ever gave to explicit permission to break rules. Kurt’s eyes caught Todd’s as he took off after Tabby and the amphibious mutant had jerked his chin up in a nod, something worried still fraying the edges of his usual bravado.

Kurt caught Tabby around the back of the gym. He suspects she lets him every time with how frequently they end up in this spot in these impromptu rabbit chases. She’d reeled him in immediately, but Kurt fought the urge to let himself be pulled under by her current. 

Now, he cups her cheek in his hand, running his thumb over the spattering of freckles there.

“We don’t have to stay here.” He says and watches as the blinds slam down behind Tabby’s eyes, her teeth catching her lip.

“You hate missing class.” She says. “You’re always telling me it’s important to try even when the teachers don’t.” 

“I’m two weeks ahead on homework. Which means you are too.” Kurt says, already fishing his phone out of his pocket, “I can text Kitty to say I have a migraine for Chemistry, and Todd and I have taken thirty minute bathroom breaks in art without Mrs. Zimmer even noticing. As long as you don’t touch the radio in that class, anything goes. She’s not going to miss me.” 

Kurt flexes his toes against the ground, biting back a frustrated hiss as his claws skitter one letter too far on his phone. He should probably give in and get that sliding model that has a full keyboard, but this little brick has survived more than one two story drop from his pocket and he feels a weird loyalty to it.

“Do you want me to get Todd too? Or Amara?” Kurt asks, sighing gratefully when Tabby plucks his phone out of his hands and finishes his text for him. 

“I want to give Amara a break. It’s kind of a lot dating your roommate.” Tabby says, staring down at Kurt’s phone in a way that makes it obvious she very much knows how dubious Kurt’s facial expression is at that statement. Kurt swallows his arguments about whether Amara would feel like she needs ‘a break’ given it hasn’t been her friends running around handling explosives this week, “Todd’s not gonna wanna go, he’s got physics.” 

“I can get him after, text him too.” Kurt says, “We’re covering Impressionism in art and he keeps bitching about looking at paintings of toddlers in fields because the teacher’s obsessed with that one painter. Now, where do you actually want to be right now?”

Tabby runs her hands through her hair. It’s been a couple months and the short flip of her bob is starting to droop under its own weight, her bangs falling into her eyes in a way that has her stealing Kitty’s hair ties and Kurt’s snap clips. 

“Todd got a new pair of clippers when they went to the grocery. And Lance has a straight razor you can use.” Tabby says.

“Lance shaves with a straight razor?” Kurt asks, tilting his head.

Tabby snorts, “I think you mean ‘Lance shaves at all’ but yeah.” 

“One express ride to Salon De Brotherhood then.” Kurt says, looping his tail through their bags and hooks his hands under her butt, pulling Tabby close. 

She squeezes his shoulders, eyes searching his face, “You sure?” 

Kurt bumps his forehead against hers, tipping forward to kiss her lightly, “Jawohl.” 

He waits a beat and Tabby sighs, sliding forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders, “Get moving, Blue.” 

He drops them in the middle of the Brotherhood kitchen and holds his breath a moment listening, part of him afraid the house isn’t truly empty. Tabby drops her feet on the floor, hands slipping down to his chest and from the way heat flares in them and she stills, he assumes she’s wondering the same thing. The fall wind rattling the loose windows is the only sound outside their own breathing and they both relax. Tabby wanders away to grab the aforementioned clippers and razor and Kurt tugs out one of the kitchen chairs for her to sit in. He notices the faded yellow paint is covered in a familiar scrawl of doodles and smiles.

Tabby had been the one to notice Kurt’s undercut, the careful way he shaves the triangle of hair on the back of his head down to match the short nap of his fur. They’d been running drills outside in the September heat and those curious fingers had run along his scalp when he’d crouched, lifting his hair in a futile attempt to cool off. A month later, she’d scared the shit out of him and Evan when they walked into their room to find her on Kurt’s bed, twirling the straight razor he used to trim his ends between her fingers. When the others saw that Kurt’s hands, strange as they are, could still be trusted not to butcher someone’s hair, it started a trend.

He’d become the unofficial hairdresser of the X-kids, despite the fact that most of the others could easily go to a salon, once they realized Kurt cut his own hair, at least once a month the bathroom his room shared with Bobby and Ray became a barber shop or beauty parlour--which it was became a standard debate during haircut nights at the mansion. Everyone sitting up on the sink or along the tub chattering as they waited their turn reminded him of nights crowded together after late meals, or the summer evenings where the heat got too much and everyone got out their shears and clippers and started giving each other trims and undercuts. Sometimes it was annoying to have the others whine at him for a cut, but even the pestering made him feel a little less homesick. 

Worry is starting to prickle along Kurt’s neck at how long Tabby is taking by the time she comes rattling into the kitchen, a plastic bag holding the clippers and its guards under one arm and the folded straight razor in her hand, a faded tie dye towel draped over her shoulders. 

“Ugh, Lance didn’t clean the shaving cream gunk off his razor and it was all congealed on it.” Tabby says, grabbing the clipper bag and shaking it, “And this was wedged underneath Freddy’s dresser because he must have tossed it there last time he cleaned up his mohawk and not bothered to pick it up when it fell.” 

Kurt snorts, “I’m sorry they don’t take better care of their things for you to borrow.” 

Tabby’s expression sours, something rough creeping in on the edges as her eyes study the linoleum, “The clippers are communal. Everyone uses them here.” 

“I promise not to tell anyone that the household of ‘evil mutants’ shares with each other.” Kurt says, holding out his hand to cover the way his heart twists at the look on Tabby’s face, at knowing his big mouth put that expression there.

Tabby snorts, “I’m sure they’ll appreciate you keeping the secret.” 

“And you won’t?” Kurt asks as Tabby lets herself be tugged down into the chair in front of him, tossing the razor and clippers onto the table beside them. 

“Brotherhood of Evil Mutants is a shit name” Tabby says, “One, defining something by the idea that dudes are more important sucks and two, acting like radical action against organized efforts to kill or otherwise destroy mutants’ quality of life is evil is shitty. I refuse to participate in such terrible marketing.” 

Kurt presses a kiss to the crown of her head, for something to do with the swell of warmth in his chest from listening to Tabby, from watching the way her hands cut through the air as she talks, the fire that infuses her voice. 

“It’s good that you stay here with them sometimes, give them time to accept you as their rightful leader for mutant liberation.” He says softly and feels more than hears Tabby’s huffed laugh.

Tabby opens her mouth, but Kurt’s phone chimes, cutting her off.  They both pause and look at his pocket.

“Check it.” Tabby says and Kurt fishes his phone out with his tail, leaving his arms draped around her shoulders.

“It’s Todd, apparently physics is fucking boring today. He wants me to pick him up now from the gym roof.”  Kurt says.

Tabby huffs, annoyed, “Give me your phone.” She thumbs Todd’s number in his phone like it's personally wronged her, holding the phone up to her ear. “You’re never bored in fucking physics.” 

Todd’s voice is a bit garbled by wind and static on the line, but Kurt catches his annoyed rebuttal, something about being familiar enough with the concept of electromagnetism outside of his academic life that he doesn’t need the kindergarten explanation. Tabby’s jaw clenches the way it does when she knows the other person’s won the argument, but doesn’t want to say it. 

“Blue’s coming.” She says, and hangs up. 

Kurt catches his phone when she tosses it back to him and ports without further instructions. She’s already given him orders.

------

Tabby holds out her hands to Todd, wiggling her fingers as soon as he and Kurt reappear next to her in the Brotherhood kitchen. Todd rolls his eyes, but hops off towards her room anyway, ignoring Kurt’s confused noise.

“You didn’t leave any fucking booby traps this time, did you?” Todd asks. None of their doors, save Mystique’s, lock properly, and none of the Brotherhood could figure out how to tell her she didn’t need to booby trap it to claim the space when she wasn’t around. While Tabby split her time between here and Haus of Baldy, her room belonged to her alone. 

“You wish I left boobies lying around.” Tabby shoots back, which Todd takes as a “be cautious.” 

They’d woken up before the others that morning, Todd had turned his head and caught Tabby staring at the ceiling in that far away way she got. He always fought the urge to turn away when he stumbled on her with that blazing shield of loud affection and explosive certainty down. She’d caught him looking, hazel eyes flickering to his and that pensive softness in her face slid under again, playful teasing coming over it as she reached out a hand for him. Her palm was fever hot as she pulled him up from the group and tugged him towards his room. They never went to hers for this. Todd wondered if it was her powers that made her hands nearly burn, the explosion always simmering there under her skin. 

She’d pushed him up against his door as soon as they stepped into his room, but something in that expression he’d caught before she noticed him held him back. Tabby pouted when he’d pulled away, before the sulk crumbled into genuine worry, like she cared whether Todd actually wanted this and Todd’s stomach fluttered with warmth as a tiny part of him dared believe in that caring. He’d asked her what was wrong and his heart nearly stopped at the brief raw expression he caught before she hid her face in his neck. Tabby shivered, just once, her arms squeezing Todd before asking him if they could pretend just a little while, just disappear against each other. 

Todd had to swallow before answering, eyes burning as he blinked, running his hands up and down Tabby’s back. He’d finally nodded, squeezing her and Tabby had pulled back, searching his face a long moment before diving back into him and they’d both sunk down together, only surfacing when Lance bellowed up the stairs at them that they had five minutes before they got left behind. Which really meant they had five minutes before Lance kicked open Todd’s door, eyes screwed shut as he threw pillows at them til they scrambled downstairs. 

----

Todd nudges Tabby’s door open with a broken off broom handle he keeps precisely for this occasion. There’s a rattling clatter and marbles rain down from above the door frame, spilling out into the hallway. He hears the faint sound of Tabby’s laughter from downstairs followed by Kurt’s confused murmuring and louder laughter from Tabby as she likely refuses to explain the cacophony of rattling. 

Todd snorts, fondness rolling warm in his chest as he half assedly sweeps the marbles back into Tabby’s room so Pietro doesn’t break his neck shooting down the hallway later. The early afternoon sunlight bathes Tabby’s room in buttery yellow and Todd breathes in the smell of her, a mixture of that woodsy perfume she switched to when her old shit kept giving him hives and her sweat, mingling with the stacks of old books piled in the corner and the faded posters she keeps tacked up on the walls.

He scans the room for the faded metal Ninja Turtles lunch kit Tabby keeps her nail shit in. It’s tucked next to a bin full of art supplies on the floor and he figures Wanda probably borrowed it recently. She’s the only one who’s earned a standing invitation to enter Tabby’s room, everyone else needs express permission. Todd flips a paint smeared rag that reeks of turpentine off the lunch kit with the broom handle, not wanting the nausea that comes from touching it before grabbing the case and making his way out of Tabby’s room, shutting the door as much as he can behind him. He stalls in front of his room on the way back, debating getting the respirator mask he uses tagging shit. 

Tabby never mocks him for wearing it when painting her or the others' nails, and she blasted Lance and Pietro the one time they tried, but he’s never worn it in front of Kurt before. The blue mutant has yet to laugh at him for something like that, and Tabby would gut him if he did, but the little blister of fear at seeing that old mocking expression creep back onto Kurt’s face makes him hesitate. Todd studies the cracks in the ceiling a minute before sighing and shouldering his way through the door, grabbing the mask where it hangs on an old fork he bent into a hook and screwed onto the wall. He’ll risk the laughter over taking the chance that Tabby will refuse to have him do her nails at all. 

Kurt seems to be halfway through cutting Tabby’s hair by the time Todd gets back to the kitchen. Tabby’s hair is dripping onto the towel she’s draped over her shoulders and the blue mutant is carefully holding out locks of damp hair and shearing off their ends with Lance’s razor. There’s a little halo of dry blond clumps around their feet and the clippers are discarded on the table beside them. 

“What, does the circus not pay you enough, blue?” Todd asks, as Tabby kicks out a chair and pulls it in front of her with a socked foot. He drops into it, popping open the lunch kit for Tabby to make her color selections. 

Kurt hums, not looking away from his work, “It’s good to have a fallback career, und I figured I should hit all the stereotypes I can.” 

“I like collecting guys that undercut my beauty budget. It’s my revenge on the pink tax while still getting cute shit.” Tabby says, dropping several bottles into Todd’s hands along with a nail file before she tugs the box away and pushes it onto the table.

“Todd’s the one putting all those designs on your nails?” Kurt asks, ears flicking as he tilts his head and Todd covers the goofy smile spreading over his face by shoving on his respirator.  Tabby snorts. 

“Blue, what about me says ‘I have the patience to draw entire faces or glue rhinestone clitoruses to tiny cunts on my nails’?” Tabby asks. 

“You like sitting in on the meditation trainings Logan makes us do.” Kurt says, “I assumed it was a practice in presence.” 

“Shit, Tabs, you trying to outdo blueberry with these claws?” Todd asks as he files Tabby’s nails, running his finger along one long edge.

“Hey, mine are retractable.” Kurt says, a hint of sulking in his voice and Todd pauses. 

“Wait, no shit?” Todd asks, leaning around Tabby trying to catch a glimpse of the blue mutant’s hands. 

“Did I shred your shirt that one time in the hammock?” Kurt asks, voice flat, but he stops trimming Tabby’s hair, switching the razor to his tail as he holds out a hand to Todd. Todd grabs it partially to keep from getting hit in the face and partially to avoid having to look at whatever expression Tabby’s making at that little tidbit the blue mutant’s dropped.

“Dawg, you shredded my uniform enough times, I assumed it was a matter of courtesy that I don’t look like a scratching post now.” Todd says studying Kurt’s hand.

Kurt’s fingers are damp, but his broad blue nails are short and neat. The tips are a faint blue grey, a bit like the offwhite yellow green Todd notices in his own nail tips when they get too long. Kurt shifts his fingers so they point away from Todd’s hand and his nails lengthen, tips narrowing to a sharp, dark point that reminds Todd of some of the queens back in the city. Todd jerks and Tabby giggles. He glances up into glowing gold eyes and wrinkles his nose at the gloating smile on Kurt’s face. He runs his thumb along the edge of one long talon, starting as he feels the cool hard shape shrink under his finger, returning to the flat curve of before. 

“Seems to be the most of Mystique’s mutation that I inherited.” Kurt says, shrugging.

Tabby elbows him, and Kurt makes a panicked noise as he twists to avoid catching the blow in the junk. Todd snickers and Kurt sticks his tongue out at him.

“Not true.” She says, “You haven’t shown Toddles your other trick?” 

“I haven’t shown Toddles my other trick.” Kurt says, in Tabby’s voice and accent. Then his voice shifts and Todd’s brain feels like it’s glitching, “I think he already heard it with Vana.” 

“The fuck, man, you always been a goddamn parrot?” Todd asks.  

Kurt shakes his head, “It, uh, started when my voice began changing?” 

“So your balls dropped and now you can mimic chick’s voices?” Todd asks, raising an eyebrow. Kurt’s pitch for both voices was eerily accurate, several octaves above his usual soft flowing tone. 

“I don’t think gender is a limitation I have, you feel me?” Kurt says, voice shifting to a deep rasping New York drawl that hits a nasal edge on some of the vowels. Tabby howls, rocking forward so her hair slips from Kurt’s grasp. Todd recoils like he’s stepped in warm pudding. 

“I do not sound like a fucking rental mobster with a sinus infection.” Todd says and Tabby squeezes his hand. 

“I mean, no you do not sound like that.” She says, “But you do sound real close to what Kurt just did.” 

“Considering two years ago you sounded like a cricket that was trying to mug me every time we fought,” Kurt says, pitching his voice into a higher register and cranking up the nasally sound, before clearing his throat and dropping back into the previous voice, “I think this one is a real change.” 

Todd swallows, glad the respirator hides most of his face. A hot prickle runs across his skin at hearing two versions of himself parrot at him back to back, and he can’t decide which is worse. Tabby nudges his leg with her foot. Todd flicks his eyes up at them both from his study of the floor. A couple of the linoleum tiles are coming up around the edges, they probably need to replace those soon. Or just glue them down again, which is more likely.

“So no one’s gonna ask you to sing opera, Toddles.” Tabby says, “That doesn’t make you a mobster with sinusitis.”

“You could sound like a country hick that swallowed a cat.” Kurt says, pointing to himself and Tabby swats him.

“You don’t sound like a cat.” She says at the same time that Todd says, “You ever heard a hick, dawg?” 

“I am not a hick in your country, but I grew up on a farm on the edge of a town of less than 10,000 people in the verdammt alps, then traveled around with a bunch of people from places most maps don’t bother covering.” Kurt says, “I sound like a hick unless I try. Besides, your voice is good. It suits you.” 

“Could it convince you to dance til you pass out?” Todd asks, hoping his smirk shows in his eyes. Kurt’s fur fluffs and his tail lashes behind him as he ducks his head so Todd counts that as a win.

“Is this some kinky shit neither of you have shared with me til now?” Tabby asks, “Because I’m down to see this, but I have eight unfiled nails and only 60% of a haircut right now. Chop chop.”

Kurt opens his mouth to reply, then jerks, his eyes widening. Tabby must catch something in Todd’s startled expression because she turns around, the hand in Todd’s suddenly holding him in a white knuckle grip. Kurt’s expression shifts to one of frustration, lips twitching like he’s fighting a snarl, his eyes still unfocused. Todd squeezes Tabby’s hand and she shoots him a panicked glance over her shoulder, mouthing “egghead” and Todd feels a chill run down his back.

He hadn’t realized Baldy could reach this far and panic twists in his gut over how much power the asshole has. Magneto at least has to use wiretaps and cameras to track them, and Todd had carefully fed looping decoy footage into the feeds he and the others had found in the common rooms of the Brotherhood house last year. The idea of he or Mystique being able to just ram their ways into Todd’s brain makes him want to jump the fucking continent.

"If you have concerns about my performance, I am sure my parents will be happy to discuss them when they visit this November, Herr Professor." Kurt says aloud. “I understand the importance of attendance, and will be sure to only skip classes with your approval going forward. Good day.”

Kurt sighs heavily, shaking his head and blinking. Tabby’s trembling where she’s sitting between them, her face hidden by the uneven curtain of her half cut hair as she studies the floor. Todd runs absent circles over her knuckles, resisting the urge to pull her in close before she reaches for him to. The blue mutant looks at them both and sighs running a hand through his hair. He reaches towards Tabby with the other, but settles it on the back of her chair when she flinches away.

“Sorry about that.” Kurt says.

“Baldy do that often, dawg?” Todd asks, tugging his respirator down to hang around his neck, relieved his voice doesn’t crack. Though the brittle edge to Kurt’s smirk says he knows Todd’s stomach is a tangle of anxious worms. Kurt shakes his head.

“Nein, I think it takes him effort to track us when we are not on the grounds. But closer to missions he starts checking in more with Scott and Jean.” Kurt says, tipping his head towards the ceiling, “Scott’s not very good at hiding stray thoughts apparently. He might have let it slip that I skipped.” 

“You got a mission?” Todd says, tension winding into his shoulders and Kurt waves his hand through the air, tail following the motion.

“They never tell us very far in advance, but the increase in drills, how they keep calling us home early, what else could it be?” Kurt sighs. 

“You should go back to class.” Tabby says her voice uneven. She doesn’t look up from her study of the floor. 

Kurt shakes his head again, “The mischief is done. Going back to school won’t save me from cleaning the Blackbird. I may as well enjoy myself and earn my punishment.” 

“He probably knows I made you leave, why the fuck does he hassle you about it?” Tabby says, her voice wet. Todd squeezes her hand and she squeezes back, her foot bumping his leg. 

Kurt sighs and crouches down to look up at her, dropping his hand onto her knee, telegraphing the motion so Tabby has time to pull back. “Because he knows punishing me bothers you way more?” 

“You saying Baldy McHold-Hands-With-the-Normies is terrorizing a teenage girl on purpose?” Todd asks, “That shit’s pathetic, yo.” 

Kurt shoots him a dry look, rubbing Tabby’s knee absently through a hole in her faded jeans, “A man whose idea of problem solving is to have teenagers beat up his brother and ex-boyfriend and who continues to have our teachers fight a bunch of different teenagers playing weird mind games with said teenagers? So unexpected.” 

Todd darts out a foot to shove Kurt over rather than reply. The blue mutant squawks as he rocks with the blow, feet scrabbling on the tile and tail looping widely through the air as he flops onto his ass. He shifts, glaring at Todd and the shorter mutant braces for retaliation before Tabby’s hand jerks in his and they both snap to look back at her. 

“You need to go.” She says, looking down at Kurt, her jaw working and eyes watery.

Kurt drops back onto the floor from the offensive crouch he’d slid into, scooting close enough that he’s leaning on Tabby’s leg like an adoring hound. “I will leave if you want me to. But all I need to do right now is spend time with you if you want that and call my mum.” 

“Okay, the first one makes sense, but I’m lost on the second, yo.” Todd says.

“Standard family ‘my creepy psychic headmaster was in my brain’ procedure. Everytime it happens I call my parents and tell them about it. I haven’t forgotten any of the times I told them about yet, but keeping track feels kinda relevant.” Kurt says, hand finding Tabby’s knee again, his tail wrapping around Todd’s ankle seemingly without his notice. He glances back up at Tabby, “I have plans to protect myself. People are watching out for me. Do you want me to go?”

Tabby shakes her head, swallowing wetly, “No.”

“Tabs, where do you want us? We have an express ticket to pretty much anywhere sitting right here.” Todd asks, nudging Kurt’s leg with his foot. 

“Some limitations apply, but on this or any connecting continent, yes.” Kurt says.

“Oh the answers I could give to that question.” Tabby says, tilting her head to sweep her eyes over the both of them from under dark blond lashes, voice dropping into a shadow of that soft croon that lights up the little tucked away parts of Todd’s brain. Kurt’s tail squeezes his ankle and he assumes the feeling is mutual.

Todd snorts, “Sure, and maybe I’ll believe that look tomorrow, sugarpuss.” 

Tabby laughs quietly shrugging. She bites her lip.

“Lets go to my room.” She says, and Todd fiddles with the strap of his respirator to cover his surprise. He’s only spent time with Tabby in her room a handful of times, and most of those were spent curled around her as she pretended to sleep to cover her crying or when she was sick.

Tabby stands pulling them both up with her and they follow without complaint. She doesn’t let go even on the narrow staircase and it takes a bit of awkward maneuvering in which Todd climbs the wall at one point and Kurt hops up on the banister to avoid slamming into it. Tabby pushes open her bedroom door and the cracked expression on her face flickers as she giggles.

“Do you always keep approximately 500 marbles on the floor of your room?” Kurt asks, nudging a particularly large deep purple marble flecked with gold, sending it rolling into a cluster of tiny swirled ones that did not stand a chance. The trio watch as the smaller marbles scatter, crashing into their neighbors and sending them rattling away in turn. 

“They’re free range marbles, they need a lot of space or their rolling muscles break down.” Tabby says, “It’s very painful for them.” 

“Good to know you stand by responsible pet ownership, Tabs.” Todd drawls. 

Tabby shoves them both towards her bed, “Call your mommy, blue.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes and flicks his tail at Tabby, but she swats it away and drapes herself across the pair’s laps as they sit on the foot of her bed. Todd’s hand winds into her still damp hair and she sighs softly, hot hand finding his wrist. Kurt pulls his phone out and hits a number, Todd jumps when he realizes the phone’s on speaker. 

A woman’s voice answers the phone on the third ring, “Hallo, Majaris.” 

“Hallo, Mutti” Kurt says before launching into an explanation in a language Todd doesn’t know, too fast for him to tell when one word ends and another begins, the only thing he catches is a brief mention of “speakerphone” and the occasional name, including Tabby’s and his own. Kurt’s mom is quiet on the other end of the line, humming here and there but she doesn’t interrupt his explanation. When he finishes, she asks something and Kurt answers, the conversation going back and forth several rounds before abruptly Majaris switches to English. The change happens so fast Todd doesn’t register it until Tabby answers the woman.

"Is your bodyguard slacking in his job, Tabby? I can dock his pay." Kurt's mom asks on the phone and Tabby laughs. 

"He's been a little occupied with his new boyfriend. Definitely cut back on his hours." Tabby says and Kurt groans and shoves her, Tabby catches his hand and weaves her fingers through his, wiggling them.

“And how is this new boy of his? He doesn’t tell his poor mutti anything, I have to go hunting.” Majaris says.

"Why don't you ask him?" Tabby asks at the same time Kurt lets out a mortified, “Mein Gotte, mum.” and Todd makes a strangled noise in his throat because never has he been introduced as anyone’s boyfriend to their mother, though he’s sure he’s been sniffed out before by the sharp looks and sharper questions about his grades and what he gets up to from friends’ moms and aunties back in the city.

Majaris laughs on the other end of the line, and while Kurt’s adopted, Todd can’t help but hear familiarity in the rich rolling sound. 

“I won’t make you speak, froschkönig, but Tabby knows this rule and I gift it to you: tattle on my mäuschen if he acts like a blockhead. We raised him better than that.” She says, “Tabby, have you thought any more about coming this summer?” 

“Still rolling it over, Mrs. W.” Tabby says, reaching up to tug on Todd’s hair.

“Liebling, I’m no one’s missus.” Majaris says and Tabby grins.

“I know, I like to hear you say that. Tell Kurt’s vati hello for me?” she says and Majaris laughs. 

“Of course, mäuschen, you be careful, ja? Don’t let silly old men make your choices.” Majaris says and Kurt smiles, ducking his head.

“Ja, mutti. Love you und vati.” He says.

“Love you too, schatzi.” She says and then the line goes dead.

Todd flops back on Tabby’s bed, her fluffy green comforter puffing around him, “Fucking shit Tabs, you had to do me like that?” 

Tabby flops her hand out to pat Todd’s stomach, “Relax Toddles, blue’s mommy is a merciful goddess.” 

Kurt snorts, “She has not strung me from the ceiling by my tail yet, certainly.” The blue mutant flops sideways, crashing into Todd’s shoulder as he reaches out to cup Tabby’s face.

“You know my family means it right? When they invite you to come in the summer? You know I mean it?” He asks, “No strings, no favors. A gift. To myself mostly, because I get your company. The others would die to meet you.” 

Todd sits up on one elbow, eyes flicking from the back of Kurt’s head to Tabby’s face, her expression folding inward, shuttering like a collapsing star. She nods.

“Yeah. Yeah I know you mean it.” She says and then chokes on a sob. 

Todd feels like the bed’s dropped out from under him. He notices how Kurt’s fur stands on end, tail a stiff arch, as he drags Tabby up to lie between them. She goes without complaint and Todd’s struck by how easily the blue mutant lifts her and how small she looks even with all her curving softness. 

Tabby curls in on herself between them, collapsing against Todd’s front and he wraps his arms around her, jostling a moment with Kurt as they figure out how to hold her at the same time. Kurt murmurs under his breath as he presses his lips to the top of her still damp hair and Tabby sobs louder. Todd rocks them all, running his hands up and down her arms the way he has on late nights or mornings so bright they feel insulting. Tabby’s voice breaks, breath hitching in a silent cry and Kurt runs his hands over her hair, he and Todd talking over each other as they coax her into breathing. 

“Hase, slow down, we’re here, we’re here.” Kurt mumbles over Todd’s “Tabby baby, breathe for me, you’re good, you’re good, easy.” 

Tabby chokes, but rounds her mouth blowing out a loud breath before shakily pulling in another, then another. She hiccups, tears running down her face smearing her eyeliner in blurry streaks. A fresh sob rips from her and she turns in their arms, hiding her face in Todd’s chest. 

“Sure, pick my shirt to soak.” Todd says, but he pulls her close kissing the top of her head.

“Hey, skin is wipe clean.” Kurt comments, but he pulls away briefly to shed his floral over shirt, handing it to Tabby as a tissue.

“You dorks.” She says, “I’m gonna stain this.” 

“So stain it. Your dorks.” Kurt says, “If you’ll keep us, please keep us.” 

“Heard you were recruiting for your bad bitch mutant militia.” Todd says, flicking his tongue over the ticklish spot near Tabby’s ear. Her laugh rings through him like a bell, “I got killer legs and can quote Audre Lorde.” 

Tabby gives a watery laugh, turning the shirt inside out to wipe her face, blowing her nose and wincing at the stream of snot she swipes away. 

Kurt looks at Todd over Tabby’s shoulder like he’s grown another head, and Todd sticks his tongue out at him, “What, you don’t get an education in the classroom, dawg.” 

“Your applications will be considered.” Tabby says, her hands finding theirs, “Though I’m terrified about whatever bullshit the two old fucks have planned this year.”

Todd locks eyes with Kurt over Tabby’s head, and the blue mutant’s next question throws him.

---------

“Where do you go, when you’re not here or at the mansion?” Kurt asks, tail lashing behind him as he braces for fallout. He’s asked before, and the answer has ranged from either explosions chucked in his general direction, a hot mouth finding the tender spot behind his ear that makes words hard, or Tabby walking off the way she does when she’s decided a conversation is over.

Today, curled between him and Todd, Tabby sighs like the wind runs through her bones, collapsing against them even further.  She twists his snot-soaked shirt between her hands, rolling it tight the way she does candy wrappers or scraps of paper that find their way between her fingers. Kurt’s struck by how much longer he is than her, that Todd is than her, and wonders when her eye level stopped matching theirs.

“There’s this woman, Lizzie, she does shit with a drop-in center across town.” Tabby says, nudging Todd, “I sent you there to get food a couple times when Mag-Daddy’s checks dried up for a while.” 

Todd snorts, “The hippie lady who wears the pussy necklace? Who had us all get tested and shit?” 

“That’s the one.” Tabby says, a smile flickering on her lips before fading, “I showed up late one night at the center. I don’t even remember which time it was, maybe that crap with the asteroid, or that time you all went to bullshit mountain. She turned up an hour after I’d jumped the fence to sleep on the back patio, drove up in this beat-up titty pink pickup. Let me crash on her couch. Tried to ask questions once, but I freaked the fuck out on her. I was so scared Baldy would make her forget I existed or Buckethead would send that Metallica werewolf after her. She never asked again, but always lets me in when I knock.” 

Kurt’s squeezing her before he even thinks about it, pressing against her back to crush the distance between them. He feels Todd’s arms flex against his, doing the same where he cradles Tabby against his chest. After a minute Tabby gives a wet laugh between them.

“Affection is great, but I like breathing.” She says softly and Kurt catches Todd’s eye as they both sheepishly relax their grip. 

“I’m happy you’re safe.” Kurt says, pressing a kiss to Tabby’s hair as Todd hums agreement, resting his lips on her forehead. Tabby ruffles up the fur on the back of Kurt’s hand, smoothing it back down with her thumb.

“I’ve gone to Callisto too, the Morlocks don’t ask questions, and Evan gets it.” Tabby says, “But It feels good sometimes. To run away. To have someplace that knows nothing about Xavier or Magneto or their divorce drama. To have someone think I’m a teenage runaway for normal reasons, not because old men keep trying to use me as a weapon.” 

“You’re not a weapon.” Kurt says, at the same time that Todd goes, “As if any crusty fucker could hope to cage you.” 

Tabby reaches back and squeezes Kurt’s leg with her ankles, and he feels her shift, probably pulling Todd closer. 

“Neither of you deserve cages either.” She says, “You don’t exist just to jump because some asshole says it’s for the betterment of mutant-kind. Who the fuck are they to decide what mutant-kind needs?” 

“What, you don’t think all of us fucking off to magic floating island where the Avengers or some shit could easily shoot us down would solve all our problems, Tabs?” Todd asks and Kurt snorts. 

“Maybe we should all smile and never yell during press conferences with the people who want to shoot us with giant robots and then the government will give us all rights.” Kurt says. 

“I mean, you wear the monkey suit so well fuzz, the khakis really ease people’s panic about the whole mutant menace thing.” Todd says. 

Kurt hums, “Ja, und helping create the schematics for the weird mutation laser or developing artificial gravity systems for the big mutant resort in the sky definitely is a good use of your brain.” 

Tabby’s hand tangles in Kurt’s hair and he swallows against the prickle of goosebumps that break out along his neck. Todd falls quiet on Tabby’s other side, his face flushing as Tabby’s other hand fists in his own hair. They lock eyes and Kurt bites his lip to keep from laughing. Todd sticks his tongue out at him, Kurt blows a raspberry back. Tabby tugs on them both. He can see the corner of her mouth quirk up at the way their breath hitches. 

“You’re both joking, but you know this shit isn’t funny.” Tabby says, that smile fading. 

Kurt blows out a breath, tipping his head back to look at the plastic glow stars Tabby’s dotted across her ceiling.

“You gotta laugh about it, Tabs, elsewise you go crazy and gnaw your leg out of the bear trap. You know that.” Todd says and Kurt’s eyes catch on the serious lines of the amphibious mutant’s face, that wide mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“Don’t chew any limbs off yet.” Kurt says, “We’re talking tomorrow, I know some people who are good at breaking traps.” 

Todd rolls his eyes, “Yeah yeah, your mysterious mutant contacts in Europe. Though if you have them, I dunno why you’re here, dawg.” 

Kurt sits up a bit, and Tabby tips back to watch his face, like they haven’t had this conversation-sometimes-fight a million times before. 

“Now that I know what’s happening, it seems pretty fucked up to leave all my friends and sister in gilded cages while I get to fly.” Kurt says, then matches Todd’s stare, “Seems pretty fucked up to leave you and the Brotherhood in the hands of a madman who’d experiment on a baby.” 

Todd groans, lips twisting up in a sneer, “None of us are asking you to save us. Don’t give me the Saint Nightcrawler bullshit.” 

Kurt’s hackles rise and he fights the urge to snarl, a growl slipping out without his permission. He feels Tabby tense, the hand she has on his hip heating up. Guilt worms in his guts. He shuts his eyes and sucks in a breath, staring into the mottled darkness beneath his lids as he wills away the reflex to snap at Todd, to accuse him of twisting his intentions. He goes back to staring at the ceiling, afraid of what he might say if he meets that burning red and amber stare. 

“None of you need rescuing by someone else. But I cannot claim to be a friend to any of you if I know shit that can help but pack up and go home.” Kurt says, sighing as he turns to look back at Todd, “Herr professor found me halfway around the world and out of all the mutants his creepy machine spots, he decided I was useful. What makes you think he would not chase me if I left now? What about Magneto says he would leave an old experiment alone, now that he knows I live and breathe and chill under the professor’s roof?” 

Todd holds his stare for a long minute before blowing out a raspberry, dropping onto his back like he’s been shoved, “I rescind my accusation. You’re just as fucked as we are, blueberry.” 

Tabby snarls between them, a sharp noise that makes both mutants jump, “I refuse to be fucked by a pair of egomaniacal old bastards.” 

Kurt makes a strangled noise in his throat and Todd outright laughs, tipping his head to nuzzle Tabby’s hair.

“You know, Booms, it’s good to have boundaries about who you will and won’t get fucked by.” Todd says and Tabby groans, laughing as she slaps at them both. 

“Oh gross.” She says, hiccuping around her laughter, “That’s fucking nasty, I regret my phrasing.” 

“No, no, I think it really makes your point.” Kurt says, “I also do not want any of us to be fucked by egomaniacal old bastards, unless we are getting paid. Or you’re into that, Todd, no judgment, live your life.”

Todd reaches around Tabby to thump Kurt in the shoulder, “Not fucking anyone with more than twenty years on me unless they’re bankrolling my shit, dawg.” 

“See, that’s an exit strategy.” Kurt says at the same time that Tabby pats Todd’s arm going, “Way to have a business plan, Toddles, get that funding.”

They lapse into silence, tension slipping out of them as they slump against each other.

“My mom’s old bestie offered to let me stay with her. Out in California.” Tabby says softly, voice muffled by Todd’s shirt.

Kurt freezes, feelings rolling through him like a tide, hope that Tabby has someone, even a distant someone, pride that she reached out to the woman despite the misgivings they’d talked about more than once, fear that she means she’s leaving now tired of this though he can’t blame her, anxiety about when he’ll see her again, joy that she’s told him something about her life, guilt that she only shares after she’s cried in his arms like she can’t help it any more. He shakes himself, doing some mental math.

“That’s only a five hour flight to Hawaii.” He says, thinking of the way Tabby reaches for Amara whenever the girls are close together, how they gravitate towards one another, orbiting like twin suns. 

Tabby hums, shrugging, she keeps her head tucked under Todd’s chin, face turned into her faded green bedspread, “If I go there though, that place won’t really be mine either.”

“Not at first, but maybe with time it could be.” Kurt says, running his hand along her arm, swallowing the well-trod argument that the places she’s in now belong to her, too. 

“Where do you want to be yours?” Todd asks, tone making Kurt wonder how often he’s had the same argument with Tabby, probably sitting in this same room. Tabby sighs, unburying her face to study the blotchy blue paint and glowing plastic stars on her ceiling. 

“Someplace where people can actually be happy, mutants or whatever. I want to actually give a shit about people. Not pretend to, the way Professor Egghead does. I want to lead without scaring the shit out of everyone underneath me like Mystique or Magneto. I want a community of weirdoes, where we aren’t fucking dodging giant robots or making big goddamn speeches on screens. I want us to be happy. I want to be happy. To be someone that helps people.” Tabby says.

Kurt presses his lips to Tabby’s temple, “So what I’m hearing is we need to find you a small town to take over.” 

“Mayor Boom Boom.” Todd says, “I’ll be your campaign manager, pro bono.” 

Tabby snorts jostling them both, “I’m not trying to have my own flying asteroid resort.” 

Kurt cups Tabby’s face, gently tugging her head to look back at him, “We know. You care too much about the world to pretend it doesn’t exist.” 

There’s a knock on the door and the three of them tip their heads up to look. Tabby calls out a “yeah” and Wanda’s voice answers through the hollow wood. 

“The others wanna know why all your shit’s abandoned on the kitchen table with Lance’s razor and a bunch of your hair.” Wanda says, her voice warm with amusement. 

Tabby grabs her hair, laughing, “Shit. I forgot.” 

“Would you like the rest of that haircut, liebling, or do you want the asymmetrical look?” Kurt asks and Tabby spanks him. That same hand comes up and tangles in his hair, pulling him in at an angle that should probably hurt. But Tabby’s lips slide against his firework hot and Kurt’s thoughts short out. He hums low in the back of his throat. Wanda groans through the door, kicking it with a thump and embarrassment prickles down Kurt’s neck.

“Are you gonna be done with that soon, Freddy wants the kitchen back.” Wanda calls through the door and Kurt hides his face in Tabby’s shoulder as she and Todd snicker. 

“We’ll wrap it up real quick.” Todd says, infusing as much innuendo as he can into the words. Kurt bites his lip to hold in his laughter at the shorter mutant's leer, but Tabby doesn't bother.

Tabby hoots, “Tell Freddy the beauty shop’ll move in 15 minutes.” 

Wanda pauses on the other side of the door and the trio share nervous giddy looks, giggling breaking out between them. 

“Of course all three of you are there.” She mutters, seemingly to herself, “If you’re doing haircuts, I need a trim, I’m looking like one of the fucking Beatles.”

“Nah, sweetcheeks, they wish they looked as good as you.” Todd calls, and Kurt and Tabby both swat him at the same time. “What? It’s true.” 

“Leaving now, please keep the screaming to a minimum,” Wanda says, and Tabby lets out a long wavering moan that makes the fur along Kurt’s spine stand up and Todd’s face flush.

“2/10, I know you’re faking, Booms.” Wanda says, her heavy footsteps fading away down the hallway.

Kurt raises an eyebrow as he glances down at Tabby, “How does she know you’re faking?” 

Tabby grins at him, “Girls’ secret.” 

He snorts, Todd huffing a shaky laugh behind her, “Are you sure you want to go down?”

Tabby runs her hands over their arms, Kurt wonders what they feel like to her, short fur and smooth cool skin, “Yeah, I’m sure. But let’s stay like this til our 15 minutes are up.” 

Kurt catches Todd’s eye, heart skipping at the softness in his expression when the shorter mutant’s eyes flick up from studying Tabby’s face to meet his. He quirks a smile, settling down against Tabby again and Todd follows suit.

“Sounds good.” Todd says as Kurt mumbles a quiet yes into Tabby’s hair.

They drift back downstairs after closer to half an hour, but Freddy does little more than scoff and wave them over to the kitchen chair he’s piled all their stuff around. Scott had followed Lance over to the Brotherhood house, dropping off Amara, Rogue and Kitty on the condition that they all give Kurt and Tabby scolding looks that they only half fulfill. Amara stops short when she walks up to Tabby, her usual quiet confidence slipping until the blond closes the gap between them, wrapping her arms around her. Kurt feels a knot untangle in his chest at the way Amara kisses Tabby’s ear, whispering something too low for him to hear. 

His tail wraps around a cool wrist without thinking and he shoots Todd a sheepish look, ears flicking down, but the soft edge to the shorter mutant’s smirk keeps him from pulling away. Then Tabby is turning back to them demanding they both finish what they started. He ends up giving the entire house a trim, each person hopping from the chair in front of him to wait their turn to fill the one in front of Todd as he graffities their finger and toenails with the same focus he gives to desks and undoubtedly alley walls and billboards. At the end of the night, everyone’s done save Todd and Kurt, and the amphibious mutant hesitates when Kurt thumps the back of the empty chair for him to sit. 

“You don’t need to, dawg.” Todd says, “I can get it.” 

“But you don’t have to, though no pressure.” Kurt answers, leaning back a bit.

Pietro ruffles Todd’s hair, he’d only sat for Kurt to give him a trim after watching the rest of the Brotherhood go and not lose an ear, “You’ve got such a masterpiece going on here, Toddles.” 

Todd swats him away, scrunching his nose, he runs his hand through his hair straightening out the muss the speedster made of it, “I was kinda thinking of growing it out.” 

“I could just give you a trim?” Kurt offers.

Todd doesn’t say anything, just sticks his head under the sink to wet it the way the others had. He flings his head back without squeezing out the excess, spraying Lance and Pietro. Kitty lets the water phase through her where she’s sitting painting Rogue’s toenails with gloved hands. The two boys hiss and grunt at Todd, but the shorter mutant hops out of reach before they can grab him. He flips the chair in front of Kurt around to straddle it and Kurt snorts. 

“Too cool to sit in the chair normal?” He asks, wondering if Todd’s hips hurt like Kurt’s do when he sits up straight too long.

“Got a reputation to uphold, bluebell.” Todd drawls, blowing Kurt a kiss over his shoulder. “C’mon, make me pretty.” 

Kurt runs a comb through Todd’s hair from the ends up, careful not to pull when the teeth catch on a tangle. “Too late, there’s no work for me to do.” 

Todd kicks back at him, but doesn’t bother to aim, ducking his head. Kurt hisses, tugging his hair a bit and Todd tilts his head back up. 

“Just the ends?” Kurt asks and Todd nods.

“Yeah, unless my shit’s really fucked up.” Todd says and Kurt hums, running his fingers through Todd’s hair. 

“Nah, your hair’s really soft, a trim should be fine to let it grow.” He says, voice low as he feels Todd relax under his touch.

They lapse into quiet, the chatter of the others washing over them like a wave. Todd’s hair is nearly past his shoulders, even at the front where he’s kept it in some kind of bangs limbo for the last couple of years. Kurt extends the claw on his second finger, using the tip to separate out sections as he goes, and the first time he skims his nail along Todd’s scalp the shorter mutant gives a little shiver that makes Kurt swallow. The blue mutant focuses on Todd’s hair to avoid getting lost in the sound of Todd’s slow breathing, that clear green smell of him. The trim goes fast and Kurt feels a little twinge of disappointment as he squeezes Todd’s shoulder and lets him know he can get up. Todd makes a low noise in the back of his throat, shaking himself a bit.

“It past your bedtime, Toddles?” Tabby asks and Todd shoots her a dirty look, giving her the finger before he turns back to Kurt, hooking a hand in the hem of the taller mutant’s shirt and tugging him in.

Kurt catches himself against Todd’s back, blinking down at him as a cool broad palm slides up to cup the back of his neck, drawing him down. Todd pauses when they’re close enough Kurt can feel his breath ghost over his lips. They both have garlic breath from dinner, but it isn’t cloying enough to stop the prickle of goosebumps that break out along Kurt’s arms and neck as Todd murmurs a soft “thanks, babe” before pressing a softer kiss to Kurt’s lips that he gets lost in. Someone flings a damp towel over their heads and they break the kiss, laughing against each other’s mouths. Those amber red eyes glow at him in the dark.

“I can’t tell if this was meant to encourage or discourage us.” Kurt says, pitching his voice loud enough to be heard through the damp terry cloth. 

The towel whips off them, Pietro hissing as he zips away, “Definitely discouragement.” 

“Please, not in front of me.” Rogue drawls, “You don’t want a touch-up critter?” 

Kurt’s hand drifts up to rub where his undercut is starting to curl over his fur, double the length of his short coat and he grimaces. “I should probably take the clippers to this, yeah.” 

“I gotchu.” Todd says next to his ear and Kurt jerks, getting caught in those marbled eyes again. Todd seems to take his look as doubting, nudging Kurt’s shoulder with his knuckles, “Look I can cut inside the lines.” 

Kurt snorts, plucking up the guard that matches his fur length best and dropping it in Todd’s palm as they trade places. “The one place you’re on the straight and narrow?” 

“You know it, blue.” Todd says, twirling a finger until Kurt puts his back to him. A webbed hand runs through his hair and Kurt presses his tongue to one fang, swallowing the sigh that rises in his chest at the touch, “Shit, your hair’s mad thick. Surprises me every time.” 

Kurt hums, Todd’s fingers haven’t stopped their exploration, coming through his hair in long smooth strokes that melt away the lingering tension from the afternoon.

“I’ve choked clippers before. Probably the fur thing.” He says. 

“How often did you cut your shit weird before you figured out what guard length to use?” Todd asks, then his fingertips trail down Kurt’s scalp, tapping lightly along his neck, fluttering his hair, “Lift this up for me baby, don’t want you to kill me if I clip the wrong parts.” 

Kurt obliges, gathering his hair up on the crown of his head, fighting the shiver that runs through him as Todd strokes a finger along his bare neck. Todd makes a soft noise Kurt doesn’t know what to make of behind him and then the buzz of the clippers drowns out the room around them. Todd’s free hand comes to the edge of Kurt’s hairline, marking the point where his undercut ends and his longer hair begins. He’s steady and firm, running the clippers in smooth lines up from the base of Kurt’s skull to the end of the shave line. His palm cups the back of Kurt’s head and the blue mutant fights the urge to lean back into that touch. It isn’t a big section of hair and Todd finishes it in five minutes that feel like an eternity but also the blink of an eye. Kurt sighs as Todd’s hands sweep away the stray clumps of hair along Kurt’s shoulders and neck. Then, because they’re pretending in this crowded kitchen, Kurt dips back before Todd steps out of reach, hooking his hands behind Todd’s back to draw him into an upside-down kiss that he feels the shorter mutant smile into.

“Alright lovebirds, we’ve lollygagged enough.” Rogue says, voice expanding Kurt’s world back to the kitchen full of mutant teens from where it was narrowing to a wide mouth on his and a firm back under his hands. 

He sighs, breaking the kiss to sit up, shooting Todd his best puppy eyes, “Remember me fondly when I am cleaning forever the next week.” 

“Wait, are you not gonna be able to make it tomorrow?” Lance asks, pulling away from the game of Speed he and Wanda are in. He curses as Wanda goes out, shooting him a smug look. His nails are painted in swirls that look like slices of geodes, and sparkling purple flashes as he gives her the finger.

Kurt shakes his head, but Amara answers before he can, “You should be good, Mom and Dad are running interference for our fuzzball, trying to get him lenience for extenuating circumstances.” 

The Brotherhood kids all shoot one another confused looks and Kurt snorts, “Considering I’m pretty sure Scott’s the one who got me an unexpected brain call, I appreciate the rescue.” 

Kitty snorts, “You know he can’t help it, Professor X is practically his dad.” 

Kurt sighs, standing up, planting a kiss on Todd’s cheek as he rises. “I can still be annoyed about it. C’mon, the blue express line leaves in five minutes.” 

The others all mill around, seeking out book bags and shoveling carefully copied homework back inside. Todd catches his hand before Kurt can grab his stuff, tugging him a bit. 

“You gonna be good?” Todd asks and Kurt smiles, squeezing his hand. 

“If I show up to school tomorrow not knowing my middle name, send for help.” He says, and Todd rolls his eyes. 

“I don’t know your middle name to check that, dawg, you could tell me anything.” He says, shoving Kurt’s shoulder.

The blue mutant laughs, “Trick question, I don’t have a middle name.” 

Todd groans, “I’ll keep that in mind for future brain security questions.” 

Tabby sidles up to them before the others reach, biting her lip, it’s starting to chap from all the attention. 

“Ready?” She asks and Kurt’s heart skips at the anxiety creeping on the edges of her face. 

“You don’t have to go back tonight.” He says, tail winding around her leg gently. 

“I’m not running away from an old man with a bad brow job who thinks he’s superior because he swallowed an oxford thesaurus.” Tabby says. 

“You think that’s part of his mutation, poshness and a look of constant surprise?” Todd asks and Kurt chuckles. 

“C’mon you two, quit canoodling with your favorite delinquent.” Rogue calls from where she and the other X-kids have gathered in the kitchen doorway, and really Kurt thinks it's unfair he has to go to them considering he’s the mode of transportation here.

“This isn’t canoodling,” Tabby says then she’s reeling Todd in and Kurt stops breathing as he watches those chapped pink lips slide against that wide smooth mouth. Todd hesitates only a moment before the hand not in Kurt’s tangles in her freshly cut hair. He tilts his head with a sigh, tongue darting out to swipe Tabby’s lips and her short pink tongue runs along his long green one. Kurt feels like he might catch fire. He shifts to let go of them both, but Todd’s hand tightens around his, those red eyes darting to his as he tugs him closer. Tabby breaks away from Todd to pull Kurt down, drawing him into a fast deep kiss that Kurt scarcely has time to process before he’s shoved away into Todd. He doesn’t even think when Todd’s hand breaks away from his, reaching out and tangling in still damp brown hair as their lips crash together. He absently hears Tabby give a little whoop beside them as he licks his way into that cool mouth. Todd groans then presses his tongue past Kurt’s lips and the blue mutant shudders. 

“Please don’t addle the teleporter before he takes us across town.” Amara calls, “I don’t want to end up stuck in a tree or something, since I’m you know, combustible.” 

“Oh my gosh, come on you guys.” Kitty says and Tabby giggles, hooking her arm through Kurt’s as he and Todd pull away. Kurt nearly dives back in at the fire in those red amber eyes, but Tabby’s dragging him away and he sighs, blowing Todd a kiss. 

“Night, kaulquappe.” He says and jumps when all the Brotherhood echo him and Todd groans in a very different tone, rolling his eyes. 

“Be careful, blueberry.” Todd calls, catching the kiss before blowing one back and Kurt ducks his head as he ports them all to cover the smile that blooms on his face at that absurd gesture. 

Jean and Scott are truly magicians, because Kurt isn’t even grounded. He gets a stern growl from Logan with a short lecture about academic commitment from the Professor before he’s told to go to his room for the evening and catch up on his studies. He shoots the others an exaggerated pout as he slinks past the living area where Kitty, Amara, Rogue and Tabby have joined the movie night in progress. Tabby shoots him a worried look and he breaks the pout, smiling and giving her a thumbs up. Jean waves at him and Scott gives him a thumbs up before flipping him the bird and Kurt laughs as he ports onto his bed, grabbing his pillow as he lands. He lies there a moment, straining his sensitive ears to hear the distant sounds of the television and the others chattering downstairs before he sighs into the too quiet of his too big too empty room. He hops up and opens his window, resisting the urge to push his luck by vaulting out into the night and instead rescues a half finished book from underneath the pile of semi-clean clothes he dumped on his dresser. 

He should really shower to get rid of the itchy prickle of the little stray hairs on his neck and shoulders, but he drops onto the floor after stripping off his shirt, cracking open the book. He stirs when Bobby and Ray amble into their room some time close to lights out, the sound of human voices is enough comfort to motivate him up and to the shower. If he grins to himself as the other boys whine as he beats them to the bathroom, well that’s his secret.

Chapter Text

“Hey. We don’t have long to talk.” Kurt says and Todd feels like he’s about to jump out of his skin as he hits the speaker button on his phone. 

The Brotherhood woke up to Tabby sitting faux casually on the couch this morning, eating Lucky Charms directly from the box and drinking coffee. Half the X-Geeks were out on a mission. Kurt managed to drop her at the Brotherhood place around three in the morning without waking anyone before apparently flying the Blackbrid to fuck knows where.. Tabby had been left out of the meeting, and couldn’t give the others any idea of what was happening or when the X-Geeks would be back.

“Hey yourself, what the fuck is going on?” Todd asks, leg jumping as he perches in the rafters of the covered picnic area at the park. 

Pietro keeps shooting him dirty looks for the way the motion rattles loose decades of rust and pigeon crap, but the amphibious mutant can’t be bothered. His skin’s been crawling with nerves all day and Lance glaring him down was the only thing that kept him in class at all. The only reason he’s with the others in the park instead of across town rummaging through the junk yard for shit to fuck around with is Tabby said two of Kurt’s contacts could still meet with them after school. They’d been waiting about a half hour when Todd’s phone went off and all of them nearly brought the roof down on themselves jumping at the sound.

“Is Lance with you?” Kurt asks, his voice sounds hollow, more tired than Todd’s heard before and his stomach twists.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Lance says as Todd jumps down onto one of the picnic tables so the others don’t have to shout.

“Oh thank God, hi baby.” Kitty’s voice breaks in over the line. “I’m so sorry, my phone doesn’t have international service.”

“Where the fuck are you guys?” Tabby asks, pressing her hands into the table as she leans forward.

“Running around LARPing the Mummy in the fucking Nubian desert.” Amara says, and Todd jolts, for once fully believing the small mutant has the power to decimate a volcano by the rage and irritation in her voice.

Kurt sighs, sounding bone tired, “Please do not mention mummies right now. I don’t want the universe to hear and decide that’s funny enough to throw in.”

Freddy shoots Todd and Lance a panicked look, Todd shrugs as if all the blood hasn’t drained from his face. Tabby’s hand finds his knee and squeezes, knuckles white. Lance’s face takes on the same tightness it gets when Mystique starts barking at them, the look that says he wants to argue but knows anything he says will make it worse. Wanda and Pietro are bouncing sour looks back and forth between them, and Todd’s sure they’re in a private conversation in their heads. 

“What the hell kind of field trip are you on?” Pietro asks. 

“One that makes me miss that day we all got dumped in the verdammt woods.” Kurt says, sighing, and Todd can imagine him shoving a hand through his hair, tail lashing behind him, “Have paperclip magician and the unmother said anything about someone called Apocalypse?”

The Brotherhood all look at each other, faces reflecting the sour, tired anger of being kept in the dark again and again but expected to jump when called. 

“No. We haven’t heard anything about that.” Lance says and the X-Geeks all sigh on the other end of the line. 

“Have the contacts I mentioned shown up yet?” Kurt asks, and Pietro answers first. 

“No, what the fuck Wagnerd, they’re like an hour late.” Pietro says, vibrating in place.

“Sorry, your continent has so many time zones.” A voice says, and they all jump, heads whipping up to see what look like two silver fox beach daddies walking up with coffees in hand. One is broad and tan, soft around the middle with silver streaks in his shoulder length brown hair, his sleeves are rolled up to show thick forearms, purple suit jacket hooked over his shoulder by two fingers. The other is lean, familiar.

“You didn’t say one of them was your fucking dad, fuzz.” Todd says, voice distant in his own ears as he takes in the tall, red furred man wearing a pale yellow suit, he’s broader and more built than Kurt, angles of his face more squared, but the resemblance is uncanny. 

“Whatever gave you the impression Azazel and I are related?” Kurt says. 

The two men stop just shy of the paved platform of the picnic area, Azazel plants one foot on the edge of the platform and with a jolt Todd notices he’s wearing shoes, that five fingers grip the paper coffee cup. Lance, Freddy and Tabby look as wary as Todd feels, Lance shifting around to stand between the two men and the rest of them while Freddy pulls himself to full height. Tabby’s hand heats up on his knee. The twins are strangely silent, still where they’re usually restless. 

“Fuck you, Bluebell.” Todd says absently, eyeing the way Pietro’s practically cemented to the ground, how Wanda has his arm in a vice grip.

“Name the place and time, liebling.” Kurt quips and Todd’s face heats as the two men share a look. 

“Well, now we know which one the boyfriend is.” The broad man says. 

“Be nice to them.” Kurt calls over the phone, “They have enough adults kicking them around, don’t make me a liar for saying you were trustworthy.”

“We won’t blow any of them off a building, little miracle.” Azazel says. 

“That was once, the child’s a teleporter!” Purple suit says, smacking Azazel on the arm in a way that earns him an affectionate laugh from the red man. 

On the line Todd hears the distinct rumble of Daddy McStabby’s voice in the distance and Amara and Kitty curse at the same time while Kurt sighs, “Time’s up.”

“I love you, sunshine.” Amara says, voice loud like she’s leaning in. 

“I love you too, fire queen.” Tabby replies, a little wobble in her voice that has Todd squeezing her shoulder. 

“Stay cool, Lance, don’t bring down the house at the first thing, I’ve met them, they’re weird but good.” Kitty says and Lance laughs. 

“You too, baby, don’t run to the front of the fight. Please.” Lance says, turning back to look at the phone in Todd’s hand, voice quiet.

“You’re making up for ditching us.” Todd says and Kurt laughs, but then there’s another urgent shout on the line from Wolverine and he hisses. 

“Later.” Kurt says and the line goes dead. Todd stares down at his phone, running his thumb along the seam in the plastic for a long moment, trying to unknot his stomach.

“Uncle Rip.” Wanda says, and the stricken note in her voice, so much like when they woke her up from the mind freak’s control, makes Todd jerk up to look at her.

“Zelly?” Pietro asks, like an imaginary friend has appeared in front of him.

The two men jerk, like they’ve yanked a plug from the socket and gotten a shock. Rip puts a hand to his mouth, stroking over his beard as he goes pale underneath it. Azazel’s tail lashes behind him, reminding Todd of Kurt when he’s nervous. 

“Oh, I think we have more to talk about than expected.” Rip says, a watery note to his voice. “Come, come. Let’s sit.” 

Azazel holds up a plastic bag bulging with a long thin box, “We brought donuts. And I promise they’re not poisoned.” 

Kurt feels like he could lie down and sleep through the entire winter, or like he could port to the edge of the grounds and run until he reaches the bay then swim across it. It’s a miracle that he lands the X-Jet without crashing it into the dock, and Logan shoots him a silent concerned look as he pulls his hands from the yoke, flexing and stretching stiff joints. He drops his head back to the seat with a sigh.

“You still with me, elf?” The short mutant asks, ignoring the sounds of the others as they stretch and groan and make their way to the exit on wobbly legs.

“Did you know, what we would find there?” Kurt asks, looking down at his lap, letting his hair fall between himself and his teacher, part of him shying back from the answer. Silent, watching Logan. Logan who always sits with them when they’re angry. Logan who can sniff out when they’re behind on homework. Logan who explains a combat motion and an engine tune up with the same short steady sentences, who will explain again and again smooth as glass, patient where they need him to be. Logan who knew about Kurt being an experiment and didn’t say anything. Logan who trusts Professor. Logan who never explains his choices, when Sabretooth comes snarling in, when the Professor gives them an order.

Kurt blinks, eyes burning with more than leftover dryness from the desert. 

The older mutant sighs, a long low sound that rolls into a short growl at the end. Kurt hears the creak of his uniform as the man shifts. 

“I knew we were looking for Apocalypse. But the rest. No.” Logan says finally, “Thought we’d find some wackos with a cult. Not, zombie statues.” 

Kurt turns to look Logan in the eye and the older mutant matches his stare without flinching. Logan never flinches from his eyes, his hands. His grumbling when Kurt ports unexpectedly, or tracks dirt on the ceiling more like the complaints of his family back home than expressions of disgust. Kurt studies the tired lines of the older mutant’s face, searching for any hint of a slight of hand, another lie by omission in the endless chain of them that spirals through the mansion. The air between them smells like dry sand, the musty cool of the tomb they crawled through, old blood smearing the torn edges of their uniforms and their shared sweat, sharp with exhaustion. But he doesn’t smell a lie. Not that he expects to, Logan’s always good at covering that. 

He sighs, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Okay. Okay.” 

Logan stretches a hand across the gap between them, clapping Kurt on his uninjured shoulder, “Get cleaned up, then go see the doc about that arm.” 

“Ja, Kommandant.” Kurt says, teasing. Logan ruffles his hair as they stand. He holds out a hand in a silent offer, but Logan waves him off.

"Don't think I need anymore jostling by taking the express route.” Logan says rolling his shoulders, but Kurt hears the smile in his voice as he ports to the showers.

Todd falls off the television set when he hears the miniature thunderclap of Kurt porting in the Brotherhood foyer, late Saturday evening. Tabby vaults over the back of the couch, and Lance accidentally elbows Freddy in the gut fumbling after her, so Todd feels like his clumsiness is not the most embarrassing response in the room. 

Azazel and Riptide came around noon to pick up the twins, something about a lead to find their mom, who’s apparently not dead but in another goddamn dimension, and they aren’t back yet. The entire thing felt like too much to process on top of the pins and needles that had him rolling over every inch of his mattress last nigh, finally giving up sleep to tinker in the basement, try and repair the battered washing machine they'd rescued from behind a repair shop, so he’s shelved that weird tidbit about his friends’ increasingly messy family shit for later.

By the time he leaps across the room, Lance has scooped Kitty up, her legs around his waist as her arms squeeze his shoulders, her face hidden in his neck. Amara and Tabby are up against the wall, Amara’s bag abandoned at their feet as their faces get physically reacquainted. Rogue rolls her eyes and slips right past Todd to drop into Wanda’s chair in the living room. Kurt almost runs into him in the living room doorway as he ambles away from the love fest. Todd jerks back onto two feet so fast he tips backwards and a warm three fingered hand catches his shoulder.

“Not how I intended to knock you off your feet.” He says, and Todd’s urge to roll his eyes is cut off at the knees by how drained the other mutant looks, the shadows that cling to his fur deeper than usual. 

He cups a blue furred cheek without thinking, running his thumb across the sharp line of Kurt’s cheekbone. “Fuck, fuzz, they bury you alive out there?” 

Kurt’s eyes slip shut and he leans into Todd’s touch. Then he keeps leaning, listing over, and Todd makes a panicked sound in his throat as he closes the distance between them, slipping his arms around the blue mutant’s waist to catch him. 

“Holy shit, warn a guy if you get a case of the vapors, blue. I didn’t prepare our fucking fainting couch.” Todd says, running his hands over the blue mutant’s back.

Kurt sighs against Todd’s neck, head resting heavy on Todd’s shoulder as he runs his hands over the shorter mutant’s arms. “Sorry. Long flight.” 

Kitty phases through Lance to stomp up to them, making him yelp and shudder. She looks barely any better than Kurt, hair down from its usual ponytail and slightly damp. Todd notices all four X-Geeks are in some variation of pajama pants and faded t-shirts, like they dressed for a sleepover.

“I knew we should have let Scott drive us.” Kitty says, hands on her hips as she glares at Kurt, who turns to give her a sulky look, not bothering to lift his head from Todd’s shoulder.

“He was too tired to drive back safely alone. And is terrible with alibis on a good day. ” Kurt says, his hands sliding under Todd’s arms to fist in the back of his shirt. Todd’s fairly certain if he stepped back right now the other mutant would drop to all fours, if not fall flat on his face.

Rogue grunts from Wanda’s armchair, dropping the paperback she’d fished out from the cushions onto her lap, “Tolansky, can you drag that scrawny muppet you’re holding in here so he’ll sit his ass down?” 

“Scrawny?” Kurt says, jerking upright and twisting to glare at his sister, but Todd can feel the wobbliness in the motion. He ducks forward, hooking an arm behind Kurt’s knees, keeping the other on his shoulders as he scoops him up. Kurt yelps, tail slapping Todd’s leg in protest. 

“You really gonna bullshit me that you can make your own way to the couch right now without falling over?” Todd asks, waiting for Kurt to stop squirming before he moves, even exhausted, the taller mutant’s strong enough to send them both sprawling if he doesn’t hold still. 

Kurt turns baleful eyes on Todd, and it’s like facing down a cat after you’ve dumped it in the full bathroom sink for a wash. He ducks forward and kisses the tip of Kurt’s nose. The blue mutant recoils, giving a little hiss, but stills, threading his arms around Todd’s neck to help hold himself up. 

“I could if I wanted to.” He mutters into the crook of Todd’s neck, and the amphibious mutant bites back a snicker as he hops over the couch, patting the blue mutant on the shoulder. He drops onto the cushion and lets Kurt down so he’s settled in Todd’s lap. He keeps his arm hooked around the taller mutant’s shoulders, running his hand across his back.

The others drift into the living room, Tabby and Amara joining the sofa and Kitty and Lance parking it on the pillow mountain on the floor. Amara glances around a moment, eyebrows scrunching. 

“Uh, where are the twins?” She asks, like she’s expecting more horrible news none of them want to deal with. 

“They’re on their way back.” Rogue says from where she’s tossed her legs over the arm of the chair, not looking up from the vampire novel she rescued from the seat. Todd recognizes it as part of a series her and Wanda keep passing back and forth. 

Lance holds up a hand, “How the hell do you know that?” 

Rogue shoots him a smirk, holding up her phone and wiggling it, “It’s called texting, sugar.” 

Lance grumbles, fishing his phone out of his hoodie pocket, “Those little shits didn’t text me---oh.” 

Kitty doesn’t look up from where her head’s resting on his lap, “You have a text, don’t you.” 

“Potentially.” Lance says and there’s a sound from the living room, a thunderclap in a different register, followed by chatter. 

Todd should probably find it weird that he can tell the difference between Azazel’s porting sound and Kurt’s, but they feel like different notes from the same instrument. The blue mutant in his lap stirs at the sound, body tensing from where he’d gone nearly limp against Todd’s chest. He lifts his head to peer over Todd’s shoulder.

“Was there any luck?” Freddy asks, twisting to look back over the couch as the twins traipse into the living room, trailed by Azazel and Riptide. Todd wonders if the older mutants own any casual clothes or just walk around in bright slacks and half opened, embroidered button downs at the Stop’N Go.

Pietro disappears then reappears with an armful of snacks. Todd can’t tell if he raided the local corner store or their pantry. Wanda snatches a pint of Chunky Munky from his arms, snarling when he hisses at her. 

“The coven set up a spell, but it could be months before they know anything.” Wanda says, opening the container and scooping out a bite with her finger. She sucks it off and continues, eyes studying the groove she’s carved in the creamy surface, “It’s been so many years, it makes it harder to find her magic signature or something.” 

Pietro makes a disgusted noise as Wanda sticks her finger back in the pint, “If I get you a spoon will you stop that?” 

Wanda loudly sucks her finger clean, staring down her brother. She pulls it from her mouth with a pop, “Only one way to find out.” 

There’s a groan and Pietro vanishes before reappearing, beside Wanda, who now holds a spoon in her sticky fingers. She uses the handle to scoop another bite, and Todd bites his lip, snickering as Pietro looks like he might explode. The speedster huffs, striding into the living room and perching on the back of the couch. He dumps the armful of snacks in an avalanche that falls across Freddy, Amara and Tabby’s laps. Todd nabs the giant hot pickle with his tongue before Pietro can protest, then a package of peanut butter cups when Kurt whispers in his ear. He ignores the shudder that ripples through him when the blue mutant's breath ghosts over his ear.

Pietro glares at them, opening a bag of hot chips in what’s probably meant to be a threatening manner but just succeeds in sending a puff of red dust out onto his powder blue shirt. 

“So it might be months before we see mom again.” He says, half assedly brushing the dust off himself before digging into the bag with a pair of chopsticks, “But, they’re certain she’s alive. And somebody gets to do special magic lessons with mom’s lesbian witch coven.”

Wanda flicks condensation from the ice cream container into her brother’s hair as she crosses the room to share her chair with Rogue, “They’re not all lesbians.” 

“Uh, pretty sure they weren’t just gal pals, Wandy.” Pietro says.

“Wait---you don’t have to go to that scary old broad anymore who tells you Yoda shit?” Todd asks, leaning forward to look at Wanda around the others until Kurt makes a little cranky noise from nearly tipping out of his lap. 

Wanda smiles, actually smiles and Todd feels a grin spread across his own face in response, the rest of the Brotherhood all matching the expression. 

“Good.” Freddy says, in that emphatic way he uses when he decides what movie they’re sneaking into when everyone keeps bickering. 

“It should have happened long ago. For that I am sorry.” Azazel says as he and Riptide settle on the window seat together. 

Pietro shrugs, staring into his chip bag and rustling it, “It’s not like any of us remembered each other existed til yesterday.” 

“Uh, maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, but, could someone clue us in since we walked in late?” Kitty asks, sitting up and leaning against Lance. 

“You know that mind freak we mentioned Daddy Mags having on his payroll?” Lance asks, wrapping an arm around Kitty’s shoulder, she nods. “Apparently he’s been on that payroll a while.”

“God children.” Riptides says, pointing to Wanda and Pietro.

“Godfathers.” Azazel continues, pointing to himself and Riptide. 

Freddy looks between the twins and Kurt, “Does that make y’all cousins or something?” 

Kurt and the twins exchange glances. Through the exhaustion Kurt has that amused look he gets when he catches Todd fucking around in class, Wanda catches his eye and that little twist to her lips is back. Pietro looks at the both of them with the same exasperation he gets when the others screw with his careful organization of the upstairs bathroom. 

“No.” Pietro says, angrily crunching a chip as he flicks the chopsticks between Kurt and Wanda, “Our family situation is fucked up enough as it is without being honorary cousins with the furball.” 

Kurt’s tail winds slow through the air, flicking against Amara’s leg and Todd’s arm with each loop, a grin spreading across his face, “You don’t want to acknowledge your reject cousin from backwater Europe? And here I was ready to make matching friendship bracelets.” 

“I’ll take one.” Wanda says, leaning over the arm of the chair to look at Kurt, and Rogue throws an arm around her waist to steady her, “I want to see what daddy dearest does if all his discards adopt each other.” 

Freddy stomps his foot hard enough the coffee table jumps. Everyone jerks, turning to him. “Y’all aren’t rejects or discards just ‘cause a weird old man fucked you around.” 

“Frederick!” Tabby says, getting up on her knees to ruffle the taller blond’s mohawk. 

“Pretty sure this house is a royal flush of rejects and discards Freddo, but it ain’t on us the world lacks refined taste.” Todd drawls to cover the little flair of warmth blooming in his chest. Then Kurt laughs and the flare blazes.

“Why do you look like you got in a fight with a combine harvester and lost?” Azazel says, stalking across the room like a big cat to crouch in front of Todd and Kurt. 

Todd tugs Kurt in closer on automatic. The older mutant has been cool so far, asking them a lot of questions about their skills and shit they actually like doing, like a conman career counselor, but cool and safe aren’t the same thing. Kurt doesn’t even flinch when locking eyes with his birth dad. Side by side, Todd notices Kurt’s eyes are more yellow to Azazel’s orangey gold, closer to Mystique’s coloring. 

“Okay, I can probably guess, but who the hell are you to ask?” Amara says, from where she and Tabby are cuddled up next to them on the couch. 

Two sets of gold eyes swivel to the girls, but neither of them flinch under the pupiless stares. Kurt smiles, warm and soft as his tail squeezes the brown skinned mutant’s arm. Azazel smiles and it’s the sharp, hunting smile Kurt’s thrown Todd across battlefields.

“Fathers. Once.” Azazel says, pointing between him and Riptide, before pointing at Kurt. “Baby. Once, presumed dead.”

“Teenager. Surprisingly not dead juggling knives in the middle of a crowded piazza.” Riptide says pointing at Kurt, before pointing between Azazel and himself, then waving his hand in the air and shrugging, “Unfathers? Mysterious, yet handsome mercenary mentors?”

“Und so humble.” Kurt mutters, shooting Azazel a dry look. 

“Oi, I gave you half your genetics, you better hope I’m handsome.” Azazel says, pointing his tail at Kurt. 

“They’re legit.” Rogue says, “Me, Kitty, Scott and Evan all met them both over the past couple summers. And Kurt’s mom and dad trust them.” 

“Dibs kind of expires on a child when it’s been fifteen years since you last saw them.” Riptide comments, shrugging his shoulders. 

Azazel laughs, the sound layered over in mirth and grief under hope and something bitter, “Probably better the circus than our line of work for a child.” 

Amara looks back and forth between Kitty and Rogue before squaring her shoulders and staring down the two older mutants, “We were supposed to have this boring desert mission, then crap went Tomb Raider and Kurt saved our asses from getting buried alive by giving a freaky living statue thing the run around long enough for us to nail it, but not before it nailed him right into a hole full of spinny murder that tried to shred him.” 

Todd kinda wishes they’d timed her, she might have beaten Pietro with that explanation, then what she actually says clicks and he squawks. It must land for the others at the same time because the room erupts in noise. 

Kurt shoots Amara a betrayed look, but she taps her fingers hard on the tip of his tail. 

“We’ve known each other for like, three years and been dating the same girl for nearly two, I’m upgrading our friendship level to where I get to call your bullshit before you try to spin it.” Amara says, poking the spade of Kurt’s tail for emphasis. Kurt laughs, wrapping his tail around her fingers.

“Deal, though you exaggerated a bit.” Kurt says and Amara raises an eyebrow.

“Did I?” She asks.

“Fuzz, what’s she mean about ‘almost getting shredded’?” Todd asks and Kurt shrinks in his arms, ducking his face behind his package of stolen peanut butter cups. 

There’s a banging at the front door, and Todd groans, certain it’s the old cranky bastard a few houses down who keeps bitching about their crooked porch. He thought he got the guy off their back a month ago when he fixed his shitty lawnmower, but apparently meddling can’t be bought off. Lance must have the same idea from the way he curses under his breath, heaving himself off the floor like he’s considering bringing their front porch down on the old fuck’s head.

“The sun’s been down at least two hours, shouldn’t the old fuck be asleep in front of C-Span.” He mutters to himself as he traipses towards the front door.

“I still say we should steal the old man’s little rat dog. Make him our new mascot and give Toddles a promotion.” Pietro calls and Todd steals a bag of Funyuns, giving the speedster the finger.

“We can’t steal a man’s dog, ‘Tro. Not when he actually takes care of it anyway.” Freddy counters, frowning as he plucks a hot chip from Pietro’s chopsticks.

“Summers what the fuck are you doing here?” Lance’s voice drifts back to them from the front entryway, and they all crane their necks to look. Except Kurt, who continues to scrunch himself in a suspiciously guilty ball in Todd’s lap, shoving a large peanut butter cup in his mouth whole.

"I'm here, because someone." Scott says in a tone most people would say 'this motherfucker' "left his damn pain medication on the boys’ bathroom counter unopened." 

Scott stomps his way to the living room doorway, wearing a faded hoodie that Todd’s surprised to see cut into a crop top and grey sweatpants. He’s holding a crumpled white bag in his hand that he thrusts in Kurt’s direction the second he catches sight of the top of a blue head nestled under Todd’s chin. He rattles the bag ominously at Kurt, who flinches, tail arching and ears back like a guilty dog, even as a huffy look takes over his face. Lance trails behind Scott, shooting Kitty a look and mouthing ‘what the fuck.’

"I was going to take it." Kurt says, though his delivery is unconvincing with his eyes on the worn living room rug. 

"When?” Scott says, dropping one hand to the back of the couch and leaning over to get in Kurt’s face, and Todd thinks this might be the closest he’s ever been to an angry Cyclops when that anger wasn’t for him, “Don't act like you all didn't pack to stay here overnight, buddy, I got your number."

"You don't know, the area code might be wrong." Kurt says around another peanut butter cup. 

"Critter,” Rogue says, like Kurt’s a cat that’s gone belly up and wide-eyed after knocking all the flowerpots off the windowsill, “Everyone knows you bounce off the walls after missions, and considering the number of walls something bounced you off this time around, you have to be hurting."

“Look, I know you have that paranoia thing about being out of it, but the likelihood of you being abducted literally surrounded by people who don't want that to happen is pretty low buddy. I’m assuming you trust your boyfriend not to let you get kidnapped.” Scott says, adjusting his glasses with a finger.

Kurt jerks in Todd’s arms, actually looking insulted, “Of course I trust him.” He swivels to look Todd in the eyes, and Todd’s heart ratchets up high enough the blue mutant has to feel it, “For real, I do.” 

“But fucking off into the woods like you usually do while exhausted and injured sounds like a great recipe for getting your ass nabbed.” Kitty says, throwing a pillow in he and Todd’s direction. Todd kicks it away before it lands, anxiety starting to worm in his chest around how hurt the other mutant might be. 

He opens his mouth a little, tasting the air. Kurt’s smell-taste is as usual, with that sour edge that comes from stress underneath the strong woodsy scent of his soap---shampoo? Does someone with fur even use soap?---but underneath it is the bitterness of antiseptic and the sharp tang of blood.

“Blueberry, exactly how bad was that murder hole?” Todd asks, looking down at the other mutant. 

Kurt doesn’t meet his eyes, squishing the hot pickle around in its plastic wrapper, making it squelch in that hilarious gross way. “I’ve had worse.”

“Said murder hole may possibly have resulted in several hematomas across the back and legs, as well as multiple lacerations, on top of prolonged exhaustion from heavy activity without sufficient sleep over the last 48 hours.” says the Beast, casually strolling into their living room wearing an oversized cardigan and faded plaid pants, “Though, I cannot confirm anything, as that would be a violation of privacy, you understand.”

Pietro whips around so fast to yell at Lance Freddy has to grab his knee to keep him on the couch, “You let the Beast in?” 

“Actually, Mr. Maximoff, Mr. Alvers left the front door open.” McCoy says, and Todd’s still caught up on whatever the fuck a hematoma is along with the phrase ‘multiple lacerations’, “I was waiting on the front porch to escort Mr. Summers back home, but couldn’t help but overhear. Given that several of my charges appear to be staying here tonight, I thought it best to ensure their circumstances and needs were clear.” 

Lance shrugs at Pietro, “His chemistry class was fucking great and he said he’s not here on Baldy’s orders. Medical truce.”

Beast nods, lips quirking in an almost invisible smirk, hands clasped in front of him, “As one of my most precocious students, it’s an honor to have your high esteem Mr. Alvers.”

Then he swivels towards the sofa, sidling up next to Scott and plucking the paper bag from his hand, examining it, “Tell me, Mr. Wagner, was there a question you had about your medication? I notice you successfully took your antibiotics, so I presume you’re familiar with the concept of oral medication, so it cannot be that.” He tears the bag open, plucking the bottle out to tilt it this way and that, “They’re in the same type of bottle, so accessing the medication was not the issue either. We discussed the dosage and what to take them with as well as possible side effects, but no concerns were raised.” 

Kurt’s ears go back flat against his skull, eyes flicking up and away like he’s considering a jumping off point. McCoy seems to catch him and sighs. 

“You can back up all the way to the ceiling if you like, but you know I can meet you up there.” He says, then continues more quietly, “What a mess we’ve made if even in attempting to heal you, you expect further harm.” 

Todd twitches at the words, eyes flicking over the room and catching how all the X-Geeks won’t look at their teacher, studying the faded rug and furniture rescued from curbsides and dumpsters, the walls graffitied over with swirling murals. Kurt goes still and tense in Todd’s arms. 

The doctor’s eyes catch Azazel’s over Todd and Kurt’s head and the red mutant holds out his hand for the medication. After a beat, McCoy passes it over, fur rasping as it brushes over the sofa by Todd’s head and he notices the blue is lighter than Kurt’s, he catches the long garbled name on the label and it looks like an alien name from Star Trek or some shit. Riptide wanders over to look over Azazel’s shoulder as he reads the medication bottle, humming lightly in his throat. 

“You always pass out after taking this one, wears off fast for you though.” Riptide says and Azazel grunts.

“Leaves me with a headache.” He says, then his eyes flick up to Kurt’s, “That’s the worst of the side effects, black coffee usually handles it.” 

“Well I don’t think any of us were planning on an all-nighter anyway.” Todd hears Kitty mutter from behind the two men.

“You have our number if anything happens.” Riptide says, and Todd startles when the broad man’s eyes fall on his. The expression there is warm, like the words are a reminder of permission rather than a threat of consequences and Todd doesn’t know what to do with the hunger that opens up in his chest at that idea. 

Azazel holds out the bottle to Kurt and he takes it with a sigh, turning it over in his hands and watching the pills tumble around inside the orange plastic. He’d relaxed over the exchange but stiffens again, shoulder’s squaring under Todd’s hand.

“Heavy activity under limited sleep is a funny way to describe ‘was forced to pilot a jet for over twelve hours in the span of two days.” Kurt says, and there’s a bitter hardness in his words that Todd’s only heard a handful of times, when their skirmishes strayed so far from the battle they both stutter out, caught up suddenly in ‘What are we even doing this for?’ as they rolled to a stop.

McCoy’s brow furrows, his eyes going distant like he’s adding things up and the math has bad news. “Logan and Ororo were given the impression you asked to be the primary pilot on this mission. That you wanted to show you were a responsible member of the team.”

Between Amara and Freddy, Tabby goes so still Todd can practically hear her muscles locking up. His own stomach twists, remembering the way Kurt had gone wire tight in the kitchen, taking a phone call directly to the brain that he couldn't hang up on. 

Kurt nearly falls out of his lap the way he jerks up to match McCoy’s eye level, and Todd steadies him with a hand on his hip, ducking to avoid getting slapped in the face by a lashing blue tail.

“Are you kidding, how would that be responsible of me?” Kurt says, and Scott and McCoy both jerk back to avoid Kurt’s flailing hands, “Mein Gott, why would anyone let me pilot for six hours straight on the way there when we had no idea who’d be fit to pilot coming back? Even banged all up to fuck I was the only one fit to fly us most of the way home!”

“Yo, why didn’t knife hands fly on the way back if you’d been banged up and big red was out of commission?” Todd asks, reaching up to rub Kurt’s side gently through his shirt.

Scott winces, ruffling a hand through his hair, “Logan definitely had a major concussion when we got on the plane, was way out of it for like an hour."

“Und I don’t think his arm fully reattached until about three hours into that flight.” Kurt says, and Todd’s stomach flips, he catches Freddy’s eye and the big mutant looks faint, Pietro and Tabby’s hands darting out to squeeze his arms until he breathes again. Kurt winces, ears flicking down, “Sorry, I forget how freaky that is for people.” 

“I think I’m more freaked that you don’t find it freaky.” Lance says, voice wobbly like right before he puked after riding the cyclone five times in a row at the carnival.

Kitty shrugs, “You know, after you accidentally stowaway to Canada and your teacher survives an explosion fighting his creepy biker ex, freaky becomes relative.”

“We still haven’t confirmed that, you know.” Scott says and the other X-Geeks snort.

“It’s Mister Logan, nothing is ever confirmed.” Amara says, rolling her eyes as she slumps against Tabby. 

McCoy clears his throat like he’d rather be anywhere than listening to his students discuss his coworker’s love life. 

“What the fuck?” Pietro says, “You’re supposed to be the fucking elbowpads and helmets kids.” 

“Wait--Baby, you think the Wolverine and fucking Sabretooth banged?” Lance says, voice ticking up the way it did that time Todd and Freddy used dish soap in the washateria and flooded the place with foam.

“What other conclusion should I draw from the ways they scream each other’s names and go for the throat every time they meet?” Kitty says, rolling her eyes.

Todd notices several gazes in the room flick either to him and Kurt, or Pietro, and chooses to ignore the weighted pause there. He notices Pietro very deliberately staring Kurt down despite the way Tabby’s wiggling her eyebrows at him and Amara makes a quiet little “p’chu, p’chu” noise, miming shooting spikes from her arms.

Kurt answers Pietro without acknowledging any of the other exchange, “Ja, well, elbow pads and helmets only do so much when your drills involve razor blades flying at your face.”

“Now now, Blue, those razorblades are unsharpened, so they’ll only cut you by sheer velocity, not sharpness.” Tabby says, giving up on getting Pietro to look at her to waggle her finger at Kurt who snorts.

“I can’t tell if y’all’re joking or not and that feels worse.” Freddy says, looking back and forth between the X-Geeks and McCoy, who Todd’s pretty sure isn’t even in his fifties yet, but suddenly the worn look around his eyes makes him look like he saw the dawn of frigging time.

“Spitting in the face of the Convention on the Rights of The Child and setting fire to OSHA standards all at once.” The broad blue man mutters, running a hand over his face, “Creating a better future for all mutantkind indeed.”

“Doctor McCoy....” Scott says quietly, and McCoy turns and squeezes his shoulder, smiling in a way that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Actually, the US never signed the Convention, us and one other country that’s, like, super new are the only ones that haven’t.” Lance says and everyone turns to him, except Scott who looks knowing, “It was a social studies project, alright?” 

McCoy shoots Lance a proud smile and the tall teen flicks his eyes away, rubbing his nose how he always does when one of them compliments his plans or the older Morlocks use one of his suggestions and ask him for more. The fond expression slides off their former teacher's face and he blows out a raspberry.

“Well, given the course of the evening, do any of you have an audio recording device we might make use of?” He asks, and Pietro shoots Lance a look before zipping away when the mulleted mutant gives a slight nod, returning with a tape recorder Todd fixed up just to see if he could. 

McCoy takes the recorder with a quiet thanks before turning to Kurt and holding it out, pressing the record button, reciting the date and time, “I, Dr. Henry Phillip McCoy, record the testimony of Kurt Wagner regarding the Nubian Desert Mission, Mr. Wagner, do you consent to have your account recorded?”

Pietro leans over to whisper to Freddy, “This is what happens in those detective movies right before the witness gets axed.” 

Wanda tosses the crumpled up ice cream lid at his head and he hisses, sneering. Scott and Lance both shush them at the same time and grimace when they catch each other’s eye. 

Kurt bites his lip like he’s trying not to laugh, “I do.” 

McCoy winks at him, leaning an elbow on the couch as he continues to hold out the recorder. “Would you please describe the conditions you piloted under, as well as the number of hours you anticipated piloting consecutively versus the number of hours you did?” 

Kurt does, essentially repeating what he’d said before, adding in details about expected flight protocol, which is a bunch of shit Todd didn’t know existed, as well as bits about how other team members have not been flight certified despite a shortage of pilots being a problem on previous missions. When he finishes, McCoy takes over, adding his own testimony about Storm and Wolverine receiving orders to have Kurt fly the majority of the trip as well as some shit the three of teachers were told about prioritizing Kurt’s flight training since he was the main pilot that took the blackbird for a joyride last year and the Professor informed them that his team members believed he needed to develop a deeper sense of responsibility. 

By the time McCoy ends the recording Kurt’s slid back down in Todd’s lap, sitting still enough Todd wouldn’t believe he was breathing if not for his heart beating under his palm. Scott’s lips are pressed in a thin line, face pale. Tabby and Amara’s knuckles are nearly white where they’re holding hands and across the room Todd can hear short angry whispers and hums between Wanda and Rogue. 

“No one ever said anything like that!” Kitty cries, sitting up from Lance’s lap, the braid he’d woven in her hair slipping loose.

“Dr. McCoy, who told you we said those things?” Scott asks, voice quiet as if they can’t all guess exactly who said it. “It is us you were told said something, isn’t it? Jean and I.”

“It wasn’t Kurt’s idea to take the plane. He lied so the other kids wouldn’t get punished.” Tabby says, hard and sharp and Kurt hisses her name.

“No.” Tabby says, leaning across Amara to get in Kurt’s face, “Every time someone pulls shit, somehow you get heat for it and you may have decided you’re not gonna argue about it but that doesn’t mean the rest of us have to.” 

Azazel huffs a laugh, running a hand over Kurt’s knee. He looks at he and Kurt’s tails weaving through the air, one in long slow loops, the other stiff and fast flicks.

Riptide’s lips twist into a bitter smirk as he runs a hand over the red mutant’s shoulders, sitting heavily on the coffee table behind him, “Blame the devil…”

“Indeed.” McCoy says, stroking his face as he looks down at Kurt, frown twisting his lips, “Confirmation bias, you find the mischief maker once, and then for every future mischief presume it must be them. But why?” 

Kurt runs a hand through his hair, “They were going to take the plane whether I flew it or not. Better someone who knew what they were doing.” He drops his hands to his lap studying them a moment before looking McCoy in the eye, “Being the devil is not easy, but my family have always known me this way. Some of theirs decided they were strangers once their powers manifested. To be expelled from school would be like falling from heaven all over again for them. For me, it would mean losing time with everyone here, but I have a home that knows me.”

McCoy reaches over Todd’s shoulder to squeeze Kurt’s arm, “Mr. Wagner, it is not you who needs the lesson in responsibility. It looks like I will be having an off campus meeting with Logan and Ororo soon.”

He pops the tape from the recorder and holds it out to Azazel, “You’re both here and none of the youth present are scrabbling for the nearest weapon. I am trusting you with that recommendation.” He looks down at Kurt, “If I have forgotten this conversation, and you can still recall it, please ask this gentleman whose relation to you I will not presume for this tape back.” 

He straightens up, then pauses, pointing a finger at Azazel, “Also, try not to come by the mansion anytime soon. Mr. Wagner and I have a running game regarding rumors of our supposed family ties. I would like to see how long they run.”

Kurt laughs, “We still have all the secret uncle, half brothers, und second cousins rumors, if I’m no longer your illegitimate son from a wild night at Brazilian Carnival.” 

McCoy snorts and rolls his eyes, “Talk about studying abroad once to encourage global travel and end up the butt of the most tawdry rumors.”

“I still like the one where y’all’re part of a secret royal mutant dynasty.” Rogue says, smirking. 

“Only because that makes you a missing duchess.” Kurt says, sticking out his tongue at his sister. 

“You don’t know, maybe my title’s sitting in the bottom of a trunk somewhere.” Rogue says, crossing her arms and sticking her nose in the air. 

McCoy sighs with a laugh, shaking his head, “On that note, I will be returning to my post. I have rounds to make for the rest of my patients.” He looks down at Amara, wagging his finger, “You got lucky, but keep those scrapes covered until at least tomorrow evening.” He leans over the sofa to look at Rogue, “Likewise, avoid any heavy lifting with that shoulder.” He turns to point at Kitty, “Keep pressure off that ankle, Ms. Pryde, no running around either.” Then he turns finally, not to Kurt but to Todd, “If he doesn’t take his medication, it’s two pills every six hours and I will look the other way if you shove them in a peanut butter cup.” 

Kurt makes a strangled little squawk at that, “I’m not a dog you have to sneak meds to!” 

McCoy looks down his nose at Kurt with one eyebrow raised, “Then prove it Mr. Wagner.” 

Kurt grumbles, but wrenches open the bottle. He tosses two pills in his mouth and takes the half drunk Fanta Tabby offers him to swallow them down. The doctor snorts, but the corners of his mouth twitch.

“I’d recommend water for your next dose, but the demonstration is appreciated.” He says. He turns to the room, “I won’t remind you to avoid strenuous activities any farther, but I presume whatever you youngsters get up to unsupervised you will employ adequate protections.” 

Tabby and Kurt both bust out laughing, and Todd cracks up along with them. The others look varying degrees of scandalized or baffled at McCoy’s words. 

“Dawg, how many times is someone gonna tell us to use fuckin’ rubbers?” Todd says at the same time that Kitty goes, “Oh my God, Mr. McCoy, you can’t just say stuff like that.” 

McCoy laughs, “Forgive me, Ms. Pryde, I have been charged as your primary care physician. It’s only natural to offer a reminder of best practices for health.” He shoots a look at Azazel and Riptide, who’ve stood up from crouching in front of the sofa, “Of course, if anyone asks, I’ll mention there was certainly adult supervision in the house.” 

Riptide and Azazel share a look before turning to McCoy and nodding seriously.

 “Of course, certainly.” Riptide says, sliding an arm around Azazel’s waist.

“Definitely planning to babysit all evening.” Azazel adds, tucking the tape in his pocket and resting his hand over Riptide’s.

McCoy doesn’t fight the smile on his face this time, instead turning and making his way back towards the front door, “Then I shall bid you all an uneventful night. Come along Mr. Summers, I presume I’ll be pretending not to notice you absconding to Ms. Grey’s room this evening.” 

Scott flushes bright red, tripping over his feet as he makes his way out “Doc, I--!” 

“Seem to think you are invisible when you shuffle your way down the hallway to Ms. Grey’s room at half past eleven? Or believe none of us know about the, what was it, ‘Nookie Express Bus’? Yes, I am aware.” McCoy says, voice carrying into the living room. Scott makes a strangled noise, but scampers after McCoy, calling out a goodnight to the room that the others return in various levels of sincere to ‘have fun getting laid golden boy.’

“Nookie Express Bus?” Freddy asks, as the front door shuts behind the pair and the X-Geeks all break into laughter.

Kurt raises his hand, “Don’t want to get caught sneaking into someone’s room? Slip me a note with time, pick up and drop off location and I got you. All for the low fee of either help with chores or money for my gut bombs fund.” 

Todd raises an eyebrow glancing over at Lance, “Wait, how come you’ve never used the Nookie Express Bus to slip in for love behind enemy lines, Lancelot?” 

Lance flushes red, avoiding everyone’s eyes, while Kitty studiously picks at her nail polish. Pietro tosses a packet of ding dongs at them that Lance catches, “Oh my God you totally have.” He wheels on Kurt and Todd automatically puts his arm up, ignoring the way his face flushes at moving to protect the blue mutant, “They have, haven’t they?” 

“Sorry, service is confidential.” Kurt sing songs, glancing at Todd with a wink. 

“Look, between this and back home he’s practically a little crime lord without us.” Riptide says and Azazel puts a hand over his heart, “They grow up so fast.” 

“I’m not a crime lord!” Kurt says, tail slapping the side of the couch. 

“If you’re coordinating a bunch of activities that take place outside of the law, little miracle, I promise you the government is not particular about whether those activities feed children or get stoners their shit.” Azazel says, waving his hand. 

Freddy scrunches his eyebrows together, “I’m pretty sure drug kingpin and underground food pantry are not the same level of criminal offense.” 

Riptide waves a finger at the tall blond, “Depends on who you’re feeding and how my friend. But, that is a lesson for another day. Tonight we leave you to rest.”

“We’ll be back later this week with some of the stuff for repairs, we’ll want to get those done before winter really sets in here.” Azazel says, and the Brotherhood all share a look before Lance nods. 

The two men had come through the Brotherhood home, noticing all the ways they’d worked to repair shit where they could and picking out places that could be fixed without having to gut everything. Lance had put up a fuss for them at first, when they’d all shared quiet hunted looks, each of them trying to find the catch in this generosity, but Riptide had put his hand on the mulleted mutant’s shoulder with a smile and said, “You already are in relation with the Morlocks, they do not give you things out of pity, but appreciation, because you in turn appreciate them through your work. Now, little trouble is helping you make more relationships like that. This is part of it.” Then both men had played the godfather card and the Brotherhood allowed themselves to be swept along for the ride. 

Riptide threads his arm through Azazel’s turning and giving Kitty and Rogue a wave, “Ladies, it was a pleasure seeing you again, though I hope next we meet you’re in better health.” He nods to Amara, “It was a pleasure meeting you, it’s comforting to know Kurt keeps strong company.” 

Amara bites her lip like she’s covering a smile, “Likewise.” 

“Little trouble, we don’t know how many lives you have, but maybe not spend anymore for a little bit?” Riptide asks, and Kurt snorts but nods the movement slow. 

“On that note, goodnight, young friends, should anything come up, you know how to reach us.” Azazel says, then ports away with Riptide, leaving Kitty and Lance coughing and waving their smoke away. 

“Dramatic bastard.” Lance says. 

“He did always have flair.” Pietro mutters quietly. 

“You’re starting to remember more?” Todd asks, glancing up at the speedster, who shrugs, hopping off the couch to settle on the floor by Freddy’s legs. 

“Sorta,” He says and Wanda picks up where he fades off, “We keep comparing notes. It’s little things. I remember they bought Pietro a teal bike for our birthday one year. It had silver streamers.” 

“And I remember they took me and Wanda to some kinda festival with Mom, and we rode on their shoulders.” Pietro says, peeling open the empty chip bag in his hands. “Little stuff, from before dad took us.” 

The room falls quiet and after a few minutes, Wanda untangles her legs from Rogue’s on the chair and heads for the movie closet, Freddy following her. Todd realizes Kurt’s gone quiet, leaning heavy against him. He glances down at the blue mutant. Kurt’s eyes are shut, one hand loose against Todd’s chest, the other curled in his lap. 

“Day catch up to you?” Todd whispers, tucking Kurt’s hair behind his ear, not really expecting him to answer at this point.

Kurt snuffles, turning his head to rub his cheek against Todd’s shirt, he cracks open one gold eye to peek up at Todd, “Ja, a bit, sorry.” 

Todd squashes the burst of butterflies that scatter in his chest at the press of that fuzzy cheek to his faded sleep shirt, running his hand over Kurt’s back softly. “Nah, you’re good. Just happy you’re in one piece fuzz.” 

Kurt snorts, opening both eyes to smirk at Todd, “Didn’t think I’d keep you up all night, kaulquappe.” 

Todd sticks out his tongue at the echo of his own words back to him, resisting the urge to jostle Kurt. The blue mutant laughs and sways forward, shifting to plant a kiss on Todd’s cheek. His aim is off and his lips land warm and soft on the corner of Todd’s mouth. They’ve kissed enough times it shouldn’t make him light up inside like this, shouldn’t make him shiver, but it does. He turns his head without thinking, catching the blue mutant’s mouth with his own. It’s nothing deep or hard, a gentle, close mouthed kiss, plausible enough as performance, but Kurt gasps when they part, and Todd feels the little shudder that echoes his own. Then darkness crashes down over them. Todd swats away the faded green and blue quilt from his bed, to see Pietro whirling around the room dumping everyone’s bedding over them in a similar fashion. 

“I take it we’re staying down here tonight?” Todd drawls, watching as Rogue decushions the chair, dragging over Wanda’s bedding to the floor pile. Her eyes catch the other girls’ before landing on her brother’s and something passes between them. 

“They don’t let us have sleepovers. In the common areas.” Kurt says quietly, his fingers scrunching and smoothing Todd’s shirt. 

“Too high a risk.” Kitty says, and the bitterness from the other night is back in her voice as Lance runs a hand over her shoulders. 

Wanda returns with Freddy, carrying an armful of movies as Freddy drags in the old mattress they keep for nights like this. He shoves aside the coffee table, dropping the mattress to the floor and in a blur it’s covered in a mish mash of pillows and blankets, Pietro sprawled on top in the footy pajamas Todd had bought him as a joke because they matched his uniform. Wanda settles in next to Rogue, Freddy drops down next to Pietro on the mattress as Tabby and Amara scoot to take the other end of the couch. Todd only half listens to Freddy’s reciting of the evening’s options, trying to sort out how to lie down without jostling the blue mutant. 

Kurt snorts, nudging Todd’s legs with his knees, urging him to lie down. “It’s too late for you to be thinking this loud.” 

“Fuzz, it’s like 10 o’clock on a Saturday night, what are you ninety.” Todd grumbles, but lets himself be prodded into a big spoon position, biting back a sigh as Kurt slides down into his arms, back pressing warm and reassuring to Todd’s belly. 

“Ja, you caught me, it’s not that I’m too tired to wait for you to finish futzing with the blanket like a bird of paradise making a nest. I’m actually a vampire. Reliving high school over and over for the kicks.” Kurt mutters with a yawn, lacing his fingers through Todd’s against his chest.

“You--I wasn’t futzing,” Todd mumbles into indigo waves and Kurt snorts. 

“Congrats then Dracula, you’ll like our pick for the evening then.” Rogue says with a wink. 

“I still don’t believe you that this is a horror movie, the guys on the cover are making cow eyes at each other.” Lance says as Freddy pops in the DVD. 

“What do you mean, Lance? It’s a vampire movie, of course it’s a horror flick,” Freddy says, with the same voice he uses when swearing that no, he definitely didn’t put any vegetables in this, why are they asking? 

Todd tunes out the others as everyone settles in and gritty footage of people running around New Orleans in frilly shirts plays on screen. He and Kurt’s feet tangle up with Tabby and Amara’s, and the four of them giggle and nudge each other back and forth for a bit before finding a comfortable position. Kurt’s tail runs back and forth over their legs in slow syrupy loops before winding to a stop completely, draping heavy and warm across Todd’s thigh. A tightness Todd didn’t notice clenching in his chest unravels as Kurt’s breathing deepens, belly rising and falling under their joined hands. 

By halfway through the movie, all the X-Geeks are down for the count along with the twins, everyone curled up in the fortress of blankets and pillows. Todd’s eyes drift shut sometime after that and stay that way, sounds of the television fuzzing together with everyone’s shared breath, with the soft sound and feeling of Kurt’s heartbeat against his own.

Chapter Text

"If y'all don't get your behinds in a car pronto you can sit your asses home." Rogue calls, laying on the horn of the gigantic fucking humvee Mommy and Daddy X-Geek pulled up to the Brotherhood house in with Forge and the porcupine in tow late Sunday morning. Lance echoes her, pumping the Jeep's horn the way he does when the others take too long to get out of the house for his liking. This breaks up the strategic planning session for who should ride in which car as everyone scrambles. The X-Geeks move as fast as the Brotherhood, so Rogue must mean her threat.

Kitty's already riding shotgun with Lance, and Tabby and Amara clamber in the back, but surprisingly so do Evan and Pietro. As he and Kurt climb into the Men in Black Mobile with the others, Todd shoots Freddy a look, wiggling his eyebrows. The big mutant shrugs, eyes wide as he settles into the seat behind the driver, Forge taking the passenger side seat across from him. 

Todd catches Kurt in a similar exchange with his sister as they shuffle their way into the van's dark interior and he tips his head close to whisper "any idea what's going on there?" 

Kurt snorts, "Never, but I don't envy the others if they do their 'fight after two sentences' dance."

It's an hour and half drive to the beach from here and Todd sucks his teeth at the thought. "Is that better or worse than when they do the 'suck face after two sentences' thing?" 

"You two talking about yourselves back there?" Wanda calls from where she's riding shotgun and Todd's face heats as he catches Kurt fluffing up beside him. Her green eyes spark at them from the rearview mirror and Todd feels the smirk he can’t see.

"You sleep good last night, Summers?" Todd asks, shifting to leer at Scott and Jean as they settle into the aisle across from them.

"I dunno, Tolansky, did you?" Scott asks, smirking even as his cheeks flush.

"You two did disappear at one point when I'd gotten up to pee." Freddy says, looking back at them with an expression like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, the little shit. 

Todd had woken up at the ass hour of the night to empty arms. When the blue mutant hadn't turned up after several long minutes of listening to the other's snoring he'd gone searching, finding Kurt hunched on the roof, like someone crossed a gargoyle with a fashion model, glowing eyes staring out into the woods behind the Brotherhood house, hands tight on his elbows. 

"We were stretching our legs." Kurt says, sliding his arm over Todd's shoulders, thumb rubbing warm circles through the sleeve of Todd's hoodie. Fall hasn't fully hit yet, but the wind's cool enough Todd already needs a jacket on a cloudy day. He hopes the water won’t be cold enough that Lance henpecks him after thirty minutes of swimming, even though the ocean salt usually spells a headache for him.

Kurt's got a hoodie on too, which is more out of the ordinary, even if it is cropped high enough half his shirt hangs out underneath. The blue mutant hasn't pulled up his sleeves in front of anyone since he got in last night. Todd tries not to think too hard about it. 

"Bet you were stretching something." Forge says waggling his eyebrows. He hasn't brought up their charade again since that day in the lab, but he still shoots the pair pointed looks every so often. Todd shoots his tongue out at the mechanic, pulling up short of his face and Forge squeaks and reels back.

"Get your damn seatbelts on and quit horsing around so we can get going." Rogue calls, glaring at them all from the rearview mirror and everyone obliges.

Todd’s scarcely clicked his in place before Rogue’s pulling away from the curb following Lance, murmuring with Wanda in low voices as the witch flips through a binder full of CDs. He leans forward a bit, trying to catch the sharpied labels on the burned mixes, but Kurt squeezes his shoulder. 

“Don’t bother, mein herr, if you’re not riding shotgun, you don’t get a vote on the music.” Kurt says and Todd shivers as the taller mutant’s breath ghosts over his ear. His voice has that blurred, sleepy quality to the edges again.

“Oh c’mon, no democracy here?” Todd whines, more to gripe about something than because he actually cares.

“Dunno man, driver and navigator do the work while we’re just along for the ride, sounds fair they get to pick the jams, you dig?” Forge stops swiveling his seat back and forth to look at Todd, and the amphibious mutant wonders how much extra it cost to make that first row of seats mobile like that. Jean had said something Todd didn’t catch to Freddy when they’d first started moving and the big mutant had spun to face her and Scott. He and the psychic hadn’t shut up since, Major Lazer periodically interjecting but seeming mostly content to watch them go back and forth like a tennis match. 

A couple weeks ago, Summers had turned to Freddy in that stiff junior businessman way he had and asked to talk with him privately and Todd felt his bones turn to lead as he watched the rest of the Brotherhood go stiff and silent around them. But Freddy had waved them all off as he stood, offering a hand up to Cyclops. Kurt’s hand had been a warm presence on his back the entire time the pair were gone. The blue mutant hadn’t seemed surprised when Freddy and Summers had rolled back up ten minutes later laughing and jostling each other. 

The big mutant shot Todd a grin as the pair sat back in their spots and Todd’s chest unclenched. Since then, Cyclop’s contributions to Freddy and Jean’s conversations had lost their stilted edge and Freddy’s shoulders had lost their “yes ma’am” formal straightness when the X-Geeks were around. 

Forge makes that little noise in his throat he does when Todd’s gotten lost in a design and the mechanic wants an answer from him, and he flicks his eyes away from the trio next to them back to the other mutant.

“Will of the people, Doc.” Todd drawls, “There should be some measure of collective choice, right fuzz?” 

Kurt doesn’t answer, and Todd notices how the blue mutant’s arm drapes heavy and warm across his shoulders, his breathing that deep almost rasp. He glances up and bites his lip, ignoring the knowing look Forge gives him as his brain melts a bit at the soft, open look on Kurt’s sleeping face, heat tipped back against the seat. 

The mechanic mutters something, but before Todd can snap out a reply, he’s spun back around and planted his elbows on the center console to chatter with Wanda and Rogue, leaning over Wanda’s shoulder to ask questions about current music. Todd shoots the back of the hippie’s head a suspicious look, certain he’s trying to influence the selection, sneaky bastard. Kurt wobbles next to him, snorting awake as his head rolls on his shoulders and the shorter mutant shifts his attention.

"Naptime again?” 

Kurt blinks open his eyes with a hum, looking down at Todd. The shorter mutant watches him with an expression that turns Kurt's chest liquid and golden and has him absently tipping forward to nuzzle his forehead to Todd's. 

Todd had pointedly slapped down two pills and a peanut butter cup next to Kurt's orange juice this morning as they crowded into the kitchen for breakfast. The amphibious mutant hadn't said anything, so Kurt didn't either, just tossed them back with a glare. The excitement of Scott pulling into the Brotherhood driveway, Jean in the front seat, Evan and Forge hanging out of the sun roof waving at them, had chased away the aching fatigue in his bones. But after everyone started drifting into their own conversations in the car, murmuring voices blending with the rumble of the road and the steady rise and fall of Todd's chest against his side, his thoughts had started to fuzz around the edges, head nodding.

"In a travelling show, training yourself to sleep on long rides helps." He says, running a hand through his hair.

Todd huffs a laugh that turns into a yawn halfway through and Kurt kisses his nose as it scrunches up, "Looks like you're not much better than me." 

“You kept me up late.” Todd shrugs, his face flushing and some part of Kurt considers maybe he should touch the shorter mutant a little less, that them sitting up against each other is enough pretense for the others. Then Todd shifts against his side and Kurt can't cover his wince as his bruised shoulder throbs. Todd freezes, then sighs, sitting up and tugging Kurt to slump against him. Kurt holds back, a soft confused noise slipping from his throat and Todd rolls his eyes. 

"Yeah I know, you're the ultimate big spoon, but you're banged up all to fuck, the universe won't implode if you let yourself be held for once." Todd says, and Kurt hisses as he tries to hunch his shoulders and gets a twinge. Todd’s hand finds the back of his neck, pulling gently and Kurt goes.

"You just want a teddy bear." He says, wriggling gingerly to find a position that works. His feet are kind of in the aisle, his tail draping over the arm of the chair, but hopefully he’s not too much of a tripping hazard.

Todd snorts, "You caught me, definitely dating you for the heated blanket teddy bear combo experience."

Kurt nuzzles his face into Todd's shoulder, sighing as a webbed hand finds its way into his hair, stroking along the shell of one ear. The touch sends a pleasant shiver through him, good enough after a long painful week to smother the guilt that's been circling the edges of his mind at exactly how comforting Todd's touch has been since getting back from the desert. 

"An acceptable trade since I get a cuddleable cool pack out of it." Kurt mumbles, letting his eyes slip shut as those fingers run soft lines along his scalp, dipping down to brush his neck. "Mm'gonna sleep now." 

He catches Todd's laugh, but not his reply as he lets his thoughts slip away with the road beneath them.

Todd wakes up to someone dropping a french fry in his mouth and gags, sputtering as he jerks upright. He blinks accusingly up at Freddy, who's watching him, another fry in hand as he leans back over his seat to loom over Todd. He dislodges Kurt in the process, who makes a groggy, cranky sound in the back of his throat, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. 

"Burger break." Freddy says, grinning down at Todd and shaking a white paper bag at the shorter mutant. "We got y'all's orders since you were both on another planet."

“Halfway there already?” Kurt asks question ending on a happy little hum as he accepts the bag and shake Forge passes to him, ducking under Todd’s reaching arms as the amphibious mutant snatches up the bag Freddy keeps dangling just out of reach. He’d grab it with his tongue, but the sudden spike in hot restaurant food that’s come from spending more time with Kurt feels too temporary to waste a fresh burger tasting the paper bag it came in.

Rogue’s still driving, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding a hotdog as Wanda periodically feeds her french fries. The others are all digging into their food and Todd groans as he catches the smell of more grilled onions than any one person should have as soon as he rips open his bag. 

“Oh you’re gonna hate kissing me the rest of the day.” He says absently, ripping back the wrapper and taking a massive bite of the juicy Lucy. He chokes as his words catch up to him and Forge shoots him a knowing look. Todd gives him the finger as he gulps down his coke to try and clear his throat.

Kurt snorts, wiggling an onion ring at Todd, cheeks bulging with what looks like a double cheeseburger, “If we both have onion breath, neither of us has onion breath.” 

Todd snaps the onion ring out of Kurt’s fingers with his tongue and the blue mutant hisses at him, ears flicking back and pouting. He grabs his packet of fries from his bag and shakes them as a peace offering. Kurt glares but rifles through Todd’s fries, plucking out a few long, wobbly ones that meet his standards. A straw pokes Todd in the cheek and he glances down to Kurt wiggling his milkshake at Todd with his tail. 

“Cookies and cream.” he says, which is not really Todd’s favorite, but a milkshake is still a milkshake and he takes a gulp from the offered straw, humming at the flood of sugary goodness.

A song drifts through the speakers, one of the ones that the old guy who runs the junk shop plays all the time on that country station of his. Some woman crying to some other woman, supposedly about a guy, but really, Todd thinks she sounds way gayer for this Jolene chick than her man. Todd’s surprised when Red of all people groans. He fully figured she’d be down for what he considers “mom driving to soccer practice” music, but the psychic has her head in her hands as the guitar strums. The X-Geeks all erupt into song with the singer, save Jean, and Todd shoots Freddy a bewildered look, but the blond only gives him that little grin he does when he knows the answer but thinks it’s funnier to watch Todd lose his shit trying to figure it out. 

Todd has to pluck the milkshake from Kurt’s grip to avoid taking a straw to the eye as the blue mutant sways with the song, belting out the lyrics with the others. It takes til the third repetition of the woman’s name to realize they’re all singing “Oh Jean” instead of “Jolene.” 

The mutant in question has her face hidden in her hands, head bowed and tucked into Scott’s shoulder, though he’s happily singing along even with his arm around her. Wanda shrugs when Todd shoots her a questioning look, her feet still propped on the dash as she eats like they’re not sitting in the middle of some weird X-Geek hazing ritual. The X-Geeks don’t fumble a single word and by the final verse Jean has gone from red with embarrassment to red with laughter as Freddy, Forge and Todd join in on the chorus and Kurt leans over the arm of his seat to throw an imploring arm into her lap. 

The musical interlude ends without fanfare, everyone drifting back to their conversations after the final warbling cry of “oh Jean.” Todd waits a beat for an explanation but none comes.

“Uh, nobody gonna explain that little moment there?” Todd asks, licking his fingers as he finishes off his fries.

“Nope.” Rogue says, popping her lips on the word as her eyes laugh at Todd from the rearview mirror. 

“Don’t feel bad, Tolansky, they won’t even tell me why they started doing that.” Scott says around a mouthful of burger.

Kurt snorts, “Scott, please never become a detective, mein freund.” 

Another oldass song comes on a low, smooth voice narrating over a ticking drum line before a chorus of voices explodes outward. Todd recognizes it from the old vinyls that Forge plays in the lab when it’s his turn to pick the music, and takes his usual lines in the song, riffing back and forth with the mechanic as the others watch with a mix of amusement and mystification.

The rest of the ride passes that way, songs shifting back and forth in a mix that spans more decades than any of them have been alive, Todd and Forge teaching the others the older songs, except some of the country bits that Rogue and Freddy take up the lesson on, Forge learning the modern stuff from the rest of them. By the time they pull up to the beach parking lot, they’re all dancing in their seats, windows down and the stereo cranked. The X-tank’s sound system is fucking choice and Todd can feel the bass in his whole body. 

They’ve picked the farther out beach, the one most people don’t bother driving out to, and it’s paid off. There’s only a beat up old sedan parked in the far corner of the lot and a faded SUV that looks to be occupied with at least two people way more interested in each other than anything happening outside. Freddy practically jumps out of the car as soon as Rogue throws it in park, making a beeline for the bathrooms next to the changing area and outdoor shower. 

“Told you not to get the large drink.” Wanda calls after him as they all pour out of the car, the rest of them all hopping out of the Jeep where Lance has parked beside Rogue. Kitty and Amara leap out of the Jeep and run for the bathroom with the same urgency that speaks of a full bladder, not bothering to retort when Tabby and Pietro heckle them.

“They had Dr. Pepper! Nobody up here has Dr. Pepper!” Freddy calls as the restroom door slams behind him. 

They all start pulling snacks and beach blankets and umbrellas out of the cars and making their way down to the beach in an ambling parade. They find a spot near a rocky outcrop that gives them a break from the wind and start laying out blankets. Lance shoves the umbrellas in the sand while Scott and Evan spread out the blankets and Todd catches the subtle tremor as Lance anchors the umbrellas deeper. Freddy, Amara, and Kitty join them when they’re about halfway finished setting up, Freddy hauling the big cooler Todd caught sight of in the back of the X-Geek car, Kitty carrying a massive bright pink bucket shaped like a castle tower filled with shovels and smaller buckets. Amara has a beach ball under one arm and a bag full of super soakers slung over her shoulder.

“Oh, we get to play with your toys today.” Pietro says, trying to come off as snide but Todd can hear the trickle of excitement in the words.

Freddy plops down the cooler and Lance sinks it halfway into the sand as Kitty and Amara plunk the toys down next to one of the sprawling beach blankets.

“Only if you share, Zippy.” Amara says, tossing the ball at Pietro’s head. He dodges and it bounces against Scott’s shoulder and he shoots the pair the most unamused dad look possible. It’s not quite on the level of Lance’s though and bounces off Pietro like a wadded-up Kleenex, while Amara holds up her hands in a protest of innocence. 

They get everything set up and everyone starts stripping down to swimsuits. Except for Kurt, who drops down onto one of the beach blankets with the smooth nonchalance of someone feigning being chill. Spyke shoots him a confused look as he pulls off his own shirt, tossing it in one of the empty beach bags.

“Hey dude, you’re gonna get heatstroke in all those layers,” Evan says, and everyone except Forge freezes. The armored mutant glances around, raising an eyebrow, “What? I’ve gone to beaches with him in Greece, fuzzy man literally runs around buck naked.” 

Kurt shoots Spyke a flat look, tail stirring the sand at his feet, “Und, so did you, after a little encouragement.” 

Spyke points at him, “You had a point about the wet spandex thing.” 

“I know.” Kurt says, discomfort melting momentarily into smugness as he tips his chin up.

“You can’t be any more of a horror show than the rest of us under there, blue boy.” Amara says, and Todd catches the massive bruise blooming across her shoulder that Tabby’s eyes have been stuck on since the other girl pulled off her shirt. There’s a broad bandage across her hip and he guesses that’s the scrape the doc was talking about.

The side chatter all tapers down, everyone listening to the conversation while acting like they’re not listening. 

The blue mutant blows out a breath, “Fine, only because I want to go swimming. Nobody scream.”

“Already did that the first time we met.” Kitty says and Rogue swats her with her shirt. She’s swapped out her sweats for a long sheer top and pants over her swimsuit.

Kurt tugs off his hoodie and shirt and Todd’s eyes rake over the swollen deep blue-black blotches across his shoulder and around his ribs, catch on the gauze wrapped around the blue mutant’s forearm and held with a metal clip. Then Kurt’s dropping his baggy knee-length shorts to reveal a second, significantly smaller pair of bright floral shorts and Todd’s brain short circuits, stuck between the chill from deep bruises and imagining what might hide under that bandage and the way lean muscle rolls under blue fur. Freddy elbows him in the side with a snicker and Todd shuts his mouth. 

Forge gives a low whistle, “Shit man, Cyc wasn’t kidding when he said your mission went sideways.” 

“Oh you know, it went sideways, upside down, right side up, the other way sideways, a lot of directions really.” Kurt says, shrugging his shoulders and wincing at the pain.

“And you didn’t want to take painkillers?” Lance asks, voice kicking up an octave. 

Kurt’s shoulders creep back up to his ears and Todd’s stomach twists as he watches the blue mutant fold in on himself. 

“It’s the Catholicism. Gotta suffer, y’know.” Todd drawls as he pulls off his hoodie, trying not to feel self-conscious about his own sleeveless wetsuit situation. It helps keep out the salt and cold, even if it stops at his knees. Whatever comeback Kurt had for him dies on his lips as he turns toward the shorter mutant, and Todd’s face heats at the way those pupilless eyes rake over him. He doesn’t know what response he expected, but it wasn’t that and he doesn’t know what to do with the butterflies it sets loose in his chest. 

Scott sets down his carefully folded clothes and claps his hands, somehow managing to give off lifeguard vibes even without a whistle around his neck and a massive scrape along one arm, “Alright, so we all look like we took a roll in a cement mixer full of bricks and the water’s probably gonna sting like a bitch. Everyone ready to have fun?” 

Behind Scott, Amara plucks up one of the water guns from the bag, quietly passing it to Tabby before picking up two more. Kurt shifts beside Spyke and the other X-Geeks all pointedly avoid looking at the two girls.

“I dunno Scotty, are you?” Tabby says as Amara throws Kurt the second water gun while taking aim at Scott with the first. 

Scott’s startled yelp turns indignant as Kurt dives to catch the water gun and immediately turns it on his own fearless leader. Tabby whoops as she sprays across the others in a wide arc, “C’mon wimps, are you playing or what?”

Sand sprays everywhere as the rest of them make a mad dash for the remaining water guns. Todd manages to snatch up two and leaps to perch on Freddy’s shoulder, passing the big mutant one of the guns as he fires off a shot in Jean’s direction when she gets him in the leg. He nearly slips as his feet take a minute to grip onto Freddy’s sunscreen slick skin. The blond has to use that heavy-duty zinc sunscreen or he turns into a lobster after 10 minutes.

“Thanks, T.” Freddy says, grunting as a fuzzy blue weight lands next to Todd on his other shoulder. Spyke dives beside them in a spray of sand, landing in a crouch at Freddy’s knee as he fires at Pietro.

“Mind if we join you?” Spyke asks. Todd shoots Freddy a look, raising an eyebrow in a way he hopes conveys he will tell Kurt to find a new perch if the big mutant isn’t here for it. Freddy shoots him a grin as Kurt twists on Freddy’s shoulder nabbing Wanda and Rogue as they try to come up from behind.

“Pleasure to have your company.” Freddy says and Todd snorts, turning his attention back to the fray and nailing Forge and Scott in the face in one shot. Tabby and Amara skitter up to flank Freddy’s other side and the six of them form their own little island. 

Eventually they all run out of water and call a truce, the afternoon sun blazing and the wind still enough to drive everyone into the ocean to cool off for a while. Todd hesitates next to Kurt when the blue mutant stops when the water reaches his waist. 

“Go on.” Kurt says with a grin and Todd wriggles his toes in the sand. 

“I don’t wanna leave you lonesome, bluebell.” Todd says and Kurt laughs, tugging him in close and they both sway in the surf.

“I can play with the others. The water is your place, don’t stay in the shallows because I’m a bruised blueberry today.” He says, tucking Todd’s damp hair behind his ear and squeezing his hand. Todd squeezes back. 

“Alright. Shout if you want me.” He says, darting in close to peck Kurt on the lips before he can think too much about the impulse. Todd turns to where Freddy is bouncing a beach ball around with Pietro, Wanda, Rogue and Jean. “Hey Dukes, shotput me?” 

Freddy turns with a grunt, wading over to Todd as the others all slow down to watch the pair.

“Is there another meaning for ‘shotput’ that I am not aware of?” Kurt asks dryly as Todd leaps up into Freddy’s extended palm. The big blond cranks his arm back and Todd feels Freddy’s hand flex beneath his bare toes. Freddy twists towards the horizon, and a grin splits Todd’s face as anticipation marches down his back like ants. 

“Nope.” He says, popping his lips as he scans the horizon, “All clear.” 

“Ready.” Freddy says and Lance calls out from where he’s standing hip-deep in the water next to Scott, “Fire the frog!” 

Kurt’s startled laugh is the last thing he catches as he kicks off and Freddy launches him through the air.

They’d figured out this trick years ago, during one of their early attempts at team training after Lance had come back from the X-mansion and realized they didn’t know shit in terms of formal combat. They still didn’t know anything about “the Art of War” or whatever the fuck, but they’d started sharing all the shit they’d picked up in life, little tricks about catching people’s weak spots, how to tell when someone was bluffing, how to bluff themselves, places that hurt enough to hit to give you time to get away. Freddy’d been tossing truck tires around like they were basketballs when Pietro cracked a joke about the big mutant throwing Todd to see if he’d bounce. Given that Todd had been crawling out of roller coaster seats to ride the sides of the cars since he was eight, experiencing a fastball special as the ball didn’t daunt him. Turned out it was a really handy move to get one of them behind enemy lines when Pietro didn’t have a clear running shot. But it was also just a good time, as far as Todd was concerned. 

The sun flickers on the blue waves beneath him as he sails through the air. Freddy’s arm keeps getting stronger and so do Todd’s legs, and he’s getting better and better at tucking in tight to let the air roll over him. He gets at least half a football field away before he starts to drift back down and he shifts to dive without thinking about it. The water rushes around him as he crashes under, swallowing him up. Fish the length of his forearm dart away, panicked at the sudden intrusion. He has to hand it to Bayville, the water here lacks the murky grey sludginess of New York beaches and rivers. He’s pretty sure even the others can see if they have goggles on. 

In less than a minute his skin opens up pulling in air, that crisp coldness breaking out over him as his lungs take a break. It doesn’t work as well in the wetsuit, and the saltwater will give him a headache after too long, but he still can’t stop the lightness in his limbs, the grin that splits his face as he cuts through the water. He glides around beneath the surface a bit, watching the lingering fish that have decided a weird teenager isn’t enough of a threat to expend effort over, diving down low so his belly skims over the spongy seaweed that clumps along the ocean floor. Dimly he can hear the echoing shouts and splashing of the others, distorted and muffled by the water. 

He breaks the surface to glance back towards the shore. The others are still playing in the shallows, though after a moment he realizes Scott and Jean and Tabby and Amara are conspicuously absent from the group. He catches a flicker of red hair over among the rocks that form little cubbies in the water and snorts. He can guess what Scott and Jean are up to. There’s no sign of Tabby and Amara, though he imagines they’ve found their own hiding spot. There’s a sudden, loud splash by the shore followed by Pietro’s indignant screech. A familiar laugh, that keeps sending butterflies bursting through Todd’s chest these days, rings out over the hiss of the tide and Todd’s eyes catch on the sharp curve of white teeth in a blue face. 

He dives under again before this feeling sweeps him away.

Chapter Text

Todd's hand skims along Kurt's back, fingers carding through his fur, smoothing it down before rucking it back up again in a long sweep that has Kurt pressing his toes into the sand to hold back the little whine dying to slip from his throat. A purr rumbles from his chest and his face heats as he fights the urge to roll off the blanket and burrow into the sand to join the crabs.

Todd chuckles somewhere above Kurt's head. His lean body presses cool against Kurt's side where he lounges propped up on one arm. Kurt turns his face into the crook of his elbow to avoid looking at the long line of Todd’s bare torso. 

They'd both wandered back to the blanket from the surf, Kurt to rest and Todd to avoid the headache salt water swims brought after too long. Kurt hadn't realized Todd had gone up to the rest area to shower off and his brain had short circuited when he'd rounded the changing stalls to find Todd beneath the spray of the outdoor shower, wetsuit stripped open to his hips, revealing mossy dappled skin and muscles Kurt has only ever felt. Todd blinked his eyes open when Kurt stumbled backwards off the paved platform with a yelp, tail and arms flailing. Kurt had stammered out some excuse neither of them believed. 

After the most awkward group shower experience in Kurt’s life, which is saying something given the other X-Kids curiosity about exactly how different Kurt might be in the boy’s locker room, Todd had ducked back into the changing rooms and come out with his wetsuit in a grocery bag, absently yanking on the leg of his rolled up jeans as they clung to his damp skin. 

Considering how often Kurt forewent underwear himself, the thought that Todd might be doing the same right now shouldn’t fluster him so much, but he couldn’t keep his fur from fluffing up when they’d bumped shoulders dropping down onto the blanket. Now, exhaustion between the ache thrumming under his skin and warmth of the sun slowly drying his wet fur overrides the feeling that he might catch fire every time they touch.

"No private canoodling on the communal blankets, gentlemen." Forge says, sitting down on the blanket on Kurt’s other side, tugging lightly on a lock of the blue mutant’s hair. Kurt grumbles and slaps the mechanic’s hand away with his tail.

"Go find a nice spot hidden on the rocks like the rest of us if you're not gonna spoon in the water.” Evan adds, sprawling out and pillowing his head on Kurt’s calves. Kurt pretends not to notice the pause before Evan settles down, acts like he doesn’t feel the armored mutant’s eyes roaming his legs to make sure he won’t jostle an injury. 

Todd’s hand withdraws from Kurt’s back, and the blue mutant turns his face to shoot the others a sour look at the intrusion. Forge gives him a knowing smirk as he lies down to rest his head on Evan’s stomach and Kurt swats him again. Evan just stares back, nonplussed from nearly two years of sitting next to Kurt in early morning drill briefings. The armored mutant shrugs and Kurt’s tempted to find a way to sit between him and Pietro on the ride home.

“Don’t hate the messenger, fuzzy man.” Evan says as the others all make their way back up the beach, dropping down on the blankets and rifling through the coolers and bags for drinks and snacks. 

“What’s the message?” Kitty asks, popping open a bag of tortilla chips and dunking one in the salsa Rogue cracks open. 

“To follow the example of your fearless leaders apparently and find ourselves a big flat rock.” Todd drawls, his hand returning to Kurt’s shoulder as Wanda drops down beside him, using the amphibious mutant as an elbow rest.

Kitty’s head whips around to scan the shore, and she giggles, “Wait, they’ve totally been gone for like an hour haven’t they?” 

“Amazed you can track that, given you and Lancelot vanished for a good thirty minutes there.” Pietro says, stopping just short of spraying them all with sand as Freddy and Lance stroll up behind him, beach ball in hand. 

“There’s a lot of glass houses around here for y’all to be throwing this many stones.” Freddy comments, dropping down to sit beside Wanda and Todd.

Tabby and Amara settle beside Kitty, Amara already reaching her hand in the chip bag. 

“Nothing wrong with fun in the sun.” Amara says as she chews.

“Until you get a rash from chafing against the sand.” Rogue drawls, scrunching up her nose. She plucks a chip from the bag and dunks it in the salsa. Kurt cranes up to try and snatch it from her fingers before she can eat it and yelps at the sharp twinge across his shoulders and up his arm. Rogue drops her chip to brace his shoulder, huffing. “Critter.” 

“Maybe not move around like you have no bones today, fuzzy man.” Evan says, sitting up from Kurt’s legs, his hand hovering over Kurt’s back. Kurt can feel his fingers fluttering there, like Kurt’s made of glass, like he’s afraid to touch him. Kurt bites back a growl, the sound a ghost of vibration in his chest. He sucks in a breath, lets it out. Shifts onto his side, heat flaring under his skin at how slow he has to go. He clenches his jaw against the spasm of his aching muscles, pulling himself up to sitting with a smile he doesn’t feel. 

“Not a biggie, just a twinge.” He says, ignoring the way Kitty’s eyes flash like knives. Rogue elbows her with a grunt before she can say anything and she shoves a handful of chips in her mouth. A cool hand wraps around his wrist, tugging a bit and Kurt looks over into amber eyes. Todd grins at him before shooting Evan a crooked smirk and sticking out the tip of his tongue. 

“Ain’t canoodling if you’re a backrest.” he says, looking at the armored mutant as he pulls Kurt towards him. 

The blue mutant hesitates, his stomach twisting as his eyes find the scrolling pattern of the beach blanket, cheerful colors faded by the sun. Wanda says something and Rogue answers, their voices clear and firm in a way that lurches the conversation forward and Kurt dares glance up at Todd as he feels air reenter his lungs with attention slipping away from him. The shorter mutant still has his hand on Kurt’s wrist, fingers resting there more than holding. He catches the tightness of worry in the corners of Todd’s mouth, but the amphibious mutant’s eyes are clear of pity. Kurt goes to him, sighing roughly as his shoulder aches with the motion. Todd hooks his chin over Kurt’s good shoulder as the blue mutant leans against him, turning to mutter in his ear.

“I’ve seen you with worse. Shit, I’ve given you worse, not gonna start treating you like a wilting flower, blueberry.” Todd whispers, his breath ghosting over the shell of Kurt’s ear and the blue mutant shudders. Then a wide mouth presses to the soft spot behind his ear, feather light and Kurt chokes smothering the squeak that threatens to slip from his throat. 

—--

The blue mutant goes stiff against Todd and he panics a second, stomach twisting with the thought that he’s pushed things too far. Then velvet fur brushes his cheek as warm lips find his temple derailing that speeding train before it can snare too far into panic. 

“You have to kiss my sensitive spots?” Kurt asks, voice a breath in his ear and goosebumps prickle over his skin. He remembers the low, breathy sounds the blue mutant made that day in the lab, the way he bucked as Todd’s lips, teeth and tongue roamed over those long pointed ears. A balled up napkin to the side of the head saves him from forming an answer.

“Hey, we’re trying to make decisions about secret X-geek rituals here. Whisper the stuff of daytime rom coms to each other later, dweebs.” Pietro says. Rather than point out Pietro would be the expert on said films given he and Freddy’s secret watching sessions, Todd snaps up the wadded up paper with his tongue, letting it get good and soaked with his spit before hocking it right back at the other mutant. Pietro shrieks, blurring out of the way, but the near miss of it whizzing past the pale mutant’s chest is satisfying enough. 

“What secret rituals?” Todd asks, glancing over to Wanda as he cuts off Pietro’s huffy rant about Todd’s mouth habits. He could probably recite the speedster’s diatribe like a Shakespearian monologue at this point.

“They won’t tell us.” Freddy whines, leaning over Wanda’s shoulder as he rolls his eyes. “They just keep arguing over whether to go get Scott and Jean now.”

“You’ll see when it’s time, which could be now if you guys would let it be!” Kitty says, Tabby and Amara echoing her. 

“Sugar, you know it’s always been a sundown thing.” Rogue says, “It sets the mood.” 

“Could you guys make this sound less like a sex ritual thing, before I steal the keys from Lance.” Pietro says and Kurt leans around Todd to give the mutant a deadpan look. 

“If you would not go to an orgy with your sister, why the hell would eye, Zoomen?” Kurt asks, and Todd nearly sprays him with coke, pressing a hand to his mouth as he laughs. Rogue and Wanda give matching disgusted snorts and Pietro winces. 

“Okay, yeah point.” He says, “Ritual sacrifice then. Makes sense for sundown.” 

“That’s still an hour away though, and I don’t want to swim anymore, I’m tired.” Amara grumbles, draping herself across Tabby’s lap. The blond runs her hand through her girlfriend’s hair, untangling the spots where the salt of the sea makes it snare. 

“You’re tired, so you wanna go do the thing? Because that doesn’t take energy at all.” Evan says, raising an eyebrow as he rests his chin on his hand. 

“You’re all doing this on purpose now.” Freddy says, sulking.

“Scott and Jean will come by sunset.” Kurt says, “We can play something until then?” 

Kitty groans and slumps against Lance, shoving the toes of one foot under Rogue’s crossed legs as she crosses her arms, “Fine. What then?” 

They settle on Never Have I Ever, passing around sodas and juice boxes since enough of the X-geeks are on painkillers that Kitty loudly asserts booze or what she mysteriously calls the “contact version” probably isn’t the best idea. Todd doesn’t miss the way her eyes linger on Kurt as she says it, and from the way the blue mutant stiffens, he doesn’t either. But Scott and Jean wend their way back to where everyone is sprawled before the conversation can go on and the tension seeps out Kurt. They casually drop down in one of the least crowded corners of the blankets like they aren’t both sporting hickeys that conveniently stop just shy of their J. Crew sweater necklines. 

“Where were you two?” Tabby asks, grinning as she waggles her eyebrows. Scott flushes all the way to his chest but Jean smirks, sweeping her hair over her shoulder. 

“Oh, probably not far from that spot between the rocks you too found earlier.” She says with a wink, and the group bursts into laughter when Scott stammers a startled “Jean!” 

“Scott, sweetie, I don’t think they’ll believe we were collecting shells for the last hour and just dropped them all.” Jean says, kissing Scott’s cheek.

Kurt pats the taller mutant’s knee with his tail, “I promise no one’s questioning your virtue, mein freund.” 

“Don’t worry Summers, we still know you’re rigid enough to use as a ruler.” Lance says, but he’s got that smile on face and softness in his voice he uses to take the sting out of Brotherhood insults. 

It works. Scott turns and sticks out his tongue at the other mutant, before clearing his throat and addressing the group, “So who’s going first?”

—--

“Never have I ever fallen asleep during meditation.” Jean says primly, and all the other X-Geeks groan, taking drinks. 

“That seriously has to be a secondary mutation.” Kurt grumbles, peeling the label off his rootbeer.

“Jean is just authentically a morning person.” Scott says, jostling the arm he has draped over her shoulder and the redhead laughs.

“Everyone’s brains are quieter in the morning,” Jean says quietly, “I like getting the time to myself.”
“Never have I ever lived in another country.” Scott says, and Todd expects Wanda, Pietro, and Kurt to drink, but Amara and Evan are a surprise. 

“We lived in a lot of places with Mom and Dad...before.” Pietro says quietly. 

“Hawa’ii is a sovereign nation occupied by the U.S.” Amara says, eyes scanning the Brotherhood like she’s ready for pushback. 

“Huh, didn’t know that.” Freddy says softly, Lance nodding beside him as he says, “Makes sense, this country is trash like that.”

Everyone’s eyes slide to Evan and he shrugs, “My mom and dad met when he was stationed in Mombasa and traveling through Nairobi. I was born on the U.S. military base there. We came here when I was like, three and Auntie O joined us when we moved to New York when I was in fourth grade.” 

“Never have I ever almost knocked over a train car with my friends in it.” Evan says, voice dry as Scott breaks into laughter, knocking into Rogue as he sways.

“Mein Gott, it was not that serious.” Kurt says, rolling his eyes and tipping his head to the sky as several questions jockey for attention in Todd’s brain.

“Dude, that sucker went up on one rail.” Evan says, leaning around Pietro to wave a hand at the blue mutant. “I fully thought we were getting attacked.”

“It was not technically me. Nina has strong legs.” Kurt demures, waving a hand through the air and several more questions spring from the first ones as Todd looks over to Tabby with a raised eyebrow. She looks just as confused, everyone now reading between the lines of the three mutants’ verbal ping pong game.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Scott says, voice shifting the way it does when the X-geeks get the upperhand in a fight, “whose tail was wagging out from under her dress?”

Todd chokes on a snicker as Kurt makes a strangled noise in his ear, fur fluffing up, a picture suddenly coming much clearer.

“My tail doesn’t wag!” Kurt squawks.

“What else do you call swishing side to side in a very fast, happy motion, man?” Evan asks, leaning forward and waving a hand in the air. Rogue grunts like someone’s spit in her drink.

“Was blue a good boy?” Tabby asks.

“I think that depends on whether you were inside or outside the train car in that particular incident.” Scott says, snickering.

“Lord, can someone go already.” Rogue says, hiding her face in her hand.

“Wait wait, are we doing direct attacks here?” Todd asks, “Because that gets dirty real quick.” 

“Oh sure, I’m the only one who gets the target approach before we make the rule.” Kurt grumbles, rolling his eyes. 

“How bout this: Everyone gets one direct callout, and everybody can only be directly called out once.” Forge says, leaning forward, “This way, no one gets dogpiled, but everyone has a chance to have a little fun.” 

Everyone murmurs in agreement, and Kitty adds, “Also, no using secrets!” 

Kurt throws his hands in the air, “My sex life isn’t a secret?”

Evan leans forward, waving a half eaten cheese puff at Kurt, “Not when it happens in broad daylight, man! That shit happened at like high noon!” 

“It wasn’t the most discreet thing I’ve ever seen you do.” Scott says, smirking, “Not that it says much, given your track record.” 

Kurt turns to look at Tabby, “My direct callout is over. Please go.” 

“Never have I ever hidden ice cream bars in the frozen veggie bag so I don’t have to share.” Tabby says, grinning. 

Scott and Lance lift their drinks at the same time and freeze as they look at each other.

“Alvers?” Scott asks, taking a drink of 7up.

“Summers.” Lance replies, not breaking eye contact as he takes a sip of Koolaid.

“Well, I actually only intended to get one of them with that.” Tabby says. 

Lance raises his drink to her, “Thanks for the easy immunity, Booms.” 

“Actually, same, that’s the least embarrassing thing you probably could have gotten me for.” Scott says.

“But now we all know where you hide your goods, mein freund.” Kurt says. 

“And we will check all the veggie boxes.” Rogue adds.

“Never have I ever kissed a boy and liked it.” Freddy says, “Not that there’s anything bad about kissing boys.” 

Everyone takes a drink except Wanda. Lance does a double take when Scott raises his cup. 

“Summers?” 

“Alvers.” Scott says.

Todd notices Kurt goes oddly still beside him. He nudges the other mutant’s shoulder with his chin and Kurt spares him a glance. He wriggles his eyebrows, absently sipping from his cup as Amara says something about never climbing out a window and Kurt does the same. The blue mutant looks at him and shrugs, flashing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, giving a little shake of his head. Wanda says something for her turn, but no one calls either of them out, so it probably wasn’t relevant to them. Todd winces, squeezing the blue mutant’s knee. Kurt leans into him a bit more as Wanda gives him a pinch and tells him to go. Later then, maybe.

“Never have I ever ruined horchata for an entire room full of people just so I could have a gallon for myself.” Todd drawls, glancing over at Tabby as the rest of the Brotherhood groans.

"You all got over it, mostly.” Tabby says with a smirk as she takes a drink. 

"Never have I ever been sick as a dog because I ate raw hamburger like a jackass.” Lance says, and Wanda, Pietro and Tabby drink, flipping Lance off. Freddy ducks his head like he’s hiding a laugh, while Todd continues to lean back on his elbows, one hand resting on Kurt’s hip.

"Hey, hey, hey, drink up with the rest of the fools Toddles.” Pietro says, swishing his soda at the amphibious mutant.

"Ah ah, the key point in that sentence was sick as a dog." Todd drawls patting his stomach, "This bad boy can take down a lunch bag, yo. Didn't even gurgle over some raw beef."

—-

“Never have I ever covered for Spiderman.” Pietro snaps, and Todd half lurches forward, before catching himself. Kurt’s muscles protest at the sudden motion from getting jostled loose, but he’s too busy staring at the shorter mutant to care.

“‘Tro!” Todd snaps, face flushing that curious orange red again as the others all break into chatter around them.

Pietro snorts and rolls his eyes, “What, like anyone’s gonna believe a bunch of mutant kids?”

“You know Spiderman?” Amara asks Tabby immediately spitting out, “And you didn’t tell me!”

Todd shrugs, looking away as he takes a drink, “He’s from Queens. We ran into each other on the bridge one day. He’s a nerd, but kinda funny.” 

“That’s it? You ran into each other on a bridge?” Evan asks, “I lived in New York for like four years and the closest I came was three city blocks.”

“Not a lotta people are kicking it at like 200 and something feet up, yo.” Todd drawls, “Next question.”

“You know, you’re not very good at being bad.” Kurt whispers, leaning in as Forge goes and everyone’s attention is drawn away in a cloud of chatter. Todd shivers and shrugs, eyes on his drink. Kurt grins poking him in the side with his tail.

“Shut it, fool, he had an exam or some shit.” Todd hisses back, but he’s fighting a grin. 

Kurt opens his mouth, but Kitty calls his name before he can say anything, “Vas?”

Kitty looks at him with her eyebrow raised, “Amara said ‘Never have I ever covered for a bunch of teenagers stealing a jet.’”

“I don’t know that I covered for them, so much as made sure they didn’t end up in Area 51 again.” Kurt says.

“Hey I already got pinned once!” Lance says, before whipping around to look at Kurt, “Wait, those little shits did it again?”

Kurt shakes his head, “Nein, this time it was Jamie with a couple of the other younger kids. Apparently, he was disappointed being left out the time you und Kitty kept them from being blasted out of the sky. They were going to do it anyway, I figured better they do it with someone who can actually pilot.” 

“So,” Pietro says, “Another group of you little snots took a joyride with a fucking plane and none of them got expelled?” 

“Yup.” Kurt says, popping the ‘P’. 

“The kids were made to do advanced flight training and have had to do service work to learn responsibility,” Scott says, not looking at Lance. Even he doesn’t seem to believe his words. 

Kitty scoots in a little tighter against Lance’s side, “But they get to stay and no one called their parents about it. And they didn’t have to break flight safety protocol.” 
“Sugar, I dunno that not getting their parent’s called is a lack of punishment,” Rogue mutters, voice bitter.

Kitty gives a disgusted grunt, “I have but don’t judge me. Never have I ever lied to my family. Like, actual lies, not when you’re five and swear you didn’t get into grandma’s cookies when there’s jam on your mouth.” 

“Damn, Pryde, invoking the ‘no judgment’ card to be a fucking buzzkill.” Pietro says as the entire group save Freddy and Kurt take a drink. Kurt swirls his soda, tail flicking as his stomach twists. The other X-Kids all go quiet, drinking without comments.

“Never lied to the ones who count.” Todd says kicking out his foot to bump Freddy and Wanda’s leg. 

Wanda smirks at him before looking at her brother, “Not anymore.” 

Pietro’s eyes are wet, then his face blurs and his cheeks are a blotchy red as he looks at the other Brotherhood members before returning his sister’s stare, “Yeah, not anymore.” 

Everyone glances up at the big mutant and Freddy shrugs, glancing down at his Dr. Pepper, “I lost touch with my relatives a year or so before Mystique found me. Before that I never lied to my aunt or grandpa.” 

Tabby reaches around Todd and Kurt for Freddy’s hand, he takes hers and squeezes it. 

“Wait, what’s up with you, boyscout?” Pietro asks, flicking a chip at Kurt, “You never told your mutti a lie even when you’re knocking over train cars?” 

Kurt flushes, soda can crinkling in his hand as he squeezes it too tight as the others laugh. “I don’t think anyone tells their parents things like that!” 

“He’s got us there, ‘Tro. You out here telling Daddy Mags about knocking boots?” Tabby asks and Pietro flushes and gags while Evan’s face twists like he’s discovered leftovers abandoned to grow new life in the back of the fridge. 

“Tabby, why?” Evan says.

“Still, dude, really?” Scott asks, and Kurt fights the urge to toss his soda at him. He should have just taken a drink with everyone else. “You saying they know about what you get up to all summer?” 

Todd looks at him with a smirk, “Why are your friends making it sound like I should get a travel visa for fun in the sun with you, blueberry?” 

Kurt’s face heats and the panic over the attention drops a bit with the innuendo.

“Not sure you’ll like everything that happens after dark though.” Kitty mumbles and Kurt’s eyes snap to her. his retort dies in his throat when her eyes are wet. He sucks in a breath. 

“When I made the choice to come back here, my parents spoke with me.” He says, “They told me not every path I choose is one they would choose for me, but they will always guide me as best they can. I don’t tell them everything. But I don’t lie about what I’m doing, either. Even in the summer.” 

“Really not undermining your weird crime dads’ whole ‘you’re a baby crime lord’ thing here, buddy.” Freddy says. Kurt looks back at the other mutant and shrugs. 

“I mean, crime lord is a bit of a stretch.” He says, waving a hand through the air. “Though I don’t think most of the things I do here in America could be considered legal either.” 

Amara groans, lurching up from the blanket as her hands catch fire, “Alright, darkness is falling, let’s end this game before we get any more depressing. Time to wreck shit.” 

“It’s not wrecking shit, we deliberately check to avoid that.” Jean says, standing up and brushing off her hands. “But yes, I think it’s time.” 

“Ohhhh, ritual sacrifice hour with the X-Geeks.” Pietro stage whispers as they all lurch to their feet. 

Kurt hesitates before standing. Todd gives him a look, but backs off when the blue mutant waves off his offered hand. Rogue reaches out and squeezes his arm, smiling when he glances her way and some of the ice that’s settled in his gut melts. Then he catches the watery eyed tense look Kitty sends his way and it freezes all over again. But the sun is setting and Scott’s leading them down the beach. It’s time. 

------------

“Is the airspace clear?” Scott asks, and Jean looks up without seeing, her hair doing that zero gravity thing it gets when she uses her powers. 

“All clear.” She answers, and Scott nods before whipping off his glasses, tilting his face to the sky and opening his eyes wide.

The moonlight can’t compete with the neon red of Cyclop’s vision and the world takes on that intense “flashing lights in a haunted house” vibrancy that makes Todd’s eyes ache. Cyclops really could level a city block in ten minutes if he felt like it, but a pair of fuck boy sunglasses and he’s presentable to the world, human even. Meanwhile Todd can only do damage in a six foot radius, ten if he’s really trying, but on good days he’s a sideshow, on bad he’s the creature from the black lagoon. His stomach twists, something sour and bitter like stale coffee rolling in his gut and he looks away from the display. 

Scott slips his glasses back on in the span of a blink. His cheeks are wet when he drops his face from the sky. No one comments on it, though Kurt steps up and throws an arm around the taller boy’s shoulders, stepping onto tiptoe to reach. 

“Anybody else want to let off some steam?” He asks, tail swishing through the air. 

Without a word, Jean wades out until the water reaches her knees, hands fisted at her sides. She pulls in a breath before letting out a blood curdling scream. Todd thought she was loud before, but it’s like she had a second set of lungs she hadn’t bothered using the first time. The ocean in front of her warps around the sound, tide parting like an invisible pipeline has been dropped into the water. Out of the corner of his eye, Todd sees Wanda raise an eyebrow, face shifting ever so slightly as she shares a look with Rogue, who shrugs with that unsmile of hers.

That exchange seems to mean something because Wanda wades out to stand in line with Jean, a good twelve feet from her. She smiles when Jean glances her way, the close lipped, lopsided one she does when they’re all spread out on the floor covered in sweat and grime but alive after a mission. As one, the two mutants turn back out to the horizon and scream, red lightning crackling off Wanda as the sea parts in front of Jean. 

This seems to spark everyone else into motion, the others all finding their spots in the surf, shouting and screeching at the top of their lungs. Kurt holds out his hand to Todd as they wade out, not that either of them have powers that can really be let out any more than they already do. Todd snags Freddy’s arm with his and the big mutant throws his arm around Forge as Kurt links arms with Rogue who’s holding Kitty’s hand and they wade out together, screaming themselves hoarse. Evan wades out up to his thighs before bristling into spines, shooting his arm forward and launching spikes like javelins into the surf with a shout. Lance gets a good thirty feet away from the others as he makes the ocean buck and wave under his feet. Amara and Pietro both shoot out towards the horizon as Tabby launches explosions from her finger tips, sending them out far and high so they burst in the air. 

After a while, Rogue breaks from their line and walks over to one of the craggy outcrops from the sand, grabbing a boulder bigger than her torso and hauling it up before turning to Freddy.

“You ever two person juggle, Tex?” She asks, and he laughs.

“Once or twice.” He says, ambling over and picking up another boulder. They move a ways down the beach before starting up the game.

“Race you, speedy boy.” Amara says, lifting off the ground as her body blazes into heat and light.

“Enjoy losing, hot stuff.” Pietro retorts, taking off out onto the water as Tabby calls the go head.

“Betcha my aim’s better than yours, Scotty boy.” Todd says, tossing a rock the size of his fist up in the air before knocking it out of the sky with a glob of spit. 

Summers smirks at him, stooping to pick up another rock, “You’re on, Tolansky.” 

He gets so caught up in their game of William Tell that he doesn’t notice Kurt and Kitty are not among the revelry til the last of the sun disappears from the horizon. 

-----------

“I think you should tell him.” Kitty says as she chucks a rock out towards the horizon. It lands a good 20 meters out with a satisfying plunk.

Kurt does not want to be having this conversation now, next week, or potentially ever. 

“He’ll find out in a weels.” He says, dropping his eyes to where he’s carving aimless lines in the sand with his tail.

“So you’re just gonna let your boyfriend find out about what you do all summer when the rest of the Brotherhood does?” She asks, her voice dropping into the register she reserves for letting Scott and Logan know just how well she expects a plan to go.

Kurt winces, biting his lip, because if they were actually dating, that would be a pretty douche move. His hand slides up to the scars from July and the lapping of waves on the shore become the hiss of the tide against the dock, the playful yelling and sounds of the others rough housing warps into cut off growls and shouts echoing off warehouse walls.

Kurt digs his fingers into his forearm, turns his eyes out to the horizon and counts his breaths like Logan taught them. He’s in Bayville. It’s nearly fall. His swimsuit is that slight kind of damp that makes sand cling to it in the ways that make him hate swimsuits. The cuts from the mission throb with the salt of the sea and his muscles ache with the fatigue that comes from overuse. Kitty’s strawberry shampoo mixes with the smell of sunscreen and sweat over the ocean brine.

He blows out a breath and turns to her. Something in his expression softens the steel edge her face gets when she’s decided she’s right and just needs to say a few more words to convince you. The softness makes him want to port to the next town over even more than that determined look did and he sways back from her. Kitty sighs, dropping a hand to his knee and squeezing. 

“Don’t you think he’d understand?” She asks. 

Kurt swallows, looking back down at the sand once more, because the sand at least isn’t asking him hard questions while looking right through him. He wants to spit out a no, shove off the shore and stomp his way back to the others, or say he wants to be alone and port back to where their stuff is, sulk under a beach blanket until everyone’s tired enough to make their way back. 

But there’s that tiny little voice in his gut, the one that whispers, “Doesn’t he always get it, though? It’s why he pissed you off so much, before.” Kurt shoves that voice back into the basement of his brain. Some things are not gettable. 

“You all are already mad at me about all this.” He says, knowing he’s being a child and unable to pull the words back into his mouth or stop more from coming, “Why would I want to piss him off too?” 

Kitty groans, the sound the closest she can get to a growl as she slaps the sand between them, “Worried is not mad. I just want you to be safe. We want you to be safe.” 

She pulls away from him, folding in on herself, arms wrapped around her knees as she stares out at the shore, “Summer really scared me Kurt. You really scared me.” 

Kitty looks so small as she wriggles her toes into the wet sand, hands gripping her elbows so tightly her knuckles turn white. The strap of her swimsuit has slipped off one sandy shoulder, and Kurt can see the bright line that will likely bloom into a sunburn there tomorrow. Guilt eats at him like moths in his gut. The beat of their wings whispers he is a coward.

“I’m sorry.” He says, the sentence too short and the words too small. He puts his hand over Kitty’s and a bit of the tension in his spine unspools when she threads her fingers through his. 

“Everyone only tells us half the truth, can’t we at least be honest with each other?” She asks, “If something happens, don’t you want him to know?” 

“Know what?” A familiar drawl asks, and Kurt’s heart leaps to his throat as he turns to see Todd hopping over the rocks to join them.  

“I have another boyfriend...kind of?” Kurt says, coiling his tail tight around Kitty’s calf when she shoots him that burning “that’s not what I meant and you know it” look of hers she gets whenever he finds a way to answer her questions without answering anything at all.

“Sure dawg, one of your summer loves in Europe right?” Todd asks, dropping down into the sand, “S’not like we’re exclusive, yo. I got friends back in the city some might call the same way, y’know?” 

“Kitty thinks the other Brotherhood members might not” Kurt waves his hand in the air, “Get it.” 

Kitty shoots him another look, and Kurt’s ears pin back against his skull. Alright, so maybe this is what Jean would call projection. But he is actually worried about this, and they have actually talked about it, so he’s not technically lying to Todd here. Technically.

Todd shrugs, “They get us and Tabby an’ Amara. Shit, Amara regularly has half the soccer team eating out of her hand and has a guy back home she’s been going round with since middle school, and none of them question that she’s here for Tabby. Why would we be any different?” 

Kitty gets up in a huff, kicking enough sand over Kurt’s leg that he’s sure it’s not an accident, “I’m gonna go back with the others.” 

“Gonna guess the secret boyfriend not boyfriend was not what you two were having a heart to heart about?” Todd asks, dropping down into the divot in the sand Kitty left behind.

Kurt blows a raspberry, ruffling his hair as he looks at Todd out of the corner of his eye, “Not exactly.” 

“Well, you don’t owe me shit man, s’not like we’re for real here.” Todd says with a shrug, and there’s a twinge in Kurt’s chest he tells himself is leftover aches from the mission.

“You’ll find out.” He says, reaching out and dropping his hand over Todd’s on the sand, “When you meet the others this week.”

“Yeah, you’re mysterious contacts, right?” Todd asks, ruffling the fur on the back of Kurt’s hand with his thumb, he glances up at him, eyes glinting with mischief, “What, you really part of the German Mob?”

Kurt’s face must show something, because Todd’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open in a startled laugh.

“Shit, dawg, I was joking, there isn’t a German mob really, right?” He asks.

Kurt laughs, shaking his head. “Nein, or at least if there is, I'm not connected to them.” 

“So, you’re not part of the mob, and it’s not about your summer loving, but you do have something else you don’t trust to tell me.” Todd says, eyes turning back to the water. His voice is casual, but there’s a stiffness to his shoulders, like he’s bracing for a hit.

“It isn’t that I don’t trust you. I.” Kurt says, hating how small his voice is, “It’s complicated.” 

Todd snorts, “If you’re worried about ruining your boy scout image, don’t worry, that happened the first time you hauled off and socked me back behind the gym. I may not speak German, or Sinte but I know how to catch when someone’s calling me a motherfucker, yo.”

“I seem to remember spending all day getting tripped in the hall and pulling spitballs out of my fur before throwing that punch.” Kurt counters, voice dry.

“Sounds like a complicated memory, yo.” Todd drawls before shaking his head and turning back to Kurt. “Look, there’s shit you don’t know about me. A lot of shit. And there’s a lot of shit I don’t know about you. I ain’t promising I won’t be mad when I find out whatever it is you did last summer, but I don’t think you owe me your entire life story if you ain’t ready to share things. Even if this was legit. Love doesn’t mean spilling our guts.” 

“Love?” Kurt asks. Todd’s hand twitches under his. Kurt spreads his fingers, squeezing Todd gently before the other mutant can pull away.

Todd tilts his chin up, an old familiar glint coming into his eyes, “Yeah. I said fucking love. You got a problem with that?”

Kurt can’t tell if it’s the surf in his ears or his own blood. Suddenly the cool wind of the night is gone. “Isn’t that a little fast if we’ve only been together a couple months? Would we love each other already?”

“You saying I ain’t lovable? This is some quality fall hard and fast material right here, fool.” Todd asks, thumping his chest. There’s a lightness to his tone that doesn’t match the brittle edge to his expression. Kurt stares for a long moment, he should probably joke back, play the moment off and let them move on, but he can’t manage to find the words.

“No, I’m definitely not saying that.” He says softly, swaying in a bit closer. Todd’s eyes fall half shut. He doesn’t close the space between them but he doesn’t move away either.

A burning ball of energy sails over their heads, landing in the water before combusting in a spray of hot sand and steam. Kurt dives for Todd at the same time as the shorter mutant lunges for him. They crash into each other and end up skittering back on the beach as water and sand spatter over them. 

“C’mon lovebirds, time to troop back home!” Tabby calls, waving from up the shore, Amara at her side as the others linger a little ways up the shore. 

Kurt looks at Todd’s sand dusted face, squeezing his arm a little tighter around the amphibious mutant’s waist. Todd squeezes him back where his webbed hand rests on Kurt’s bicep. That wide mouth stretches in a smile that bursts into laughter and Kurt collapses into giggles resting his forehead against Todd’s cool one. The other mutant smells like green and salt and sweat. Many things are complicated, but somehow, the feeling of cool skin under his palms is not. 

Chapter Text

The Wolverine is waiting in front of the Brotherhood house when they pull up, the red cherry of his cigar hovering beside his face like an overgrown firefly. The X-Geeks’ voices taper off one by one as they catch sight of their teacher. Kurt falls still beside Todd, and the amphibious mutant’s tempted to suggest they turn the car around. He catches Wanda’s eye in the rearview mirror, notices how her fingers grip the steering wheel and knows she’s thinking the same thing.

“Party’s over,” Rogue mutters from the passenger seat and Kurt sighs, “It was fun while it lasted.”

The Wolverine stubs out his cigar on the side of his boot heel and tucks it into his jacket pocket as they all get out of the cars. Todd eyes the short mutant’s arms and wonders which one had a recent divorce from the rest of him. 

“School night kids,” Logan growls, “No more playing love shack, it’s back to the Institute.” 

“We have to get our stuff from inside, Mr. Logan.” Kitty says, scrunching her toes in her sandals and the older mutant grunts, tipping his chin towards the Brotherhood house and Kitty, Rogue, Tabby, and Amara all head inside. 

Kurt gives Todd a rueful smile, ducking in to kiss the amphibious mutant’s temple before following the others. Todd tears his eyes away from the blue mutant’s retreating back to find Logan watching him with that flat unimpressed look that his face seems permanently stuck in. Goosebumps prickle over his skin and he schools his face into the bored look he saves for cops and teachers. 

Wolverine holds his stare for a long breath before moving on to Evan. Todd sighs. Forge bumps his elbow as Freddy’s knuckles nudge his back. Lance quietly edges a little bit in front of the rest of the Brotherhood.

The mechanic tosses his arm around Todd’s shoulders and whispers, “Good job facing the Alpha Dad.” 

Logan eyes Evan where he’s leaning against the X-Geeks’ car arguing with Pietro about camera angles or some shit.

“Guessing you’re not gonna give me an actual address to drop you off, huh kid?” Logan asks Spyke and the armored mutant shrugs.

“I was gonna come by a little while before heading home. The others said Auntie O took a rough hit and I wanted to check on her,” Evan replies, pushing away from the car to sidle up alongside Scott.

The only sign Wolverine’s surprised is the infinitesimal uptick of his eyebrows as he shifts his weight. Evan holds the older mutant’s stare and after a moment the man nods, “She’ll be happy to see you.” 

The others return in a plume of sulfur. Wolverine snorts and shoots Kurt a dirty look, but Kurt  sticks out his tongue, “You always tell us to be quick.” 

He slides a look over to Forge, "We dropping you home, Woodstock?" 

Forge throws his arm around Lance's shoulders, "I think I got a ride, thanks moto mounty." 

Wolverine stares at the pair for a long moment, corner of his mouth ticking up in what might pass as a smile for him. He snorts, muttering "moto mounty" under his breath before looking at Scott and Jean, “You lead the way, Scooter.” 

Scott steps back as Wanda passes him the keys, letting Jean take them instead as he gives Logan a look obscured behind flat red lenses, “Not my turn, Sir.” 

The corners of Logan’s mouth pinch as he ducks his head to Jean in what must pass for an apology in Wolverine because the redhead smiles and waves him off. She hugs Freddy goodbye and gives Wanda’s hand a squeeze before waving to the rest of the Brotherhood. Jean climbing into the driver’s seat sparks the rest of the X-Geeks into motion, as Scott thumps Lance on the shoulder and gives the rest of them a short salute before hopping into the passenger’s side.

“You gonna be okay?” Todd asks, turning to Kurt. He figures they have a couple minutes while Kitty and Evan give Lance and Pietro a final tonsil inspection and Tabby and Rogue pretend like they aren’t dragging their feet. 

The blue mutant’s leaning against the side of the car, bag slumped at his feet. He looks worn around the edges, the sharp bitterness from last night fading to something bruised. The smile he gives Todd doesn’t touch the shadows under his eyes, but his tail catches the amphibious mutant’s wrist. Kurt startles at the contact, looking down at the wandering limb as his shoulders fold in on themselves. Todd turns his hand to wrap his fingers around Kurt’s tail, holding without keeping him from pulling away if he wants. Kurt stays. 

They didn’t talk much on the ride home and it felt like Kurt was teetering between falling right into him and porting to the next continent. Todd didn’t know what to make of the flux but the way Kurt snaps out of his hollow, distant moments to look at Todd like he wants to memorize his face, makes Todd shove away the gibbering gremlins that really want to take it personally. 

“Do I have a choice?” Kurt asks, then winces, shaking his head, “Ach, sorry, I’m being a pity baby.” 

Todd could point out that he does have a choice, but he won’t be saying anything they don’t already know. He runs his thumb along the warm spade of Kurt’s tail instead.

“Don’t think it counts as being a pity baby if you’re pissy about getting thrashed around like a cat toy then called home like a toddler that’s dug up the garden,” Todd says and Kurt smiles. 

“I had fun tearing up the petunias with you,” Kurt says, running his fingers through his hair and glancing at Todd through his lashes.

Todd scuffs the cracked asphalt with his sneaker, “Me too, sorry I left you for a bit there.”

Kurt’s tail slides up and around to squeeze Todd’s hand as he shakes his head, “The water is your place, und we went as a group. You didn’t leave me, you had time for yourself then hung out with me later.” 

"Elf, being able to travel in the blink of an eye is not an excuse for lollygagging, get a move on." Wolverine grunts as he throws a leg over his bike and shoves his helmet on. 

Kurt shoots Todd an apologetic look, squeezing his hand before moving to shoulder his bag with a wince. Todd beats him to it, nearly headbutting Kurt in the process.

"I got it!" Kurt says, scrabbling at the strap Todd clutches in his hand. Todd brushes him off, hopping the distance to the car and slinging the blue mutant's bag under an empty seat.

"Yeah, but you don't need to got it," Todd says, startling when he turns to find Kurt right beside him. The other mutant smells like salt and sweat and the tang of lime chips. It's not particularly enchanting, but Todd sways into him before he realizes it. Kurt closes the distance, lips warm and chapped against Todd's. 

"Danke," he says, the word swallowed up by the rev of Wolverine's motorcycle. Kurt rolls his eyes, swinging into the car and tugging the door shut behind him. He blows Todd a kiss right before the door clicks shut and Todd mimes catching it as the car pulls away, the Wolverine trailing behind like a child's pull string toy. 

Lance glances over at Forge as they all stand in the Brotherhood's front lawn, "So you got a curfew too?" 

The mechanic grins, flipping open his bag to pull out a stack of VHSs, "Nah, told my folks I'd be sleeping over and unlike you punks, I don't have school in the morning." 

Lance pulls his 'I'm responsible for all of you, brush your teeth and eat your vegetables' face and Pietro zips up and throws an arm around his shoulders.

"Oh c'mon Lancelot, none of us have tests tomorrow, like it matters if we slouch in our seats half the day and zone out at the whiteboard," Pietro says.

"I mean, Kurt did give us the homework for the next two weeks," Freddy says and the others turn to him with a range of scandalized and appreciative looks, "What? It's been a stressful few weeks, staying up late watching movies is like, the least destructive bad decision we could make." 

"I'd take that argument in court," Todd says and Forge nods his head, humming in agreement. 

"Bad decisions," Wanda says, voice lilting up at the end as her brother mirrors her tone, dipping down at the end.

The others join in, closing in around Lance chanting "Bad Decisions" in various pitches. Todd hops a circle around where Pietro is shaking Lance's shoulders. Forge tosses Freddy and Wanda a couple of the tapes and the three begin waving them over their heads, circling the pair in the opposite direction. Lance ducks his head, but Todd's low enough to the ground he can see the older boy is biting his lip holding back laughter. He dives for Lance's feet, sprawling out on his back and croaking, "Bad Decisions" in that warbling way that distorts his voice. 

Lance caves, breaking into laughter as he waves the others off, "Fine! Fine, but we sleep by one!" 

"Three!" Todd crows, pointing up at the other mutant.

Lance rolls his eyes, grabbing Todd's outstretched hand and gently squeezing his finger, "One thirty." 

"Two," Wanda says, turning to walk backwards up their walkway, as Todd lets Lance pull him upright.

"One thirty," Lance repeats as they parade inside.

"One forty five," Freddy offers, pointing with his fingertips pressed together like a lawyer approaching the bench. 

"Would you little shits shut up!" Calls a reedy voice from a nearby porch, and the Brotherhood collectively groans.

"Sorry Mister Withers, we'll keep it quiet," Calls Freddy, slapping at Todd as the smaller mutant jabbers his impression of the cranky old bastard. 

Lance waves them in the house rolling his eyes, "One forty five if you stop antagonizing the old fuck and get in the house." 

They all duck inside as Todd goes, "it's fine, if he's pissed in the morning I'll offer to fix whatever new busted shit he has lying around."

"Like you don't already do that anyway," Pietro says, shutting out the creeping chill of the fall night behind them as they stream into the house laughing. 

—

The growl of the engine echoes off the X-bay’s cement walls as they pull into the garage. The ride home was quiet, save a few murmurs here and there. Conversations petered out the closer they got to the mansion and Jean had lowered the stereo when Rogue grumbled about getting a headache. 

Kurt weaves a bit stepping out of the car and Scott steadies him without looking. Rogue snatches up his backpack before he can shoulder it, sticking her tongue out at him when he makes a sour face. Kitty doesn’t even look at him as he gets out of the car and Tabby and Amara shoot him bewildered looks as she breezes past. He winces. He doesn’t know what to say to her about this. About the summer. How to make her get it. He doesn’t know how to get it, really. 

Evan peels off from the others when they get inside, waving as he heads up the stairs for his aunt’s room while the others linger in the hallway. Kurt thinks about his empty bedroom and how quiet the mansion is, even with Berserker and Cannonball as suitemates.

“School night, get a move on kids,” Logan says, walking into the foyer behind them. They all share a silent look before making their way towards the dorms.

The girls head upstairs as Kurt and Scott make their way back to their rooms. Kurt takes his bag back from Rogue, giving her a hug with the hand off. Scott gives Kurt’s shoulder a squeeze and mutters a soft “good night” as they part ways. Kurt steps into his room and sags against his closed door for a long moment. Ray and Sam are silent next door, likely already asleep. He sighs and shucks off his clothes without bothering to turn on the light, kicking them away into the darkness as he slips into the bathroom to shower.

—

“I want to talk,” Kitty says, poking her head down through Kurt’s ceiling as Kurt steps out of the bathroom, wringing out his hair with an old T-shirt

“You should probably come down then, before hanging upside down turns you into a tomato,” Kurt says, though the humor in his voice is watery.

Kitty tucks and rolls down through the ceiling, landing in a gymnast’s pose in the middle of Kurt’s bed. Her stance is half-hearted tonight, elbows bent instead of fully out. Kurt’s applause is too, but he holds a hand up to help her down like always. She hesitates a moment before taking it. Her damp hair has soaked the shoulders of her faded sleep shirt. Kurt tightens the knot on his post-shower robe. She’s walked in on him before, but accidental nudity doesn’t feel like it will help whatever strange space they’ve fallen into.

“What’s up?” Kurt asks, stepping backwards to drop down into his rolling desk chair.

Kitty shoots him a look before flopping onto his bed like a puppet with its strings cut.

“I still don’t understand,” she says, lurching upright to stare him in the face, “You’ve never been like that. Not with Duncan, not Sabretooth, not even the sentinels!”

Kurt feels the air grow thin. Kitty keeps talking, he hears her, but the words bounce off the inside of his skull like BBs. He swallows, presses his toes into the soft red of the dorm room carpet, feels his stomach rise and fall with his breath, watches the way the rhinestones on Kitty’s shirt catch the light of the moon drifting through his window. He realizes Kitty has stopped talking a second too late.

“Sorry, vas?” Kurt asks, tail coiling tightly around the chair base as he braces for Kitty to snap at him.

Kitty watches him, face still and eyes flicking like he’s a piece of code she’s trying to work apart. Kurt wants to climb out the window and disappear under the cloak of the trees. He wants to teleport into the woods and come back in a week. He’s pretty sure the fact that he’s bucknaked save for his bathrobe is the only thing that’s stopping him.

“What happened to you?” Kitty asks, and Kurt’s heart freezes in his chest, his thoughts layering over each other faster than he can notice them.

He was taken. They were taken. The light burned him, bit him. Laughter. Men, sour, horrible utterly plain men, the kind who could walk down a street and never be noticed, the kind who could kick you in the ribs and join the shocked crowd asking why you were crying without catching a suspicious glance, wrapping their hands around Kurt’s wrists, tossing him in an iron cage. Eyes, a room of nothing but wide eyes and gaping mouths and pointing fingers that laughed and gasped as he clung to the cage ceiling to escape the electrified floor. Nights turned into weeks spent testing the shock collars, the chains, the locks. A chance. The open night air and screaming voices. Blood under his nails and a boot to his stomach. His mother’s voice, his father’s cry. Arms around him, holding him for the first time as he sobbed terrified this was a dream—

“Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, ohmygodI’msorrypleasebreathe,” Kitty is saying, her hands on his arms and her face staring up into his, her eyes wet and wide. 

The mission. The beach. The mansion. His room. Right. Kurt swallows around the lump in his throat. He opens his mouth to speak but makes sort of a weird little squeaking noise the first time. He coughs, laughing despite himself. The sound has a sharp edge, glass grinding against itself.

“Oh please don’t, like, have a mental breakdown, we’re both still covered in bruises and I will feel so bad,” Kitty says. Her hands are warm through his sleeves.

Kurt hiccups, “Think about how funny a story that’ll be when we’re older though, ‘hey remember the time we ran around a weirdass tomb and then I made you mad a few days later and went nuts to avoid talking about it? Wild right?’”

Kitty’s face falls from the grin that had been blooming across it, “Kurt I’m not angry.”

“You stormed off at the beach and wouldn’t look at me when we got out of the car,” He says, eyes sliding away from her face to stare over her shoulder at his abandoned swimsuit shoved halfway under his bed.

“Okay, I’m a little mad, but because I don’t get what’s happening!” Kitty says, “You weren’t…angry like this before. You’ve never talked about here like you did when we were at the brotherhood’s the other night. And I’d never seen you the way you were last summer but–”

“But what if I go bonkers and start trying to box Herr Professor in the hallway?” Kurt asks, smiling without any mirth.

Kitty sighs, dropping down on her butt to sit at Kurt’s feet. She rests her head on his knee, “Yeah.”

Kurt twirls one of her wet curls around his finger, watching how it stands out against the vanishing darkness of his fur.

“I mean, I don’t trust the professor the way we did when we were freshman, but as long as he doesn’t stick me in a little box and force me to dance for people, I’m not planning on throwing punches at the breakfast table.” He says, tipping his head and grinning at Kitty, “Though I may switch all his ties out for gag ones if he keeps up these surprise drills.”

Kitty looks at him for a long moment before tears begin streaming down her face. Dread runs down Kurt’s back like ice. He shouldn’t have said anything. Panic that he’s hurt her wars with fear that she’ll never see him as a person again. He reaches out and squeezes her shoulders and Kitty throws herself at him, sobbing.

“How the fuck are you still my friend? I’m such an asshole,” Kitty sobs. Kurt wonders if he fell asleep on the drive home and is having some bizarre junk food induced nightmare. He wraps his arms around Kitty, rocking them both.

“I don’t know what’s happening, but you are one of my best friends and not an arschloch,” Kurt says, aiming for comforting but coming out far more confused. Kitty laughs wetly, rubbing her hands down his back.

“I was so mad at you for hiding that you were a mutant back in sophomore year,” Kitty says. Kurt winces, old shame flushing hot down his neck.

“I was a big weenie there for a bit,” He says, tugging on a loose thread from Kitty’s shirt.

“If you were a weenie, I was a jerk,” She says, “I only had to deal with people finding out I was a mutant for what, like a year? But you never knew anything different.” 

“Not until the image inducer, no,” Kurt says softly, trying not to freeze up in Kitty’s arms.

“How old were you?” She asks, voice small, like she isn’t sure she should be saying the question, “You don’t have to–”

“Nine. I mean, I was nine years old, not like, no,” Kurt answers before she can finish and Kitty goes so very still against him.

“When I was nine, I got pulled out of recess for a week because I dumped my water bottle on Jimmy Vizzole’s head,” Kitty says, “He kept calling me Bride of Frankenstein and put worms in my hair.”

Kurt snorts, “Why did he call you that?”

“I had an expander in my mouth. It’s this metal thing that moves your jaw, he said it got struck by lightning and that’s why my hair was so curly,” Kitty says. 

“I don’t think he read the right book,” Kurt says as Kitty pulls back to look at him, he holds a hand up to his ear, “I got my ears pierced when I was nine, too. My godmother did them with a tattoo needle and a potato.”

Kitty tucks her hair behind her ears, “I got mine when I was twelve, as a reward for sticking with piano lessons. I quit six months later.”  

“When I was twelve my parents let me get a mohawk because I did extra chores a whole summer,” Kurt holds up the long portion of his hair, winking, “Turns out my hair’s way more manageable if half of it’s gone, so I’ve kept the under part short ever since.” 

Kitty laughs, then stops, “I don’t think I know what it’s like to be hurt the way he hurt you,” she pressed a hand to Kurt’s chest, “He’s a mutant too, I can’t understand why he did that.”

Kurt aches, a feeling that is and is not in his body at the same time, that echoes all the way from those ugly nights years ago off into the horizon of a future he can’t see yet. He puts his hand over Kitty’s, “Herr Xavier is a mutant. So is Magneto. Und the Juggernaut. The Morlocks are all mutants. Mystique is. I think I could count the things they agree on one handed, even with the finger shortage. We have differences as we have things in common,” Kurt shrugs, “Being mutants isn’t enough to stop Ray and Bobby from arguing over the remote every night, it didn’t keep us and the Brotherhood from kicking the stuffing out of each other for years, and it wasn’t enough for Blight to choose his humanity over making money.” 

“You were just a kid! What kind of person does that to a kid!” Kitty says, hands waving and Kurt ducks to avoid getting smacked in the head. Her words clang off some raw, aching place where Kurt’s ribs meet his spine. He sucks in a breath.

“Douchebags. I think that’s the technical term,” Kurt says. Kitty stares at him, mouth wobbling. 

She laughs, “I think Todd’s rubbing off on you,” Kurt smirks, but Kitty covers his mouth before he can say anything, “Oh, no, nope, gross, don’t.” 

“I don’t know what any of that felt like, but it was terrifying to watch you so angry I thought you’d give up your future just to make sure he didn’t have one either,” Kitty says and Kurt’s heart twists in his chest as she hugs him, her voice is muffled against his neck, “Please don’t do anything like that again, promise.”

Kurt sighs, wraps his arms around her, “I don’t know that I could keep that one.”

Kitty stiffens, “Kurt–”

“I can’t be calm in the face of someone who’d make me a beast instead of a person. I can’t let someone who’d sell another, who’d turn them into a sideshow, a weapon, a punching bag, just because they can, go whistling down the street,” Kurt says, the words coming out in a rush.

“So don’t!” Kitty says, squeezing him harder, “Don’t. But don’t get so swallowed up in your anger that you nearly get yourself killed.”

Kurt blinks, the room around them blurring in pale silver and deep purple, “I’ll try.” 

“Good,” Kitty says, nodding against his shoulder.

Kurt’s door handle rattles and they both jump. Kitty springs backwards, but stumbles attempting to rise to her feet as her ankle twinges. Kurt jumps to catch her, but tangles in his robe as the knot comes undone and he tries to catch it with his tail. They end up huddled together in an awkward crouch on the floor, half laughing half whining as their aching bodies protest. 

The door swings open, revealing Tabby, Amara and Rogue silhouetted by the yellow hall light.

“Yoo hoooo, thought you two could have a sleepover without us?” Tabby whisper sing songs, slipping into the room as the other girls trail behind her, “Wait, why are you crying on the floor? Don’t tell me there’s some new disaster. We can’t have any more disasters.”

Kurt and Kitty look at each other and dissolve into laughter, collapsing into each other and shaking their heads. 

“Critter, are you buck nekkid under that bathrobe?” Rogue asks.

“I just got out of the shower!” Kurt protests, “You want me to put on clothes all damp and wake up smelling like a dog?” 

“He’s right you know, I’m the one who has to sit next to him on the ride to school,” Kitty says and Kurt gives her a betrayed look, “What? Most of the time you smell good!”

Kurt glances at the other girls, holding his robe firmly shut as he stands and slinks over to his dresser, “I’m dry enough, I’ll make myself decent.” 

He doesn’t look back as he slips into the bathroom but hears the others whispering to each other as he goes. A hand catches the door before he can shut it and Tabby slips in after him. He stares at her wide eyed in the mirror. She winks.

“Tabby, my sister is outside, no,” He says softly and the girl snorts.

“No shit Blue,” She says, stepping closer, “You okay though? I feel like we walked in on something.”

Kurt looks down at his balled up sleep shirt and pajama pants, twisting them in his hands, he shrugs. Nods. Shakes his head. Okay doesn’t feel like the right word, but he doesn’t have any others to choose from. Tabby doesn’t say anything. She slides her arms around him, hot palms pressing against his chest as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you for asking,” He says after a pause that could have been one minute or five, “I should put on clothes now before they come knocking or one of the guys needs to pee.”

“I’m not stopping you,” Tabby says, wriggling closer against him. He prods her with his tail until she twists away, giggling. She comes in front of him where he can see her, hopping up on the bathroom counter. “Think we can get the others to do midnight breakfast?”

Kurt debates sliding on his pajama pants under his robe for a minute before discarding the idea. It isn’t anything Tabby hasn’t seen before and she’s never made him feel funny for being naked. He drops the robe to the floor and steps into his pants, haphazardly tying the draw string.

“I hope so, I’m starving again,” He says, wincing a bit as he tries to slide on his shirt but his injured shoulder protests.

“Here,” Tabby says, hopping down from the counter and holding out her hands. Kurt hesitates, tail flicking behind him before giving in. Today is just the day of people doing things for him apparently. He drops to a crouch and raises his arms as much as he can. Tabby slips his shirt on, tugging down the hem as he stands back up. “See, I even put it on the right way round for you.”

Kurt kisses her nose because he can, because he wants to see the way her face scrunches up as she smiles when he does, “Such service.” 

They step out of the bathroom to find Evan joined the group, the four of them are sprawled across Kurt’s bed, talking softly. 

“Auntie O was tired, so I figured I’d stay the night and hang with her a bit in the morning before heading out,” Evan says.

“You’re not worried about the Professor?” Kurt asks and Amara, Kitty and Rogue all giggle as Evan grins.

“Nah, I’ve got backup, Callisto was paying Auntie a visit,” Evan says and Tabby makes an “ohhh” behind Kurt.

“I don’t think your auntie was tired there, Spykie,” Tabby says, trotting over and belly flopping onto the bed beside Amara.

Evan snorts, “No shit, but I think we both liked that excuse better. Let them mind their business.”

“I’ll take having my roomie back for the night,” Kurt says, dropping onto the bed between Evan and his sister. The armored mutant grins at him, nudging Kurt’s leg with one socked foot.

“Good, because you didn’t have a choice,” He says, sticking out his tongue.

“So Kurt and I were talking in the bathroom,” Tabby says.

“Is that what they call it?” Kitty mumbles and Rogue swats her with a pillow.

“Who’s in favor of midnight breakfast?” Tabby continues, ignoring the pair. 

Evan strokes his chin, eyes considering the ceiling, “I could be swayed.” 

“I’m not on dish duty this time,” Rogue says, before turning to point a finger at Kitty, “And you, stop cooking everything on damn high, I don’t like crunchy pancakes.”

“Was the crunch the high heat or the granola,” Amara mutters, flinching and holding up her hands when Kitty turns to glare at her, “Love you, but you try some weird combinations, Kit Kat.” 

Kitty huffs, “I’m game if you all stop bullying me.” 

“That depends on if you put kale in my smoothie again,” Tabby says as they all climb off the bed and head for the door.

“It’s called green juice! It’s good for you,” Kitty argues.

“I think you’re supposed to cook it first,” Kurt says, pulling open the door and jumping when he sees Scott and Jean on the other side, Scott poised with one hand ready to knock.

“Oh cool, midnight breakfast, right?” Scott asks, and Kurt bites his lip to keep from laughing.

“Why does everyone come to my room?” Kurt asks, not really put out about it.

“You’re the fuzzy hub on this wheel, blue,” Evan says, thumping Kurt on the shoulder as they step out of the room.

Rogue hangs back as the others make their way down the dim hallway, hooking Kurt by the tail to keep him with her. He shoots her a questioning look, but she just stares at him, that waiting expression he knows she can keep up til he cracks. He sighs.

“It was about summer,” He whispers, flicking his eyes to where the others are halfway down the hall ahead of them.

Rogue grunts, threading her arm through his so he can’t catch up to them, “I figured.” 

“I couldn’t talk about it, not the summer, but before. Not really,” Kurt says. Rogue caught him barehanded when he was in a nightmare once, and saw enough of what happened with Blight to get the picture. Then this past July he’d filled in the blanks for her one night hiding way up in the big top, a few weeks after they’d caught him. She wasn’t as mad after that, though she still gave him an earful for porting after the man without backup, “But I think I said enough.”  

“Feeling alright?” She asks as they turn a corner. Ahead, the others are whispering together, piping up occasionally into a volume that might get them caught before someone hisses and they all quiet down. 

“I mean, in a jello kind of way? Wiggly but like, still solid,” Kurt says, shrugging. 

Rogue chuckles, “I think that’s the best any of us are gonna get after a week like this.” Her voice has that burnt coffee edge it used to carry all the time, back when she first moved into the mansion. Kurt squeezes her arm.

“What flavor are you?” He asks, looking at her sidelong. She tips her head up to the ceiling as she hums softly in her throat.

“Key lime, kinda sour, definitely artificial, but you’ll eat it all if it’s smeared in whipped cream,” She says, “You?”

Kurt considers, eyes drifting over the beige crown molding, “Off brand grape, you don’t really want it, but you’ll take it if it’s that or nothing.” 

They look at each other a minute, both aware that they’ve drifted into the realm of nonsense, but neither caring. 

“Shit, Amara, what in the hell?” Rogue says as the pair come up short, nearly tripping over the girl as the others are clustered right before the kitchen. Amara hisses at them waving her hand and pointing towards the open kitchen door. Kurt can make out the low murmurs of Logan and Dr. McCoy, playing over Ororo’s voice and another woman, Callisto. There’s the smell of heating oil, onions, and fresh meat. Kurt’s stomach growls and Scott shoots him a scolding look. The blue mutant holds out his hands, shrugging.

“Callisto, might I ask you to do the honorable task of keeping the patient in place?” Hank asks and the Morlock leader laughs. Ororo giggles in a way that Kurt’s never heard before. He glances at Evan and the other mutant’s face is caught somewhere between horrified and trying not to laugh. 

“Are they?” Rogue mouths, lips freezing as she struggles to finish the question. She gives up after a moment, opting instead to wiggle her hands in a way that makes Tabby giggle until Kitty covers her mouth.

Jean covers her face with her hands, making a near silent squeaking sound as she leans into Scott, “I…don’t know, but things feel very complicated from what they’re all thinking and I would rather not know these things.”

“You’re peeking?” Amara whispers, leaning forward with a grin and nearly knocking Tabby and Kitty over in the process.

Jean drops her hands, lunging forward to meet Amara in the middle of the hall, “Not on purpose! They’re so loud, I don’t think they’re, you know” Jean makes a face like she’s hesitant to say something about their teachers, “able to drive?”

“We know what alcohol is, Jean, you can just say they’re drunk,” Rogue whispers, lips twitching as she looks at the other girl.

Jean’s eyebrows scrunch together, “I don’t think this is drunk brain.”

“Well, we know what drugs are too,” Tabby whispers, snickering.

“We should leave before they notice us,” Scott says, pulling away from where he’d been leaning against the wall and the others make a mixed chorus of disappointment and agreement.

“But, I still wanted food though,” Kurt whines and his sister gives him a flat look.

“Then get in here and make yourselves useful,” Logan growls from the doorway nearly scaring them all out of their skin. 

“Mister Logan!” Kitty squeaks from where she’s dragged herself and Kurt halfway through the wall, along with Evan’s shoulder and Tabby’s arm.

“Kitty, I’m gonna get a crick in my neck like this,” Evan says, body twisted at an awkward angle from where Kurt is holding him. Kurt keeps his hold on Evan’s bicep, not wanting to subject the other teen to The Feeling. It doesn’t hurt if Kitty loses contact with you when you’re halfway through something, but it feels less like being stuck in a thing and more like being part of a thing in a way that’s very freaky.

“Right, my bad,” Kitty whispers, regaining her footing and dragging them all back fully into the hallway. 

“Professor Logan you startled us,” Jean says, slowly floating back down from the ceiling, as if they have not been caught eavesdropping on their teachers cooking at some time past midnight. 

“Then I need to have you run more stakeout drills,” Logan says where he’s leaning in the doorway whisking something in a plastic mixing bowl. Everyone except Evan and Tabby groan.

“Man, I do not miss those days,” Evan whispers and Tabby hisses back, “You’re telling me.”

“You coming in to cook or are you going back to your rooms?” Logan says, “Y’ain’t lollygagging in the hallway until you wake up every kid in the building though.” 

“McCoy, never get a job as a guardsman,” Wolverine grumbles as he waves them all into the kitchen. He ducks down to catch batter dripping off the whisk in the bowl before it can splatter on the kitchen tile. 

“This entire mansion smells like teenagers all the time,” The doctor calls over his shoulder from where he’s working at the stove, a slowness creeping into his usual dignified tone, “You want me to tell when that means they’re hiding like peeping toms or if they have simply abandoned their sweaty gym socks in the hall once again?”

“That was one time!” Kitty grumbles.

“Are we really that smelly?” Amara asks, and Logan, Kurt, and Hank all chime “Yes” in varying levels of resigned and amused.

Ororo and Callisto are seated in the kitchen table nook, well Callisto is seated on the bench while Ororo is in her lap, head resting on the other woman’s shoulder as Callisto slices potatoes and tosses them in a bowl of seasoning. Every few handfuls, Ororo shakes the bowl with a flick of her wrist, sending the potato slices somersaulting into the air and back down. 

Wolverine gives the woman a look and she eyes him right back.

“We agreed I’m allowed to do this much, mother hen,” She says and Logan grunts at her.

Rogue peers into the mixing bowl the short mutant is holding, “What’re you makin’ there, teach?” 

Logan clutches the bowl closer to his chest and the other adults in the room chuckle. 

“He’s making chocolate chip cookies,” Dr. McCoy says, dropping to a stage whisper as he leans over from where he’s been mashing what looks like tomatoes and onions up in a mortar and pestle.

“Man has a sweet tooth,” Ororo adds, giggling. Logan sticks out his tongue at her.

Kurt presses a hand to his chest, hiding the handful of chocolate chips he’d grabbed from the open bag that is spilling out onto the counter behind his back “Herr Logan, sweets at this hour?” 

The older mutant shoots him a look, but Kitty cuts him off before he can reply.

“Can you show me how you make them, Professor Logan? I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong,” She says, creeping up on the man’s other side. Logan gives her a sidelong look before pointing towards the counter with his chin.

“Well, might help if you stopped nuking the butter so long it fries your eggs by the time you add them,” He says, “Come on, I just finished creaming the sugar and butter, I’ll walk you through the rest.” They turn towards the counter, Rogue going along with them and Kurt switches his attention back to the kitchen table.

“Evan, Hank has some oil heating on the stove, show Scott how to fry these, please. Maybe then he’ll make his own instead of wiping out half my draining pieces thinking I won’t see,” Ororo says, holding up the bowl full of sliced potatoes to her nephew. Evan snickers as he takes it while Scott blusters apologies.

“I cut you more potatoes that time, Miss Monroe,” Scott says, ears red.

Ororo laughs, “I’m not mad, dear, but one day you won’t have your teacher’s plate to steal from, so I best do my job and show you how to do it yourself, and you can do your job to learn.”

“So why am I the one showing him how to fry?” Evan whines, but he’s already pulling the fry ladle out of the drawer and asking Jean to pull down the draining racks from the lower counter. Amara sets down some newspaper Tabby plucked from the recycling on the counter and Jean lowers the racks over it.

“Because you’ve been helping your mother since you were tall enough to sit on a stool and we could trust you wouldn’t get burnt,” Ororo says, “Also they allowed me to come down on the provision that I stay at the table.”

“Doctor’s orders,” Dr. McCoy says, sauntering over to the table and holding out the mortar, “How’s this coming? I want more lime and more chili, but I thought it best to consult the chef.”

Ororo swipes her pinky through the mixture and tastes it, nodding, “That and salt,” she glances around the kitchen now filled with teenagers, “Though we may need more than this now.” 

Hank sighs, eyes trailing hers, “True, though I admit I’m a bit bored of the smashing at this point.” 

“I can do it!” Jean offers, holding up her hand. The adults turn to her and she lowers it sheepishly, “I like to crush things. I mean, in a normal way, not like a demolition way.”

“You’d do great in construction with that power set,” Callisto says, “Take down a building in thirty seconds. Probably safer too.” 

Jean makes a face Kurt can’t quite interpret, something almost like wanting in the expression as she looks down at her hands, “I hadn’t considered that.” 

“Well, you’re welcome to practice on the pile of tomatoes and onions we have,” Hank says kindly as he hands her the mortar, “Providing Mr. Daniels does not eat them all before you can get to them.” 

Kurt glances over to the stove where Scott is standing, shoulders squared ladle in hand as he stares intently into a wok full of bubbling oil, Evan sitting beside him on a barstool, a large tomato wedge sticking out of his mouth and the bowl of potato slices balanced on his knees.

“Nephew, you don’t need to become a hamster, I’ll give you all the tomatoes you want to take home with you,” Ororo says, covering her mouth as she laughs warmly. 

Evan ducks his head, but he smiles as he shoves the rest of the tomato in his mouth, “Thanks, Auntie.”

Everyone drifts into their own tasks after that, Tabby and Amara flitting around washing things as they’re finished or retrieving ingredients. Kurt realizes that he doesn’t have anything to do, but he doesn’t want to sit on his hands at the table, especially since Ororo and Callisto appear to be in their own moment from the low whispers and eye contact. His eyes bounce over the others, but everyone seems absorbed in their own thing and any time he’s offered to help today the answer has been “go sit, go rest, we got it.”

“Kurt, could you help me with this?” Dr. McCoy calls from where he’s standing next to the grill inset into the countertop near where Jean is working.

Kurt hesitates. Logan turns away from where Rogue and Kitty are dumping what looks like chocolate chips and rainbow sprinkles into the cookie dough, “Make sure he doesn’t turn that shit into shoe leather, elf. My jaw doesn’t need the workout.” 

“You burn the steak once and are a bad cook for eternity,” Hank mutters as Kurt sidles up beside him, the older mutant hooks a tupperware full of flank steak in dark marinade and tugs it closer, “The grill is hot, do you mind getting this going while I pop some of the leftover chicken in the oven to warm up?” Neither Tabby or Kitty like beef much. Kurt grins at the other mutant, doubt over whether the doctor was just humoring him pushed away by the fact that he remembered the other’s preferences.

“Jawohl,” Kurt says, hopping up on the barstool as the man vacates it. There’s two cuts of meat in the container and the grill is just big enough when he spreads them out. He notices that the doctor has the temperature on high and glances guiltily over his shoulder as he lowers it down to medium. Jean catches his eye as he turns back around and they both laugh. She has tomato seeds splattered across one cheek and her sleeves keep sliding down from where they’re rolled up. After a moment of trying to push them back up against her side she looks at Kurt.

“Could you–?” She asks, wiggling her elbows in a half hearted chicken dance.

Kurt chuckles as he leans over and rolls up her nearest sleeve, folding it over and tucking it past her elbow so it’ll stay up. He holds out his hand and Jean sets down the pestle so she can swivel on her stool to offer him her other arm.

“You couldn’t, you know?” Kurt asks, waving his tail through the air and making a little “Wooooo” noise that they all use to mean “move shit with your brain.”

Jean snorts, the kind of noise she only makes when she’s not worried about who might hear, “I could, but they’ll slide back down in two minutes if I do it that way, and I’ll wind up with a headache as I keep mentally shoving them up every five minutes. So it seemed better just to ask for help when someone’s right here. Thank you.”

Kurt shrugs, leaning back into his workspace as he clicks the tongs in his hand. The meat doesn’t need turning just yet and he doesn’t have anything to do with himself.

“Considering Callisto’s entire job seems to be holding Storm in place, I think you aren’t the only one,” Jean says softly.

“How’s your migraine?” Kurt asks, albeit a little petulantly. His ears burn as Jean laughs, he knows she’d catch it even if she couldn’t read minds.

“It went away the morning after we got back,” She says, aiming at a chunk of onion that keeps slipping out from under her, “It’s still hard to filter everyone out though.”

Kurt’s shoulders hunch, he pokes a steak with the tongs, “That sounds exhausting.” 

“Yep,” Jean says, popping the p and grunting as the onion finally gives way, “Keeping my body busy helps. Pulls me back into being flesh, you know?” 

Kurt flips the meat and both he and Jean’s stomachs growl at the smell.

“Gotte, I’m hungry,” Kurt whines. He can technically eat the steak at this level of cooked, but knows the others won’t necessarily enjoy rare meat.

“I know,” Jean says, turning her head, “Hang on.” She looks over to where Evan’s laid out the chips to drain, pulling a plate from the cupboard with one hand as she floats a handful of the fried potatoes over to them. They wobble, hovering barely an inch above the counter as they cross the two foot distance between them and the stove.

“Jean, your head though,” Kurt whispers, placing a hand on her arm.

“It’s fine, it’s one trick, fries are worth a headache,” Jean hisses back, shaking him off.

“Are you guys for real?” Evan asks, catching them in the act right as Jean drops the fries into the waiting plate.

“You know you could have asked? We’re not monsters,” Scott says, “Ororo and Callisto already got a plate.” 

“Why can’t we cook them on the stove though?” Kitty asks, voice pulling the room’s attention.

Kitty and Logan face off with their arms crossed as they stare each other down. Just behind them, Rogue leans against the counter, swiping her finger through the cookie dough and popping it in her mouth, Tabby and Amara both edging their way over to her intent on getting their own taste.

“Kid, I agreed to sprinkles,” Logan says, “Cookies go in an oven, if they went on the stove they’d be pancakes.” 

“Perhaps an experiment is in order,” Doctor McCoy says, looking like he’s barely keeping the smile on his face from spreading into a full fanged grin, “Why don’t we attempt to make a single cookie on the stove and find out what happens?”

Logan gives Hank a deadpan look, but the taller man is close enough he needs to crane his neck. Hank continues to watch him eagerly as Kitty chants “pleasepleaseplease” over and over, until the shorter mutant groans and gives in. He points a finger in each of their faces.

“One,” He says, “You can make one cookie on the stove.”

“Thanks Mr. Logan!” Kitty chirps, darting in to hug him quickly before shoving a spoon into the dough and turning to plop it into the small frying pan Hank has set on the burner. The big mutant holds up his hand before she can.

“Perhaps we will have better luck allowing the pan to heat a few minutes before adding the cookie?” He asks.

“You also need to spray it, sugar,” Rogue adds, stepping up behind the other girl and spritzing the pan with cooking spray.

Kitty rolls her head back with a groan, “The stove is supposed to be faster than the oven and you’re telling me we have to wait?”

“We could try frying a cookie in the meantime?” Scott suggests and Logan shoots him a betrayed look.

Evan leans over to look at the cookie group from around Scott, “The man’s right, frying is fast and we haven’t shut the oil yet.”

Kitty whips around to look at Logan and the older mutant holds up his finger, “Fine. One on the stove and one fried.”

Only half the dough ends up in the oven.

The other half ends up on the stove (a single cookie, which Kurt is subjected to testing and ends up too burned on the outside and too raw on the inside), in the fryer (which Kurt gets to try first as an apology and turns out dense and cakey inside, crispy outside), or in the waffle iron, after Tabby yanks it from the cupboard and makes an enthusiastic case for a game Kurt’s pretty sure comes from the Brotherhood called, “Will it Waffle?” The answer is, yes, though the chocolate chips burn a bit. 

“My, I think it’s too late to be dinner prep, but I’d say far too early for breakfast,” A voice says from the doorway, and ice runs down Kurt’s back. Kitty fumbles the fork she was using to pry out the last cookie waffle and Logan catches it quietly and tugs the waffle out of the griddle for her. The kitchen falls silent as everyone looks to the Professor in the doorway. He’s dressed in the burgundy robe and old fashioned pajamas Kurt always expects to see him in come nightfall, one hand resting on the pushrims of his wheelchair as the other holds a book in his lap.

“A little midnight feast,” Doctor McCoy says, stepping more into the center of the room and a bit in front of where the teens are clumped around the kitchen counter.

“Care to join us, Charles?” Ororo asks, as if he’s caught them in the middle of a danger room demonstration.

The Professor smiles in that same closed mouthed way he always does, “Thank you, Ororo, but I think I’ll leave you to it.” He pats his stomach, “This old belly doesn’t take kindly to late night snacking anymore. Enjoy yourselves, but try not to stay up too late, it is a school night, after all.” 

“We’ll wrap it up soon, Chuck, don’t sweat it,” Logan says and the Professor nods.

“With a team like this, I never need to sweat,” He says, smiling at all of them. The expression is warm and the words feel genuine. Kurt doesn’t understand why they don’t feel good in his ears. “Good night, all, enjoy your meal and rest well.” 

“Goodnight professor,” The group chimes softly. He gives them a wave before wheeling away down the hallway.

Kurt sucks in a breath and lets it out, shaking himself a bit. He turns to where Scott is fiddling with the edge of his apron, looking around the kitchen with a pinched expression. Kurt tries to think of words to say, but nothing comes as the creeping fear that the other mutant will push them all to clean up and go to bed swallows him up. A calloused hand lands on his shoulder as the doctor gives Scott’s shoulder a squeeze, leaning down to murmur something to the teen.

“Relax, Elf, you lot won’t be the ones in trouble here,” Logan says, giving Kurt a lopsided smile.

Kurt’s tail thumps against their legs, “But why should anyone be in trouble at all?” He’s a little louder than he means to be and sounds like a child to his own ears, like one of the adults has caught him sneaking cotton candy from the snack tent during a late night show.

“No one should be in trouble and no one will be,” Ororo says, in that firm way she has that makes it feel like she’s calling law into being, “The food is made and the dishes already done, we have nothing more to do than eat, come sit.”

“I may be a philosopher, but not even I will argue with a goddess,” McCoy says, winking at Kurt as he picks up the plate of chicken and a stack of flatbread and carries it to the table. Jean and Scott lean against each other a moment before picking up the salsa and potatoes and following their teacher. Evan and the girls grab the platters of various cookie experiments, so Kurt grabs the steak before taking the rear.

Ororo tears off a piece of flatbread and tosses it at the older blue mutant. He catches it in his mouth and grins at her, unrepentant. 

“Is there anyone who won’t eat right from your hand if you let them,” Callisto asks, so low that Kurt’s certain she didn’t intend for anyone else to hear. He flushes under his fur and looks away only to lock eyes with Jean, who shares his own flustered expression. They both laugh.

The bubble of tension that settled over them doesn’t shatter, but dissolves over the course of the meal. The food is rich and wonderful and no one bothers with silverware, tearing meat from the bone and mopping sauce up with the fries. Kurt’s eyelids are heavy by the time they’ve wiped the last trace of food from the plates. Evan is slumped against him on one side and Rogue leans on him from the other.

“Bed,” Logan says, waving them through the doorway the same way he waved them in. They hesitate, glancing at the dirty dishes.

“Let the grownups take care of it,” Callisto says, Ororo sliding off her lap to lean against Logan instead. She and Hank begin stacking the plates, swatting at the teens hands as they reach for them.

“I think we can handle a few dishes,” Hank says, “Fly, into the arms of dreams.”

“I can never tell if you’re quoting something or just like this,” Amara says as she stands and stretches with the others.

“Join the club kid,” Logan says as he tucks his arm around Ororo’s waist. The taller woman rests her chin atop his head as she smiles at them.

“Goodnight, dears,” She says.

They’re slow on the way back to the dorms, stomachs full and bodies heavy with the late hour. Instead of splitting off at the stairs, the girls follow Evan, Scott, and Kurt back to Kurt’s room, opting to disappear up through Kurt’s ceiling into Kitty’s room instead. Rogue goes last, hugging her brother before taking Kitty’s outstretched hand and pushing off of Kurt’s cupped palms with a socked foot and climbing up through the ceiling.

The boys stare up after them for a moment, Scott with his hands on his hips, Evan and Kurt leaning on each other.

“Brush our teeth and pass out?” Scott asks, quietly clapping his hands together as he looks at the other two, who nod.

“Brush our teeth and pass out,” Kurt and Evan say, pushing off each other and shuffling to the bathroom.

“What’s got your tail, man?” Evan says as they’re brushing their teeth. He’d been quiet a moment when they’d stepped into the bathroom and Kurt had pulled his old toothbrush, lime green with a little hedgehog bristle protector, from one of the drawers. 

“Vas?” Kurt asks, the word distorted by a mouth full of toothpaste. He aims for innocent confusion and landing more on “panicked.”

Scott spits before speaking, rinsing his mouth out, “Seriously, dude, there was something weird there at the end today, did you and Todd have a fight?” Scott asks and Kurt shakes his head.

“No, it wasn’t that,” He says, putting his toothbrush back and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after spitting.

“But you and Kitty did, but now you’re cool, but you’re still upset and you’re gonna do your little sad sigh thing all night, so come on man, I missed you, but I have not missed that,” Evan says as the three step back into the bedroom.

“I will not take this from the guy who takes hour-long heavy metal angst showers,” Kurt says, crossing his arms as he drops down onto the bed.

“Look, the bathroom has the best acoustics and rain doesn’t show up on command just because the mood calls for it,” Evan says, waving his hands as he drops down beside Kurt.

“Guys,” Scott says, holding out his hands, “So you didn’t fight with Todd, you’re not fighting with Kitty, but you are still doing the little ‘hiss hiss kitten is upset’ thing. So what’s up?” 

Kurt gives Scott a long sulking look, “This is revenge for the comment about your Simon and Garfunkel habits, isn’t it?”

“We’ve established each of us has our own special way of dealing with the feelings we’d rather be able to pull out of our brains and slam into the garbage can,” Scott says, pressing his hands together as he settles on the bed, “now are you gonna keep doing your ‘I am the darkness’ vibe thing or come talk to us?”

“Kitty thinks I should tell Todd about the summer,” Kurt says, picking at the bedspread.

“The horny summer or the punchy summer?” Evan asks.

“He knows about horny summer,” Kurt says, hands and tail weaving through the air, “and kinda about punchy summer, but he doesn’t know about The Thing,”

“You mean your vengeance quest that apparently scared the shit out of Kitty and Rogue and you left two of your best American bros out of?” Evan asks, gesturing back and forth between him and Scott, “Three if you count Forge, four if we’re adding Tabby.”

“Of course I count Forge und Tabby!” Kurt says, offended before it clicks that maybe this is not the circumstance where he wants to make the list of important people longer. 

“You’re scared to tell him,” Scott says quietly.

“We don’t talk about that stuff! I don’t know anything about his life before here,” Kurt says, the sentence falling back to hit him hard in the stomach, he sits up, “Mein gotte, I don’t know about his life before we met. I’ve hardly told him anything about mine.” 

“Hey hey, this is a good thing though, it sounds like you want to know that stuff,” Scott says, setting a hand on Kurt’s back.

“We’ve been dating for months, and I don’t even know what he did for fourteen years other than dance sometimes and live in Brooklyn,” Kurt says, scrunching his hands in his hair. Even for a pretend boyfriend that feels like a mess. Who doesn’t know that kind of stuff about their boyfriend? When here he is, talking about the circus, talking about home, and not even thinking about it.

“Fuzz, buddy, don’t worry, there’s a cool trick for this,” Evan says, “It’s called asking him. Be like, ‘hey, what’d you like about Brooklyn? Where’d you used to hang out?’ Bam, there you go.” 

Kurt wraps his tail around his knees, “What if he doesn’t want to tell me?” 

There’s a pause where he’s pretty sure Scott and Evan are having a face conversation behind him. 

Scott leans forward so he’s in Kurt’s line of sight, “What’s that thing you always tell me?”

Kurt huffs a laugh, “Take a chill pill?”

“Don’t borrow trouble,” Scott says, flicking Kurt’s hair into his face, “You don’t know what Todd wants because this is new territory. Don’t hurt yourself by jumping to the scariest option. 

“Besides man, pretty sure froggy likes you real bad,” Evan says, voice taking on that smug knowing tone he gets that usually means Kurt will argue with him just for the sake of it, even though the other mutant’s right.

“You mean that in the good way, right?” He asks, resting his cheek on his knee so he can look at Evan.

“You didn’t see the heart eyes he gave you when you passed out on his shoulder in the car,” Scott says, “The only other times I’ve seen him look anything like that were for cash, food, or that period where he had a thing for Wanda. And yeah, it’s not like he and I are pals hanging out, but I don’t think he makes that face for anybody.”

“You also didn’t see the daggers me and Forge got when we came to join your little blanket party,” Evan says, “Sorry for the cockblock by the way.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes, “I don’t think it counts as a cockblock if we’re on the communal blanket.” He sighs, flopping back on the bed, “Thank you, herr doctors, I will post you payment for your consultation. We sleep now.” 

“Anytime, fuzzy dude, you got this, you’re good at the people talk thing,” Evan says, “Now budge over, I need to claim some of the sheets before Scott gets them all.”

“How do you–we’ve never even shared a bed!” Scott says, before looking at Kurt, “You, my own friend, accuse me of sheet theft?” 

“Mein freund, if I wake up cold, ass to the wind three nights in a row while you are wrapped up like a little sausage, I think the evidence stands,” Kurt says, helping Evan pull back the sheets as the three of them wriggle under the covers. They’re too big for this really, at least in Kurt’s little double bed, but none of them mention it as they overlap shoulders like fallen dominoes. Kurt’s still worried, still afraid, but the fear feels distant, as if he’s left it tucked away in another room, held away by the soft sound of his friends’ slow breathing.

Chapter Text

Todd hesitates perched atop the crumbling brick wall that circles the back of the X-Geek mansion. He shouldn’t stop here, not with short and sour undoubtedly prowling the grounds but he can’t get himself to jump. 

“He said I could come,” Todd hisses to himself, voice barely above a whisper. 

He’s snuck onto the grounds countless times since that first, terrifying night Mystique sent him here for a thing baldy cut a precise hole in his memories over. Most of those times were to yank the furball’s tail when his skin started to crawl, but each time was to prove to himself that he could do it. That the hazy memories of lightning and lasers and cutco knife claws weren’t enough to scare him away.

But tonight he hesitates.

He and Kurt had hardly gotten a moment alone this week. The X-Geeks who’d gone on the mission were apparently on unspoken “school only, then home” orders for the week, particularly everyone who’d bounced over to the Brotherhood house that night. Especially Kurt, who was already kind of grounded. If they were gonna have whatever secret meeting Kurt planned tomorrow, they needed to keep their shirts starched and their toes in line Kurt had explained over lunch one day. 

Which wouldn’t be too bad, except Todd could feel whatever unspoken thing Kurt had in the back of his throat condensing around the two of them like a fog the more time passed. 

And Todd found that he cared. That the fog between them sent fear scurrying in the back of his head at the thought of whatever this was between him and Kurt dissolving without him fully understanding what unraveled it. So when the blue mutant had cursed when the bell rung right after he’d pulled Todd aside today and said, “I want you to know this before everyone else finds out about it” Todd found himself interrupting Kurt’s frantic planning aloud to say that he’d just come see him that night. 

Kurt had dropped his hands from where they were mussing his hair to stare at Todd, eyes wide as he studied Todd’s face, searching for something. He’d nodded, absently before shaking himself a bit and nodding more firmly, saying he’d like that, if Todd was okay with it. Todd had given him a shove, saying he wouldn’t have offered if he wasn’t willing.

Now, Todd sucks in a deep breath and hops down from the garden wall, taking the overgrown path he knows will lead him right to the blue mutant’s balcony.

Kurt’s been rearranging things in his room for the last hour. He spent the first hour after dinner sweeping back and forth across the space, picking up everything in his path and sorting it into piles. Dirty clothes here. Kinda clean clothes there. Almost certainly clean clothes over there. Candy wrappers here. Snacks to be eaten there. Books over here, English in one pile, German in the other.

Todd would probably be here soon.

As soon as the other mutant offered to come by and Kurt found himself saying “yes” a new worry had leapfrogged over the growing pile of worries about tomorrow.

His (fake, Kurt, fake, Todd’s not your real boyfriend, you’re both pretending, it’s normal) boyfriend was going to see his room for the first time.

Well, for the first time that he wasn’t there to trash it, anyway. 

It shouldn't matter. Kurt had seen Todd's room a few times now. Glimpses through the window picking him up, putting him to bed the night after the Brotherhood mission, brief stopovers when they were going to hang out on the roof. The walls were covered in graffiti, in posters with corners torn from repeated thumb tacking. Most of Todd's floorspace was taken up by towers of stuff Kurt suspected Todd had salvaged from his various under the table jobs and dumpster diving. 

It isn't like Todd will judge him for being cluttered, but as he looks around his room's beige walls, the few posters he has feel sorely lacking. The confines of his American life at the mansion feel so small and plain despite this room being twice the size of his space back home. He doesn't know which life might seem more embarrassing. The loud chaotic circus or this orderly timid existence. 

A thump on the balcony startles him out of his fretting. Kurt jumps, knocking over the little menagerie of action figures and knick knacks on his desk he'd been rearranging to fight the urge to sweep them all in a drawer, erasing this little collection of his life from sight. 

"Coming," he calls, keeping his voice low, rescuing his knock off Captain America figurine that one of his uncles had painted to be a tattooed man from the trash can, setting him back down next to the rabbit skull he's been carving as a gift for Rogue's birthday. 

He pulls open the balcony to find Todd crouched low on the other side, shifting his weight side to side as he scans the grounds over his shoulder. Todd jumps, overbalancing. Kurt catches his arm before the other mutant can fall.

"Hallo," he says, smiling. 

"Hey," Todd says, grinning back crookedly, "you sure this is okay?" 

Kurt nods, "Herr professor always has some kind of off grounds standing dinner this time of the month. He'll be back late, so it's just the other teachers." 

"What the hell does that guy do for a night out on the town," Todd asks, voice low like the question is for himself.

Kurt shrugs, waving Todd in as he quietly shuts the door behind him, "Honestly I figured he's on a date with your boss."

Todd freezes, half turning to look at Kurt. He blinks, opening his mouth before shaking his head, "I don't even wanna consider what that guy does in his free time." 

Kurt hums in agreement, waving Todd over to the bed when he realizes the other mutant's lingering in the center of his room because he isn't sure where to go. 

Todd could hop the distance to Kurt's bed, but despite the number of times he's been here to short sheet the thing, flip it up against the wall and on one occasion manage to stick it to the ceiling, suddenly it feels forbidden to approach. Too intimate.

So he walks, slouching the six feet path there like he isn't having some existential crisis because he's never been on a boyfriend's bed before. Hell, he's never had someone commit to a word like boyfriend before, if he's honest. 

Except Kurt's not his boyfriend, really.

Todd drops heavier onto the bed than he meant to at that thought and Kurt bounces a bit where he's come to perch on the corner of the mattress, up by the pillows.

Kurt makes a little "oop" sound as he rights himself, shifting his feet beneath him in that little gargoyle crouch he does. But the bed gives too much and he keeps wobbling. He finally gives up, plunking down on his ass with a huff.

Since Kurt was merciful enough not to mention Todd meandering towards his bed like a sleepwalking turtle, Todd acts as if the other mutant hasn't forgotten how sitting works. Instead he looks over Kurt's room, plucking up the little elements of the blue mutant's personality layered over the beige Haus of Egghead aesthetic. There's a menagerie of action figures, the paint on them the wrong colors even by the watery light of the moon.

"You guys have the avengers in Germany?" Todd asks and Kurt snorts.

It's a diversion, but suddenly the vulnerability of admitting he has custom painted action figures of his circus family that he asks for advice when he doesn't feel brave enough to call home and say he's stuck yet, feels like hopping down a stair versus the cliff dive he's been hanging onto for weeks.

"Ja, though those were knock off models," he hops over to the desk, scooping up the ones for his parents and his godparents, he brings them back to Todd, "My uncles painted them for my fifth birthday. When I first came here, I didn't pack them." 

Todd glances at him as he takes the toys gently running his thumbs over the flaking paint. 

Kurt shrugs, "They were baby things, you know. I was already strange enough, I did not want any more fodder in case my American classmates were not so welcoming."

"So you shacked up with hedgehog and realized you existed in the place beyond shame?" Todd asks.

Kurt snorts, "Yes, but no." He runs his hands over the glittery purple sleeve of his mother's acrobatic unitard, feeling the smooth patches from years of wear, "I got here and they were rolled up in my sweater, with a note from my mom, 'let them watch over you in our stead.'"

Something goes tight in Todd's chest. He remembers his mom's hands on his cheeks, gentle on a rare day where a hundred things hadn't unspun her patience, "I can't be here as much as I should to watch out for you. But that's why I'm so hard, you carry my heart with you wherever you go. It's wrapped around yours. I want you to be strong enough to protect them both."

Todd sucks in a breath, blinks til his eyes stop burning, "Bet you bawled like a baby." 

"Oh snot running down my face and everything," Kurt says. He taps the figurines, each in turn, "Mum's an aerialist, und so is my Uncle Obo. Vati's a tattooed strongman, they've all known each other since they were a year older than us." 

Todd looks down into the nondescript plastic faces in his lap, "Well, didn't realize I'd meet your folks tonight. I would have ironed my shirt." 

Kurt snorts, shoving Todd and the shorter mutant rolls with it, going boneless the way he's gotten in the habit of when they play like this. He face plants into Kurt's pillow. His heart skips a beat at the smell of Kurt's shampoo and the musk of his fur filling his lungs. He shoots back upright. Forehead slamming directly into Kurt's chin.

"Must every family meeting where we both are involved end in violence?" Kurt asks from where he's crouched on the floor. The hand on his chin slides to his mouth, and Todd laughs harder at how wide those gold eyes can get.

"Hey that was unruly intent, this was recklessness, different charges man," Todd says, "You good?" 

"Oh ja, I was thinking I had too many teeth anyhow," Kurt says, running his hand over Todd's forehead, "You?" 

"Yeah," Todd swallows, thoughts careening into each other, tires screeching "wanna talk?"

Kurt's face goes numb, and he has to think about not yanking his hand away from Todd's forehead. He opens his mouth, closes it, then nods.

"Shit, dawg, you ain't actually with the mob, are you?" Todd asks.

Kurt laughs, shakes his head, frustration welling up as all the ways he rehearsed to explain this clatter into each other, falling like lines on an etch-a-sketch. 

He wants to start at the end, not the beginning.

"I did something bad," Kurt says.

"Whatever it was Kitty wanted me to know?" Todd asks. Kurt nods, head jerking as if on a string and Todd holds out a hand, "You don't have to tell me."

"I want to!" Kurt says, loud in a way that makes him jump and hunch in on himself, repeating in an too soft whisper, "I want to though."

Something tender opens in Todd's chest, unfurling towards that confession like a flower to the sun.

It rots just as fast. A flinty little voice whispering, "You're happy he wants to tell you his bad shit? Like him hurting in front of you?" 

It's not true, but it hits trueish enough that Todd's scrambling to slam a lid on the oily midnight thoughts that keep him up late in the night before they can suck him under.

He's here for Kurt.

"Blue, can't be any worse than the shit I've done because I was bored on Tuesday," Todd drawls leaning back on his elbow with the lazy grin that used to have Kurt diving up to the top of the bleachers to grab him. 

Kurt doesn't laugh. Or sneer. His face crumples like a fallen leaf. 

"Wanna both lie on the floor and look at the ceiling?" Todd asks and Kurt stares at him like he's suggested wearing their underwear inside out will shield them from telepaths.

Todd shrugs, "It's how we first started talking about deep shit at the house. Makes it easier if you don't have to look at each other, y'know?" 

They started calling it "floor time." The first time, like many things, was an accident of chance. The Brotherhood were sprawled on the cool kitchen tiles after a sweltering summer mission. Todd didn't remember who spoke first. But it didn't matter. Soon none of them could shut up. They'd been up past three, spitting out all the little thorns and rocks and "keep your mouth shuts" they had. 

From that night on, they started asking each other for it. "Hey, can I get some floor time?", "The floorening hour is upon me, man, come with?", "The floor, she beckons me, can you hear her siren call?" 

Something about getting down low, not needing to look each other in the eye, made the big shit small enough to spit it out, let it hang in the air like clouds above them. Their words bumping up against each other in ways that let them fade from bright bruises to something more manageable.

Kurt stares at him a moment before drawing in a deep breath, "Fuck it, let's floor it."

Todd laughs, "See you're getting it." He steps to where the moon cuts a rectangle across the plush maroon carpet. 

Todd toes off his shoes, kicking them up against the wall before dropping to the floor. He glances over to where Kurt stands watching him, nearly invisible in the dark. 

"Should we be like, touching distance or not touching distance?" Kurt flounders and Todd slaps the rug.

"Just pull up some shag, however near or far from me will help you remember how to do basic things like sitting and stop thinking on it too much, blueberry." Todd says.

Kurt gives him a sulky look and sinks down to his knees like he's melting.

Kurt flops face first from his knees onto the floor and lies there for a beat, staring into the dusty upholstered dark of the shampooed carpet. He wonders if the shampoo can make Todd sick if it was last done a month ago. 

He considers it, turns his head to glance over at Todd, "The rugs here---" 

"Only give me a rash on the week after the first Saturday of every quarter," Todd drawls. 

Kurt stares up at him, "You’ve memorized the schedule. I never knew there were such methods to your chaos."

Todd rolls his hand in the air, "I'm deeper than the earth's core, baby." 

He leans over, laying down the action figures Kurt hadn't realized he'd carried over by Kurt's face.

"They are joining us?" Kurt asks.

"Solidarity, yo. Sometimes your role in floor time is to chill," Todd says.

He throws himself on his back, arms flung wide so one bony wrist hits Kurt's ankle, "Roll over and speak to the almighty ceiling spackle." 

Kurt sighs to the ceiling as he turns. 

How does he say this? When he cannot make sense of it himself? When he wants it to have some meaning or purpose, but anything he pins to it slides right off. 

The ceiling's brush stroked face stares back, silent. He glances to the side, catches the tiny profiles cast in flaking paint. There’s a hand on his ankle, draped loose like a cat’s tail.

Kurt shuts his eyes.

"I have a weird scar all over one arm because this summer I wanted to stop the mutant that sold me to a freakshow when I was twelve so badly that I didn't care I was fighting someone with light powers on front of a boat's blaring floodlights," Kurt says, "I might have killed him, if the others were slower." 

The words roll out of his mouth like ball bearings, hitting the carpet lightly, as if they haven't haunted his dreams for years. As if that scar was the first, not the newest addition to an old menagerie dealt by hands that saw him as a meal ticket.  As if he doesn’t feel the walls close in when everyone turns to stare in the hallway at school. As if he hadn't spent three years chasing a car he thought would seal up the hole it left in his heart when it first drove through. Only to find that catching it saved more kids from having his fate, but didn't take away the ache.

"Shame they didn't stop to tie their shoes then," Todd says. Kurt stops. Craning his neck to look at Todd. Todd stares back, "I said what I said. Go on, dawg."

Kurt turns his eyes back to the ceiling. He can see that moment, the hard shadows the boat lights cast across the weathered lines of Blight’s pale face. There’s the thunder of footsteps, Rogue and Kitty coming to stop him, Core and the others coming to help finish it. Kurt blinks, shakes his head and breathes in, letting the stale carpet shampoo clear out the phantom scent of saltwater. He catches a whiff of vinegar and potato and remembers the bag of potato chips he still hasn’t rescued from behind the bed. Hopefully Todd doesn’t notice them.

"I found him because I've been running around as a mutant vigilante with a bunch of other teenage mutants all over Europe," Kurt says, "Six of us met by ending up in the same freakshow." 

"Why does summer you get to have the dope hobby?" Todd asks.

"Do you always offer such commentary in floor time?" Kurt replies.

"Depends on what kind of crying is happening," Todd says, his fingers curling loose around Kurt's ankle. They tap a rhythm, soft and loose.

Kurt hums, falling quiet for a moment. It was a dope hobby. He felt freer, careening over the rooftops and running strategy meetings informed by data they’d pulled from behind some douchebag’s teeth and off forums. The summers gave Kurt something to grab onto, a purpose. They would catch Blight, the only one of the traffickers to get loose after their parents found them—

–and then what?

"I wanted it to feel better," Kurt says.

Todd doesn't answer, save a slight pause in the rhythm he's drumming on Kurt's ankle.

"I thought if I caught Blight, I don't know, I'd stop flinching when trucks backfire, that turtlenecks wouldn't make me panic because they feel like collars. I thought," Kurt trails off. What did he think? Really, how was he kidding himself with this. Like the months he was away from his family could all be undone. That the memories of pointing and stares and laughter from the other side of electric bars would dissolve into smoke?

He snorts, barely a laugh. Scrubs his hands over his face.

“I dunno, I thought it’d be better,” Kurt says. He leaves ‘I thought it would fix me’ unspoken. 

The rustle of wind through the trees drifts through the open window, filling the silence Kurt’s too big too small story leaves in its wake.

“I had to leave New York because this girl, who was kinda a creep now that I think about it, reeled me in to do errands for her wanna be crimelord dad and he tried to waste me when I found out the wrong kinda details,” Todd says, “It’s how I ended up in Bayville.” 

Kurt fights the urge to sit up and stare at Todd. Floor time means not having eyes on you so you can speak. He runs his tail over Todd’s fingers.

Todd’s not sure what the fuck he’s doing. He can’t guess how deep the ocean between the lines is in Kurt’s story, but “sold me to a freakshow” implies it probably goes down far enough to start getting the freaky fish that live without ever seeing the sun. 

There’s not really a comfort for that. Not an absolution. It just is. 

So Todd’s mouth runs away from him. Like it always does. 

“Vicki saw me drain a subway ticket machine of all its cash and then rewire it to fill up people’s passes without charging them one day. Those things are old, it’s not like the software they run on is complicated. But she called me smart. Said I was funny, that her dad could use help from someone like me. I was thirteen, she was pretty. That was enough.” Todd says, letting the words roll out of him as the phantom humidity of that old subway station laps at the back of his neck.

Todd swallows. Some days he wonders how much better he’d be off if he’d met Gina first, gotten down to alphabet street and into the arms of queens and queers who helped him with his history papers and fussed when he didn’t brush his hair. Gina who was only two years older than him. Gina who took the first time his awkward baby ass made a pass at her and flicked him in the nose with her acrylics, telling him he needed to watch his mouth better if he wanted any girls to like him.

Vicki wasn’t much older than Gina. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time. He felt grown up, that she’d tease him, “If you’re fast enough with this run Todd, maybe there will be a kiss in it for you.” He never did figure out how fast he needed to be to get that kiss. Now he’s grateful for it. 

Kurt’s tail wraps softly around the wrist Todd has draped over the blue mutant’s leg. The spade slips under Todd’s wrist cuff and presses flat to the cool inside of Todd’s arm. Todd takes a breath, ruffles velvet fur under his thumb. 

“After about a year of this, this asshole, he flips shit, gets real paranoid saying I know too much about his stuff now, that I need to show I’m loyal or he’s gonna waste me,” Todd says, “He wants me to kill some guy’s pets. A dealer. I’d been keeping tabs on this dude for the old fuck for months. The guy’s got the pitbull typecasting–everyone thinks he’s scary but he’s the beefiest teddy bear. This guy had three cats, strays he’d picked up and treated like royalty. Real friendly too, I’d pet them a couple times when they caught me on the fire escape. Anyway, he caught the old man cutting his supply and rather than pick a fight, he just says, ‘I ain’t buying from you anymore.’ Really, pretty chill move on his end. But, Vicki’s dad wasn’t here for it.” Todd can’t get himself to pause or slow down now that he’s started, his breath catching on the end of every sentence, “He throws me this bag and it rattles. Rat poison. Like something out of an old movie, big X’s on it and everything. Tells me in so many words, to get his shit back and poison the dude’s cats. Or else.”

Todd doesn’t mention that the or else was delivered via a pistol shot to the plaster by his head, or that the sound of someone slamming on stapler scared the shit out of him for a year after that, the way it clacked just like the silencer on the old bastard’s gun. But his voice breaks on the last two words and Kurt’s tail presses a little firmer against him.

Kurt sucks in a breath somewhere by Todd’s feet and the amphibious mutant snorts, waving a hand in the air, “Right?” 

“What’d you do?” Kurt asks, sitting up on his elbows to look at Todd with wide eyes. He catches himself, waving his hands like his words are so much smoke, “Nevermind, you don’t have to–”

“I told the dealer what was up. Gave him the rat poison, and all the hard drives worth of shit I’d been pulling for Vicki’s dad. Shocked the shit out of the guy. He thought I was a street kid,” Todd says, “Turns out I hadn’t been as sneaky as I thought. Guy saw me feeding Boyardee and Bowser sardines out of a tin one day and had been keeping tabs on me. Felt lucky he didn’t decide to waste me himself when I told him who I was working for. Got me a greyhound ticket and told me to get the hell out of town before things got hot instead.” 

“Left my mom a letter. She was hardly home much, between double shifts and staying over her boyfriend’s. Dropped a note to the queens I’d been hanging out with. Didn’t get to say bye to my friends, they thought Vicki’d killed me herself, til I showed up again two summers back to see how things were,” Todd says.

“What happened to her? Und her dad?” Kurt asks.

Todd shrugs, “Heard she got sent upstate to live with her ma. Her dad got the shit kicked out of him and basically everyone he had me dig up dirt on blackballed him. Heard he was serving time for gambling under the table. Dealer’s doing good though. Got himself another cat. Funds a program for kids to read to animals at the neighborhood shelter.”

"With the drug money?" Kurt asks, sitting up to look over at Todd.

"No, he was a prosecution lawyer on the side, then it got too unethical for him, yo," Todd drawls, tilting his head to level a flat look at the other mutant, "Yeah with the drug money and money from whatever the fuck his legit job was. Look, dawg, not everyone selling dime bags and molly is an asshole trying to make an empire. Some people are there to give folks what they're looking for in a reliable way so they can keep their lights on and get their granny her dialysis appointments." 

Kurt looks back to the ceiling, his face burning. He knows how his own life might look, with the details smudged away by sweeping brush strokes. But he still finds it in himself to gasp at someone else’s choices. Todd’s hand has gone still against his ankle. Kurt’s stomach sinks. If Kurt balked at a man helping children read because of where he got the money, how must Todd think Kurt sees him? How much does he regret opening his mouth?

Kurt glances over at the miniature profiles beside him. If they have any answers about how to unswallow his foot, they keep their own counsel.

"How's his granny?" Kurt asks, shifting so his forearm rests against Todd’s shin.

"She's pretty cool,” Todd says after a long pause that sent Kurt’s heart back in his throat, “Kept trying to pay me to bring her candy. Kept having to sneak the cash back in her purse and tell her the bodega shopkeeper was out," There’s the soft rasp of Todd shifting against the carpet, "What happened to Lite Bright the Bitch?" 

Kurt bursts into startled laughter. The sound dies too quickly in his throat like an echo in a tunnel.

"I...don't know. There's a network of European mutant groups and their families back home. They're used to doing things under the table, including stuff like that,” Kurt says, “We don’t know what they did with him.”

"So what, they just told you to keep out of it for plausible deniability?” Todd asks, incredulous.

"They want him alive. I didn't know if I could be trusted. I thought my parents would want to know, but it turns out they thought it best not to either," Kurt says, scarcely louder than the wind through the trees outside. 

“How are your queens?” Kurt asks, curling in on his side so he can look over at Todd. He’s all gilded edged shadows in the moonlight. Todd studies them to try not to sink into the softness growing in his chest that Kurt would even ask him that. Todd tries not to get caught on the ridge of a furred cheek and ends up falling into the valley of Kurt’s parted lips instead. 

The high and heavy in the sky. He should probably get home soon.

“They’re getting by. I got a friend, Gina, I still talk with pretty often. She’s training to be an electrician, got enough roommates to afford a decent place between the three of them,” He says, clearing his throat.

There’s the sound of a car pulling up in the distance, the murmur of tires over gravel and both their eyes widen.

“I thought we’d have more time,” Kurt says, sitting up and lifting the face down alarm clock on his nightstand. “11:45” blinks back at them. Todd sucks his teeth as Kurt softly curses. 

“I can probably make it off sight without baldy catching me,” Todd says, mostly keeping how much he wants to stay a little longer out of his voice. 

Kurt’s tail flickers, a distracted look in his eyes as he sweeps the room, “Ja, he’s usually less attentive on nights like this. It’s why Lance usually picks these nights to sneak in.” Kurt’s mouth clamps shut a moment too late as he looks guiltily at Todd.

“Dawg, that ain’t a secret in the Brotherhood house,” Todd drawls. He’d been the one to paste a “Missing: Have you seen this boy?” ad to their milk carton that one week Lance skipped out of the house three nights in a row when the Egghead had been off somewhere on business. The only reason he hadn’t done it the entire week was the Wolverine caught him the third night and said he’d need to go back to his old room if he was planning to rejoin the mansion. 

Kurt makes a weird face, like someone’s trod on his foot on a crowded train right as the car lurches into motion before he shakes himself.

“You good?” Todd asks and Kurt sighs, shaking off the unsettling feeling of the professor’s mind fumbling over his own like a passing hand checking if he’s still bed.

“Jah, you didn’t feel anything?” He asks. Todd shakes his head, “Good, that means the professor probably hasn’t noticed you. You’ll only have to avoid Herr Logan if he’s still up.” 

Todd’s expression sours, “That a regular thing?” 

Kurt shrugs, “It’s random. But he’s more likely to do it if he’s been out all night, and usually he’s,” Kurt waves his hand in the air, “Clumsier? Easier to notice?”

“So the telepath mind stumbles when he’s drunk, cool, cool, cool,” Todd says.  

“Yeah, you know, it’s like living with Santa Claus, if Santa threw giant blades at you to test if you were good,” Kurt says, trying to keep his voice light but failing to cut out the edge of hysteria he feels. 

“Gotta say, dunno at this point if I should be impressed with your loyalty or hearing alarm bells that you haven’t kept your ass in Europe,” Todd says and Kurt busts out laughing.

“Could you not return to New York and your life of fabulous balls?” Kurt asks.

“What does your Euro ass know about balls, fool?” Todd replies, rolling on his side to look at Kurt. His grin peeks out from where his face is tucked in the crook of his arm. Kurt wants to find the exact right thing to say to coax that expression all the way out into the moonlight.

“Just what an old VHS that I almost wore out told me,” Kurt says, “My godmother is a choreographer in New York. But she has a flat back in France. There was a video in a trunk of old tapes she had. It talked about the different families people make. I thought they were all glamorous and daring, taking over buildings and turning fashion nightmares into dreams.” 

Todd’s chest aches as he remembers the smell of musk perfume and hot food drifting over the wet staleness of old buildings and the must drifting off salvaged bolts of fabric lifted from the garment district. 

As a kid he’d thought Simone and the older queens were legitimate royalty, the modern day descendants of pirates who’d built their empires out of swindling rich fucks out of their money. The years with the Brotherhood, in a house on the edge of tumbling down around their ears in a strong wind, made him appreciate just how clever and defiant everyone in Gina’s building had to be to even come off as living halfway comfortable. 

“We could go to a ball sometime,” Todd says, the words falling out of his mouth before he even thinks about logistics. He’s too caught up in the fantasy of getting to see the wonder he felt at his first ball bloom on Kurt’s face, at getting to smear himself in glitter and the one makeup brand that doesn’t give him hives and sit arm and arm with the version of Kurt that roams far away streets when the days run long and the nights run hot. 

Kurt’s eyes catch on his, going round before he ducks his head, hair half falling in his face, “I’d like that.” 

Todd swats Kurt’s thigh with one hand, leaving it there after the impact. The blue mutant’s sweatpants are starting to pill and Todd absently rubs his thumb over the scraggly fabric, “Ain’t you gonna invite me out to roam the streets of Europe?” 

“Well I don’t know about all of Europe. We usually roam down from Germany to Spain via France,” Kurt says, his tail finding Todd’s arm again before the amphibious mutant can pull back at what sounds like a no with more layers, “You wouldn’t mind the rough nights?” 

Those gold eyes are watching him like Todd’s got the moon in his hands and could either smash it on the ground or let it fly. Todd swallows, feels the weight of what it means to have someone give a shit about his opinion of them.

“You kidding me?” Todd says, “Sign me up to help find whoever else is on your shitlist, blue.”

Kurt stomach swoops like he’s already leaping rooftop to rooftop as he looks at Todd’s crooked grin, imagines glancing out of the corner of his eye to catch Todd’s as he bounds alongside him, all wiry power and garnet eyes. 

Todd’s watching him, something uncertain drifting around the edges of his usual brazenness. Like he’s not sure Kurt actually would want him along for the ride. 

Kurt stretches out a hand to rest against Todd’s calf, squeezing muscle under worn denim, “Then we should get you a passport.” 

Todd raises an eyebrow, “You want me to submit for paperwork? Fuck only knows what happened to my shit. I didn’t grab it when I left my mom’s.” 

Kurt grins, bold in the way night calls for, “I didn’t say we’d do it legally.”

"There's the summer of trouble I'm looking for," Todd replies as the moon turns her eyes away from whatever mischief is hatched under her nose.

Chapter Text

“You know, we talked about this and it still isn’t what I was expecting,” Todd says, his voice faint as he stares at the screen in the lab where a horde of masked mutants stare back at him.

The Pack. A group of mutants Todd’s followed for the last couple of years via forums and message boards filled with grainy CCTV footage and eyewitness accounts of mutants saving mutants. Mutants you can find and get food from if you look for the right graffiti marks. Mutants who can help you leave your city, your country if you need to. Mutants that drop down from the sky to whale on the scumbags who stumble out of bars to kick the shit out of whatever poor fucker is taking shelter in the nearby ally. 

The Pack all share the same symbol. Across cities and countries. A jagged “M” that sits over a pair of sharp eyes like a pair of wolf ears. 

“Guys, did you have to do this in full drama?” Kurt asks.

The girl–Todd thinks it’s a girl–sitting at the front of the group tilts her head at Kurt, the polished stone she’s made of, marbled in cream and brown, gleams in the fairy lights of her bedroom. The other Pack members crowd around her, seated on beanbags or spare pillows in what looks like a very normal teenage girl bedroom. Not that Todd has a great concept of what normal is, given Wanda has painted her entire room black with a blood red ceiling and covered everything in velvet and Tabby’s room looks like a hippie van collided into a junk shop and stayed there, but still. 

“You have exactly zero room to throw that stone in your house of glass, Nightshade,” She says and titters drift out from behind masks.

Something cracks in Todd’s head. The grainy footage of a pair of assholes chasing a kid stumbling over themselves as a lean figure slithers out of the shadows of a grimy alley wall towards them plays in his memories. 

Nightshade. 

A member of the Pack that sparks fights in forums because no one can agree if they’re actually real, if they’re a guy or a girl, or if they’re a cryptid concocted out of one off incidents just similar enough to feel like the same mutant.

And that’s his boyfriend.

“I’m dating a vigilante,” Todd says, an odd feeling ballooning in his chest, “You’ve been giving me shit for years when you’ve been doing the same damn thing.” 

—

Kurt swallows back the barbs rising in his throat. He’s been on edge all week over this, to the point where Scott kept shooting him exasperated looks for missing cues during drills and he’d gotten sent to Beast’s office because Storm thought he might be getting an infection from his injuries. 

He’d run a thousand scenarios over and over through his head. That the Brotherhood would be angry he wasted their time. That Todd would be angry at him for hiding this. That they’d make fun of him for playing superhero. 

But he had forgotten the way Todd’s voice went right through his ribs when it dropped low and mutinous like this. 

The room around them falls silent, the faint static of the video call feels deafening, the hazy connection fighting to stay tethered across the ocean. 

Kurt opens his mouth. He looks at Todd and there is no hint of amber left in his eyes. Kurt’s stomach drops to his ankles before shooting into his throat. Panic and indignation grapple in the back of his mind, fighting to see which one gets to dart past his lips first. 

He feels Scott tensing behind him, catches his sister’s whisper as she holds Scott back from whatever he might have done. He’d come today along with Evan, Kitty and Rogue, because the four of them had traveled with Kurt and gotten to meet his friends back home. They could help grease the gears. 

It occurs to Kurt how flammable oil can be in the right circumstances, and how new all of this is. How much of his life gets rotated through like out of season clothes stuffed in boxes until winter thaws. 

Todd stares back at him with eyes that burn like embers. Kurt looks away. 

He meets Lance’s eyes, the other boy’s expression is tight around the edges, but he looks less inclined to punch Kurt in the face at this particular moment. Which is good. 

Kurt half turns to glance back at the others, he catches Rogue’s eye, “Do you mind introducing everyone? I think something important has come up.” 

Rogue nods, shoulders softening as she looks from him to Lance, “Yeah. Yeah I think we know everyone well enough to manage that, if y’all don’t mind?” 

“That’s fine,” Lance says, and murmurs start up around them again, but Kurt’s only got eyes for the boy in front of him.

“Do you want to go somewhere and talk?” He asks, holding out his hand and quietly thanking whatever god is listening that his voice doesn’t shake. 

Todd’s gaze drops from Kurt’s face to his hand and for a split second Kurt expects him to spit in it. Then the shorter mutant heaves a long sigh like an old kettle letting off steam and slaps his hand into Kurt’s. 

“Your choice of venue, sunshine,” He says with the same venom he used to reserve for “fuzznuts.” 

But he’s talking to him, so Kurt’ll take it.

—

Of course Kurt takes them to the gazebo. 

His irritation must show on his face, because blue mutant curses softly before stammering out an offer to take them someplace else that Todd waves off, hand already rummaging through his jacket pocket for his rolling papers and tobacco. 

Todd glances at Kurt’s hunched figure over his shoulder. Tries to mesh the cringing boy who’s giving him the wet kitten stare with the lean figure that hunts packs of European fratboys like a hungry fox after a rabbit.

“Save it,” Todd says, “I need a smoke, I’ll be back in ten.” 

He bounds from the rickety wooden banister and books it for the gnarled old oak across the park. By the time he makes it there he’s almost convinced himself he isn’t moved by the sight of Kurt perched on the banister railing curled in on himself like a dejected muppet gargoyle. Some part of his rage is mollified by those big sad eyes watching him, while a different part howls for him to make the other mutant grovel. 

He ignores them both as he leaps up into the embrace of the stooped old oak. Turning his attention to the ritual of rolling and lighting a cigarette. The paper rasps cool and dry against his fingers. The wheel of the lighter digs into his thumb, long calloused against its attention. 

Inhale. Smoke fills his lungs, snares on all the burrs of his thoughts. Exhale. Smoke leaves him in whorls, dragging some of that rage with it.

He repeats. 

Inhale. Kurt is fucking Nightshade.

Exhale. That’s honestly kinda dope.

Inhale. Nightshade is known for beating the shit out of people who attack mutants.

Exhale. Todd respects that approach.

Inhale. Kurt has been a condescending little X-Geek Shit to him for years.

Exhale. Todd has been a shit back. You get what you give.

Inhale. Where does the blueberry get off lecturing Todd about his choices?

Exhale. Alright, maybe Todd had a habit of busting open lockers to see what folks had, but come on? These little suburbanite snots could handle losing some lunch money.

Inhale. How the fuck could Kurt run around cold cocking people for mutant rights but still go so hard for the X-Geek hold hands and sing shit?

Exhale. 

Inhale. Todd’s not gonna get an answer sitting here smoking is he? 

Todd sighs, slumping back against the tree, feeling the way it snags against the spikes on his denim jacket. He tips his head back, knocking it against the gnarled trunk. The faded leaves wave down at him as he stares up into the sky.