Kurt Wagner is bored. His boyfriend was supposed to show up three hours ago, but instead he is plucking strawberries from the box he was supposed to leave for the fondue he’d prepared.
Part of him wishes Hank would have at least called that he would be late or something. He knows Hank isn’t the type to stand him up, that would literally be impossible considering that their date was taking place in their shared apartment. He pulls off the stems of the strawberries, as if he’s asking them if Hank McCoy really loves him or not.
It’s childish, Kurt knows that much. But anything to take his mind off of the slight burn of being forgotten. He looks at the tealight that he had underneath the fondue holder and sighed. He really did plan the perfect romantic night only for Hank to get tied up with someone else.
Kurt had even cleaned and brushed his coat, so that he would be nice and fluffy for the night. But as the hours pull closer and closer to midnight, part of him realizes that nothing would be happening, tonight. He sighs inwardly, and grabs the last strawberry from the box, before hearing the door unlock.
Much like a cat, Kurt jumps up in his seat. He shoves the strawberry in his mouth before jumping towards the door, opening it up with excitement despite the fact that he is disappointed in Hank.
“You’re late.” Kurt says, with hand on his hip, demanding an explanation. “Three hours late.”
Hank smiles, and presses a kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “Let me live, will you? I bought you flowers to make up for it.”
He has a bouquet of lilies and roses. And a bottle of plum wine. It makes Kurt smile, but he still tries to play the frustrated husband.
“Where were you! I ate all the strawberries while you were gone…” Kurt buries his face in Hank’s fur. “I thought you forgot about me!” He plays into the dramatics. Hank doesn’t mind it, and usually encourages it.
“Summers forced me into staying a few more hours for a presentation. Never again will I let that man convince me to do anything.” Hank exclaims, using his free hand to rub Kurt’s back. “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”
I do not believe in love at first sight. But god damn. (Look at you.)
When Kurt and Hank had first met, Hank seemed like the all elusive superhero. He was beautiful and charming and all those adjectives that Kurt didn’t know at the beginning, and he thought that feeling of being head-over-heels would fade away, and for the most part they did. Hank wasn’t around often enough for any of those feelings to develop or cure.
But, at a gay bar, with a few of his friends, Kurt felt all those feelings rushing back into his chest. Hank was stripped down to his too tight white shirt, talking about something that Kurt didn’t fully understand. He had his blue fur pushed away from his face, and his spectacles were nowhere to be found.
Hank looked so fetching, and Kurt couldn’t concentrate on anything but him. Kurt had lost interest in everything else.
He’d originally gone for moral support: Bobby’s first time at a gay bar. It was a comfortable affair until Hank had gotten to his fourth Long Island iced Tea of the evening. He was getting awfully warm and uncomfortable in the bar, and he had taken off his blazer and tie. He was seated next to Kurt, with his back pressed against the barstool.
“You don’t look so hot.” Bobby said, and then filled Hank’s empty glass with shaved ice.
“Actually, Bobby, I’m very hot.” Hank looked at him with a smile. “I appreciate the night out, but I think I might to have to head back. Do you think you’re in good hands?”
Bobby looked at the jukebox where Piotr and Logan were chatting. He’d be in fairly safe hands, if anyone decided to attack.
“You should take Kurt with you, just to be safe, you know?” Hank could very well defend himself, but Bobby didn’t want to take the risk. Bobby nudged Hank’s shoulder and then gestured at the glass. “Have a drink of water before you leave though.”
Hank looked at the glass of ice, and tipped it back into his mouth, biting down with a soft crunch. “I shouldn’t take Kurt, he probably wants to stay.”
And it could be the fact that the music was like Azazel making cotton candy with his head, but Kurt wanted to leave, but he didn’t want it to be with Hank. Kurt wasn’t the one to say no to a way out, so he tried to reassure Hank.
“It is no problem, Hank. I don’t mind going back with you. Although, I don’t have a car, and I don’t think Piotr would let us borrow his, do you mind I transport you?” Kurt hadn’t had anything to drink, he prefered not to drink outside of the manor.
If Hank was warm from the alcohol, Kurt was boiling with how Hank looked. If his cheeks could flush anything but blue, they would. He curled his tail to show his sincerity, wrapping it around Hank’s chair.
“If it really isn’t a bother, to either of you, I wouldn’t mind going home.” Hank shrugged. “Tell me if you meet any studs.”
“I don’t know how most people feel about dating a furry blue man, but I’ll to pass out your number if I find a guy who’s willing to date you.” Bobby joked, and Hank pawed at his shoulder.
Kurt didn’t say anything, afraid to interrupt their banter, but then Hank put his paw on top of Kurt’s and he could swear for a moment he had died again.
“As they say, Viel Spass!” Hank hiccuped into his paw. “I hope I didn’t butcher the pronunciation.”
Without a moment to waste, Kurt tightened his grip on Hank and they both bamfed to the institute.
Kurt had chosen his own room to bamf into, but upon arriving he realized that he had left without Hank’s blazer and his tie. Oh well, he’d text Logan to get them later on. He watched as Hank removed his shirt and then struggled with his undershirt.
“I apologize, I’m very warm, but not in a cozy manner.” Hank said as he pulled his shirt over his head. “I–”
“Don’t apologize, Henry.” Kurt cut him off, he knew how much Hank loved to talk especially when intoxicated, and picked up Hank’s shirt from the floor. “I’ve seen you naked plenty before.”
Kurt scrunched up the shirt in his hands, and watched as Hank dropped backwards on Kurt’s bed. There was a loud ominous creek from it, but Kurt acted like he didn’t hear it, and Hank really didn’t notice it. He stared at Hank as he rested on the bed in silence, reeking of alcohol, sweat and brimstone.
He can’t believe this was the man he had feelings for and that he was taking up most of his bed.
