[There's a cryptic-ness to Kurt's brief response that leaves him feeling tense. Knowing he's said the wrong thing, but not understanding why when it feels like honesty.]
[The words clarify the kind of conversation Kurt's looking to get out of him, but if there's any hesitation in Logan to express his feelings on the matter its only because he hasn't figured out what it is he feels.]
better that it's not i guess.
i don't know, Kurt. it's better not to think about it.
I'm not sure how you feel, Logan. that's the problem. would you have told me at all if I hadn't found out? would you tell me if Ororo arrives? or Scott? or Rachel? it's hard enough to trust that I know what's going on here without you keeping things from me as well.
you know what, forget about it. I'll see you later, Logan. or I won't. I suppose you'll decide that as well.
For a moment it looks like he's typing something. But the message never comes through.
He's always hated this stupid device and conversations like this only make him resent it more. As if something here could have been avoided if there was more to it than intangible black pixels on some dimly lit screen.
He's not Kurt. He can't be where he wants to be in the blink of an eye. But the time between that last message and the rattle of the door to that bar is narrow enough that it's clear he came directly and without stopping, sniffing around for Kurt wherever he might find him.
"I know yer there, Elf," he mutters to the closed door.
Even if Logan had sent that message, it would probably have stayed unread, given that Kurt's Fluid is sitting resolutely on the other end of the bar, far enough away from he's currently polishing glasses to keep it out of sight if not out of mind. As so recently advised, he's trying very hard to just not think about anything. And failing, of course, because, like his tail, his mind has a tendency to wander and cause trouble.
He's expecting some form of response from Logan; their quarrels are rare enough that he knows his partner wouldn't want to leave words unsaid, not after everything that's happened between them, both in Deerington and the waking world. He knows the man well enough to expect it to happen in person rather than through the device he hates so much. So he's not exactly surprised when he hears the door at the top of the stairs vibrate in its frame, as if tried by someone not used to having them shut in his face.
Kurt briefly considers teleporting out -- he could make it back to the cabin easily, and probably be able to cover any side effects before Logan found him -- but that feels both cowardly and hypocritical. Staying silent and forcing Logan to use other means to get in would only make things worse. Kurt stares down at the glass in his hands as he weighs the alternatives and finds them wanting, then lets out a short breath and sets it down.
The stairs up to the door are cramped and dark, but by now Kurt knows them well. He trots easily up, throws the bolt on the door and immediately turns and heads back down, not saying a word to the man who is waiting for him, letting his silence and the fact that he unlocked the door at all speak for itself as he leads the way down to the empty bar.
The longer he waits the more he considers sitting himself down out there. Of course, Kurt could pass him undetected if he wanted to, but despite the man's skill at moving around unnoticed he's not the kind of person to avoid a difficult conversation. There's never been a cowardly bone in the man's body. But if it's time Kurt wants— on his own terms— he'll give him that.
He pats himself down for something to smoke while he waits but the bolt on the door makes a thunking noise before he can find it. He waits. And when the door doesn't move he eases it open himself, sighing into the long dark hallway before he makes his way down.
He rarely sees the place so dark and quiet as this, but even with a crowd to serve it still smells faintly sticky sweet of drying drink.
"You weren't home. So I though you might be here. But I don't hafta be, if you'd rather I wasn't."
Kurt has retreated back behind the bar by the time he hears Logan's heavy tread on the stairs. He glances up once, a brief flicker of glowing eyes that anyone else might miss, and tries to stay aloof. But he's never been the kind to sulk, and finds it an uncomfortable silence to maintain; Logan's words make him subside slightly, suddenly ashamed of himself. The tension doesn't disappear from the lines of his shoulders or the quick side-to-side switch of his tail, but he gives Logan his full attention, at least.
"Nein," he sighs, before the far more acid response can make its way out of his mind. "You can be here."
He turns and fetches a couple of bottles of beer from the fridge beneath the bar, thumbs the caps off and slides one carefully across the bartop in Logan's general direction. They've always talked better over a drink, and Kurt feels like he's earned it at least. He swallows a quick cold mouthful before continuing.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have.. what I said wasn't kind, Logan, I'm sorry I said that."
“Only if you want that,” he says, shuffling a little closer. If his mistake is making choices for the both of them, he’s determined not to do it again.
His gaze lingers on the beer a long moment, reading far more into it than he probably should. If it’s an olive branch, it ought to be him extending it, no? It does little to clarify just how badly he’s misstepped, but still, he’s never refused a drink with Kurt in his life and he’s not about to start now. “I don’t think anybody’d say you don’t deserve to give me a piece of your mind when you want to.
He leans on the bar with his hands around the bottle and for the first time since they left he sort of wishes that string still connected them. He takes no joy in telepathy, but it’s easy to catch himself wishing he knew if the younger man wanted to finish what he began in that message. Leave him with an earful. Or if he only wants Logan to find something worth saying for himself.
"Perhaps," Kurt sighs, unwilling to commit to defending himself when he feels that he's only making mistakes. "But not like that."
He doesn't move any closer to Logan, instead leaning back against the counter behind the bar, his arms loosely crossed as he tries to think through what he actually does want to say. Somehow the conversation has veered into slightly new territory: a discussion based on their relationship as partners, not just friends. Though they've talked before about and around it, this feels closer to dictating boundaries on something that still feels a little undefined. Part of Kurt wants to linger over that thought, but he doesn't want to leave Logan waiting too long.
He spares Logan a quick glance, then looks down at the bottle in his hand, picking restlessly at the label with his thumbnail.
"I'm not.. you know that I'm used to your having secrets from me. I've always understood that it's a necessary part of our relationship and I don't expect otherwise. Even when I was stood inside of your mind, I didn't want to open any of those doors unless I had to, unless you asked it of me. But.. there are secrets and then there is.. deliberately avoiding the truth, or avoiding me, because you want to save my feelings. I thought that what we talked about in the forest, after your nightmare, had cleared that up. That you would remember that you're not alone. But now I find out that you've been keeping things to yourself again, things that I could help with, that I need to know about, and I find myself feeling.. disappointed." Still avoiding Logan's gaze, he lets out a breath that seems to have been caught up somewhere under his ribs and forces himself to continue, the words coming from him almost unwillingly. "And wondering what else you're not telling me. And I know that is a selfish feeling, and it's unfair to expect you to want to be something you are not, but.."
He lifts his head, distress written clearly in his expression. "I feel so outside of everything, Logan. There's so much here I don't know if I can trust. I don't want to feel that way about you." He pauses briefly, remembering darker days, years ago, shortly before Hope and a desperate act had cost him almost everything. "Not again."
“It’s no secret, darlin’. I wasn’t lookin’ to keep it from you,” he says plainly after a long drink. It hardly excuses him and he doesn’t hold himself as though he thinks it ought to, but neither does he look like he expects that fact will do anything to assuage the disappointment Kurt has laid at his feet.
Of all Logan’s admitted missteps one does feel different. This one isn’t born of his penchant for protection of those closest to him. Neither does he yet believe that Kurt’s frustration comes from his silence alone rather than the subject of that silence. That’s what makes him think this is not exactly a conversation they’ve had before. That this might be the kind of conversation they’ve managed to avoid in their lifetime if only because they’ve never before allowed themselves quite this kind of companionship. Always close, but never committed to it.
He’s certain Kurt knows, he’d rather the man tore a strip out of him. At least he’d feel like he offered up something satisfying if the other man could see to raise his voice or raise a fist. Some recompense for his transgressions. But that’s not Kurt.
Kurt, he thinks, wants only to be proven right about him. And as always Logan can’t imagine ever being half the man Kurt’s so often made him out to be.
“Maybe I don’t deserve it,” he says, watching Kurt’s expression from the corner of his eye to see if that thought finds a comfortable home this time. Sooner or later, he’s always expected it would. Eventually. And maybe that time has come.
Supporting his carefully cultivated sense of self-disgust is one of the few areas where Kurt is happy to be a constant disappointment to Logan. Years of experience allows for a little brevity in his response; he barely restrains himself from rolling his eyes and shoots Logan an unamused look instead, as if fending off a subject so obviously ridiculous that it's not even worth considering. Then he sighs and seems to subside a little, as if letting go of the weight of his own emotions has left him somehow depleted.
"One day I hope you'll stop feeling as though you need to test me, Liebchen," he points out in a low voice, almost to himself, then chases the words with a long swallow of beer. He sets the bottle down on the counter, his hands drifting together to turn the ring on his finger instead, a fidgeting habit that's become particularly ingrained since giving away his crucifix necklace.
"Testing what? Your conviction? I'm not dumb enough to think I'd get odds on that."He'd never admit it. Logan knows that. But that's not what he's watching for. It's subtler than that. There's a thorn in the man's expression that lets him know he's moved the needle. Edged him ever closer to exactly what Logan imagines to be the inevitable, no matter what he refuses to admit.
"I'm not lookin' for sympathy, Elf. I'm not sittin' here makin' excuses, am I? Would it make you happier if I did? Or would that just be givin' you something to other than me to blame for all the ways I'm not who you want me to be?"
He takes another drink when Kurt still doesn't continue. "Some half an hour ago, you were ready to cut me up. What changed?"
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if Amanda showed up.
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you would?
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I'd understand. But I'd still worry.
[There's a cryptic-ness to Kurt's brief response that leaves him feeling tense. Knowing he's said the wrong thing, but not understanding why when it feels like honesty.]
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Just getting a few more things for the upper level.
are you?
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[ You're not going to get away that easy, mister. ]
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I'm not, Elf.
She's not our Jeannie.
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better that it's not i guess.
i don't know, Kurt. it's better not to think about it.
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[ Alone. ]
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you sound like you think I oughta feel some type of way about it.
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you know what, forget about it. I'll see you later, Logan. or I won't. I suppose you'll decide that as well.
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He's always hated this stupid device and conversations like this only make him resent it more. As if something here could have been avoided if there was more to it than intangible black pixels on some dimly lit screen.
He's not Kurt. He can't be where he wants to be in the blink of an eye. But the time between that last message and the rattle of the door to that bar is narrow enough that it's clear he came directly and without stopping, sniffing around for Kurt wherever he might find him.
"I know yer there, Elf," he mutters to the closed door.
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He's expecting some form of response from Logan; their quarrels are rare enough that he knows his partner wouldn't want to leave words unsaid, not after everything that's happened between them, both in Deerington and the waking world. He knows the man well enough to expect it to happen in person rather than through the device he hates so much. So he's not exactly surprised when he hears the door at the top of the stairs vibrate in its frame, as if tried by someone not used to having them shut in his face.
Kurt briefly considers teleporting out -- he could make it back to the cabin easily, and probably be able to cover any side effects before Logan found him -- but that feels both cowardly and hypocritical. Staying silent and forcing Logan to use other means to get in would only make things worse. Kurt stares down at the glass in his hands as he weighs the alternatives and finds them wanting, then lets out a short breath and sets it down.
The stairs up to the door are cramped and dark, but by now Kurt knows them well. He trots easily up, throws the bolt on the door and immediately turns and heads back down, not saying a word to the man who is waiting for him, letting his silence and the fact that he unlocked the door at all speak for itself as he leads the way down to the empty bar.
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He pats himself down for something to smoke while he waits but the bolt on the door makes a thunking noise before he can find it. He waits. And when the door doesn't move he eases it open himself, sighing into the long dark hallway before he makes his way down.
He rarely sees the place so dark and quiet as this, but even with a crowd to serve it still smells faintly sticky sweet of drying drink.
"You weren't home. So I though you might be here. But I don't hafta be, if you'd rather I wasn't."
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"Nein," he sighs, before the far more acid response can make its way out of his mind. "You can be here."
He turns and fetches a couple of bottles of beer from the fridge beneath the bar, thumbs the caps off and slides one carefully across the bartop in Logan's general direction. They've always talked better over a drink, and Kurt feels like he's earned it at least. He swallows a quick cold mouthful before continuing.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have.. what I said wasn't kind, Logan, I'm sorry I said that."
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His gaze lingers on the beer a long moment, reading far more into it than he probably should. If it’s an olive branch, it ought to be him extending it, no? It does little to clarify just how badly he’s misstepped, but still, he’s never refused a drink with Kurt in his life and he’s not about to start now. “I don’t think anybody’d say you don’t deserve to give me a piece of your mind when you want to.
He leans on the bar with his hands around the bottle and for the first time since they left he sort of wishes that string still connected them. He takes no joy in telepathy, but it’s easy to catch himself wishing he knew if the younger man wanted to finish what he began in that message. Leave him with an earful. Or if he only wants Logan to find something worth saying for himself.
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He doesn't move any closer to Logan, instead leaning back against the counter behind the bar, his arms loosely crossed as he tries to think through what he actually does want to say. Somehow the conversation has veered into slightly new territory: a discussion based on their relationship as partners, not just friends. Though they've talked before about and around it, this feels closer to dictating boundaries on something that still feels a little undefined. Part of Kurt wants to linger over that thought, but he doesn't want to leave Logan waiting too long.
He spares Logan a quick glance, then looks down at the bottle in his hand, picking restlessly at the label with his thumbnail.
"I'm not.. you know that I'm used to your having secrets from me. I've always understood that it's a necessary part of our relationship and I don't expect otherwise. Even when I was stood inside of your mind, I didn't want to open any of those doors unless I had to, unless you asked it of me. But.. there are secrets and then there is.. deliberately avoiding the truth, or avoiding me, because you want to save my feelings. I thought that what we talked about in the forest, after your nightmare, had cleared that up. That you would remember that you're not alone. But now I find out that you've been keeping things to yourself again, things that I could help with, that I need to know about, and I find myself feeling.. disappointed." Still avoiding Logan's gaze, he lets out a breath that seems to have been caught up somewhere under his ribs and forces himself to continue, the words coming from him almost unwillingly. "And wondering what else you're not telling me. And I know that is a selfish feeling, and it's unfair to expect you to want to be something you are not, but.."
He lifts his head, distress written clearly in his expression. "I feel so outside of everything, Logan. There's so much here I don't know if I can trust. I don't want to feel that way about you." He pauses briefly, remembering darker days, years ago, shortly before Hope and a desperate act had cost him almost everything. "Not again."
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“It’s no secret, darlin’. I wasn’t lookin’ to keep it from you,” he says plainly after a long drink. It hardly excuses him and he doesn’t hold himself as though he thinks it ought to, but neither does he look like he expects that fact will do anything to assuage the disappointment Kurt has laid at his feet.
Of all Logan’s admitted missteps one does feel different. This one isn’t born of his penchant for protection of those closest to him. Neither does he yet believe that Kurt’s frustration comes from his silence alone rather than the subject of that silence. That’s what makes him think this is not exactly a conversation they’ve had before. That this might be the kind of conversation they’ve managed to avoid in their lifetime if only because they’ve never before allowed themselves quite this kind of companionship. Always close, but never committed to it.
He’s certain Kurt knows, he’d rather the man tore a strip out of him. At least he’d feel like he offered up something satisfying if the other man could see to raise his voice or raise a fist. Some recompense for his transgressions. But that’s not Kurt.
Kurt, he thinks, wants only to be proven right about him. And as always Logan can’t imagine ever being half the man Kurt’s so often made him out to be.
“Maybe I don’t deserve it,” he says, watching Kurt’s expression from the corner of his eye to see if that thought finds a comfortable home this time. Sooner or later, he’s always expected it would. Eventually. And maybe that time has come.
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"One day I hope you'll stop feeling as though you need to test me, Liebchen," he points out in a low voice, almost to himself, then chases the words with a long swallow of beer. He sets the bottle down on the counter, his hands drifting together to turn the ring on his finger instead, a fidgeting habit that's become particularly ingrained since giving away his crucifix necklace.
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"I'm not lookin' for sympathy, Elf. I'm not sittin' here makin' excuses, am I? Would it make you happier if I did? Or would that just be givin' you something to other than me to blame for all the ways I'm not who you want me to be?"
He takes another drink when Kurt still doesn't continue. "Some half an hour ago, you were ready to cut me up. What changed?"
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