Such Pretty Words [1/1]
Title: Such Pretty Words
Summary: “Just This Once” Nightcrawler/Toad
Rating: PG-15?
Warnings: Char. Death. Angst. Slash.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: For Fritz. Yayay. Arts. Un-Beta'd. Bleh. I need to update MY OWN LJ more. Oh fritz. Forgive the bad german, becuase if like, I got it wrong...meh. I'll fix it later. This was like, from my mind, pulled it yeah. So sorry. I need to brush up on it...x____x
----
They’d been attracted by their similarities, broken by their differences. It took more to get them together (on account of the timid and extremely religious Nightcrawler) than it took to break them apart.
“Just this once.” Mort would plead of the blue man as they met in dark little alleyways, empty bathrooms, cheap apartments (any place they could get their hands on to just…get away from their jobs, from their respective superhero/villain lives. To get away from people who, in all honesty, cared too much or too little) and Kurt would always, always hesitate. And almost always, he would give a bit of a sigh and agree.
“Just this once.” He would repeat, and then nod slightly. An exuberant Mort (as exuberant as he, well, got) would then proceed to drag Kurt to this new place, this other ‘Just This Once.’
‘Just This Once’ didn’t have to be so general. For example, “Just This Once…on the bed.” Meant, of course, just this once on this bed or a bed in general. Or, “Just this once…in Holiday Inn. On the Floor.” Etc, Etc. Something to that liking, of course.
So the ‘Just This Once’ is continued. No questions asked. Their respective team members wouldn’t know as long as this was kept quiet. And as long as they didn’t run out of ‘Just This Once’’s, they would be just fine.
“…No.”
“What?” A wary look at the blue mutant standing before him, jerking the green-ish Toad from his thoughts.
“No.” Kurt repeated again, looking more confident as he spoke.
“Why…Why not?” Mort couldn’t help but ask after a moment of, well, shock. He could still think of plenty of ‘Just This Once’’s , so that shouldn’t be a problem. And…He didn’t understand.
“It’s…not right.” Kurt said quietly, shifting slightly on his feet, glancing around, as if suddenly not wanting to be here. But then again, who would? Nobody wanted to be at a breakup. Even if they were the one doing the breaking up.
They stood in an alleyway, and Mort could see some cars every once and a while rush by at the end of the street, casting eerie, random flashes of light into the otherwise dark alleyway.
A tongue slithered across Kurt’s smooth stomach and pulled him close. The tongue receded after Kurt was nearly pressing against Mort’s body, only to be replaced by arms.
“Don’t do this, Mort.” Kurt whispered quietly, shaking his head ever so slightly.
Mort frowned. How would you react to this sort of situation? Of course you wouldn’t be happy. “Do what, Kurt? I’m-I’m not the one who’s denying what they are-“
Kurt closed his eyes tightly, making Mort hesitate slightly. “Niet. Whatever we are…? It’s over-no, Mort, we had…we never had anything to begin with. It never was anything.” And…So Kurt was obviously struggling to get these words out. He was still saying them and damn if that was fair.
Mort felt something snaking around his wrist and felt the cold spade-like tip of Kurt’s tail wrapping around his wrist. It tugged, forcing Mort to remove his hand from Kurt’s waist.
He bit his lip, letting Kurt stand there, his hands no longer on Nightcrawler’s waist. “S’not fair.” He mumbled after a moment, shaking his head
Kurt gave a bit of a forced laugh. “Nothing in this world seems to be fair anymore, does it, mein freude?” He asked quietly.
“…We could’ve been together. That would’ve been at least a little bit fair. Don’t deny that, Kurt." He muttered a bit sourly, bringing a hand up to rub at his left eye…Not that he was crying, or anything. Because he wasn’t. No. Not…not crying. Honestly.
Mort never knew how irritating time could be, moving both fast and slow as it was moving now. He wanted Kurt to answer, wanted it to just stop, maybe backtrack a little and find out something that he may have done wrong to make Kurt break up with him, to make Kurt not like this anymore. He didn’t think he did anything wrong, so this shouldn’t be happening. Oh god this shouldn’t be damn happening. He wanted the moment to end as he and Kurt stood there, staring at each other.
Nobody made a movement, and then Mort’s eyes narrowed into a slight glare. “I knew this was too good to be real. Too fucking good to be true…And to think,” Another bitter laugh as his hands moved to his side. You could see the slight clench of his fists. “Love. Yeah, I was damned insane to even bloody think of that.” During this time, Mort had shifted closer, nearly nose to nose with the blue mutant. With Kurt.
“Such pretty fucking words-don’t you agree?” He shook his head again, barely noticing the slight tears that now were running down his face, the tears that he had fought so hard to prevent earlier.
“Love. Just an excuse to get hurt.” He managed to snap. And with that, Mort’s fist raised and-Wham! Crackkk!
He turned around, ignoring the cry of pain from the other man as he clutched his now bleeding nose.
And so he left.
Walked away from Kurt, and whatever they had that Kurt had ended (Or he ended. Whatever the hell, it didn’t matter) so abruptly, giving nowhere near a good enough reason.
Though, as Mort glanced up at the cloudy sky, wishing it would rain (because honestly, just how fitting would that be?) it seemed that the sky wouldn’t comply, wouldn’t rain, wouldn’t wash away the tears, the hurt.
Mort knew that yes, their relationship would’ve ended sooner or later. It was completely illogical anyway. An X-Man and someone from the Brotherhood? It shouldn’t have happened in the first place. They had different beliefs, followed under different people. For Fuck’s sake, Kurt was bloody religious! It didn’t matter that they knew what the other had gone through (and had gone through multiple times) having an obvious mutation and all. No, it didn’t matter that Mort knew how to comfort Kurt how he wouldn’t allow anybody else to comfort him. Nope. All those times spent together, all the times that Mort spent pleasing Kurt in every way he knew how (and trust him in the fact that Mort knew a lot of ways). Nope, didn’t matter either. But…
Green and Blue? What did that make anyway? Brown? Such an ugly color.
Whatever.
It was better that way.
Better that it had ended sooner…right?
Now that everything had been said and done, Mort wasn’t sure of this.
He walked down the nearly empty street, (it was sometime between the hours of 3:30 A.M. and 5:30 A.M. and he assumed more towards the latter because of the slight dusty light that was peaking out over the tops of the few houses that he was walking by) lost in thought.
It was always a good idea to choose a place where people didn’t frequent often. Even with the image inducer shit that Kurt made him wear if they went anywhere too public (Mort hated to wear it because he liked his body the way it fucking was, thank you very much. And besides, if he wanted to hide himself, he would’ve created something of his own by now) because, what, was he honestly that worried? Mort seriously doubted it.
But…honestly. He shouldn’t keep thinking of the blue-skinned mutant any longer, especially not like this. Not ‘fond’ memories of their past days.
It was over, remember?
Time to forget.
Oh please, if there was the god that Kurt believed in so much, let him forget.
He…didn’t think it would be that easy, though. Considering he hadn’t prayed to the so called god since he was a child, if even then. It-
BLAM! BLAM!
“Fucking mutie scum!”
Mort felt a jab to the side of his stomach, realizing now that he was on the ground, blood staining the ground, darkening the tan concrete sidewalk, feeling it seep sluggishly out of his chest.
His heart.
Oh god his heart.
He knew that he let out some sort of strangled cry before his face hit the sidewalk, cheek pressing against the cool sidewalk, giving some sort of relief as he coughed, flecks of blood splattering the cement, ruining it even further.
Mort couldn’t honestly be thinking about how the sidewalk was ruined right now. It hurt too much to damn move and he…he was thinking about the sidewalk? But really. It was a nice tan color and…now it was all bloody…
Wow. He must’ve been shot harder than it felt.
Mort heard footsteps coming closer, a rapid succession that, as he tried to listen to the footsteps, determine whose they were and where they were coming from, it…it made his head spin.
Somehow Mort knew that it wasn’t the mutant hater. As if by some shot of luck, someone wasn’t going to shoot him again (not that it mattered). Something told him-he gave a small gasp at the cool hands pressed against his face such a comfort now.
Mort squinted suddenly, not trusting his eyes. …Blue? Why were there blue hands…
It took him only a few more moments to realize and process that it was, indeed, Kurt who was standing over him.
“Mein Gott, Mort-are you okay?” He asked, accent thicker with his worry over the green body sprawled, bleeding on the sidewalk.
“Damn-“ He swallowed back another cough, leaning back into the blue body, his eyelids fluttering. A slight smile tugged at Mort’s lips though, as he realized what color the blood made against his skin against the sidewalk. Heh. Christmas. Funny…He was pulled out of his thoughts as Kurt shifted him better and a shot of pain ran through him.
But he brushed it off. Not the time to think of pain, you know. “I’m-fuck. Not fine, how does it l-look?” He paused here to start coughing, unable to help it. It hurt too damn much. “Do I look fucking fine?” He asked weakly as Kurt stood up, pulling Mort closer to him, which only brought further shots of pain through his stomach, his chest, his head, god, everywhere.
“You’re going to be okay, Mort. I promise you.” Kurt whispered gently, starting to run off to where he’d find the X-Men. Or, hell, get in contact with somebody-anybody.”
“Eh. Blue boy, thanks for the offer-b-but it ain’t gonna happen. Jus’…Jus’ wanted to tell you…I didn’t…didn’t mean what I said earlier and…I love ya. Couldn’t…not love ya.” He smiled a bit, though it was forced.
“No-Niet. Mort, don’t do this. I-I need you and…”
Maybe it was a bad idea to break up with him after all.
Kurt realized, then, that some things that weren’t ‘right’…were absolutely fine, dandy, and perfect. Even if it seemed ‘wrong’ it could be the best thing you’ll ever have.
And Kurt was losing his best thing.
“Hold on, Mort. Please. Can’t leave you, can’t…don’t…”
But Mort’s eyelids had already fluttered closed again, his hands relaxing in their tight grip on Kurt’s arms, just wanting to be close.
He just wanted to be close.
Just wanted to love the poor fool.
But Kurt had thrown that all away and…
Kurt swallowed, tears running down his face even as the red blood matted his clothes and hair and got them both all dirty. He ignored that.
There were acts of great stupidity, and Kurt knew that he must’ve been ranked among the highest. Not paying attention to what he had. What he needed…
Who he needed.
He was going to pay for that. And pay greatly.
But now…now to take care of Mort. Of his lover.
His.
No matter what they would say.
Summary: “Just This Once” Nightcrawler/Toad
Rating: PG-15?
Warnings: Char. Death. Angst. Slash.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: For Fritz. Yayay. Arts. Un-Beta'd. Bleh. I need to update MY OWN LJ more. Oh fritz. Forgive the bad german, becuase if like, I got it wrong...meh. I'll fix it later. This was like, from my mind, pulled it yeah. So sorry. I need to brush up on it...x____x
----
They’d been attracted by their similarities, broken by their differences. It took more to get them together (on account of the timid and extremely religious Nightcrawler) than it took to break them apart.
“Just this once.” Mort would plead of the blue man as they met in dark little alleyways, empty bathrooms, cheap apartments (any place they could get their hands on to just…get away from their jobs, from their respective superhero/villain lives. To get away from people who, in all honesty, cared too much or too little) and Kurt would always, always hesitate. And almost always, he would give a bit of a sigh and agree.
“Just this once.” He would repeat, and then nod slightly. An exuberant Mort (as exuberant as he, well, got) would then proceed to drag Kurt to this new place, this other ‘Just This Once.’
‘Just This Once’ didn’t have to be so general. For example, “Just This Once…on the bed.” Meant, of course, just this once on this bed or a bed in general. Or, “Just this once…in Holiday Inn. On the Floor.” Etc, Etc. Something to that liking, of course.
So the ‘Just This Once’ is continued. No questions asked. Their respective team members wouldn’t know as long as this was kept quiet. And as long as they didn’t run out of ‘Just This Once’’s, they would be just fine.
“…No.”
“What?” A wary look at the blue mutant standing before him, jerking the green-ish Toad from his thoughts.
“No.” Kurt repeated again, looking more confident as he spoke.
“Why…Why not?” Mort couldn’t help but ask after a moment of, well, shock. He could still think of plenty of ‘Just This Once’’s , so that shouldn’t be a problem. And…He didn’t understand.
“It’s…not right.” Kurt said quietly, shifting slightly on his feet, glancing around, as if suddenly not wanting to be here. But then again, who would? Nobody wanted to be at a breakup. Even if they were the one doing the breaking up.
They stood in an alleyway, and Mort could see some cars every once and a while rush by at the end of the street, casting eerie, random flashes of light into the otherwise dark alleyway.
A tongue slithered across Kurt’s smooth stomach and pulled him close. The tongue receded after Kurt was nearly pressing against Mort’s body, only to be replaced by arms.
“Don’t do this, Mort.” Kurt whispered quietly, shaking his head ever so slightly.
Mort frowned. How would you react to this sort of situation? Of course you wouldn’t be happy. “Do what, Kurt? I’m-I’m not the one who’s denying what they are-“
Kurt closed his eyes tightly, making Mort hesitate slightly. “Niet. Whatever we are…? It’s over-no, Mort, we had…we never had anything to begin with. It never was anything.” And…So Kurt was obviously struggling to get these words out. He was still saying them and damn if that was fair.
Mort felt something snaking around his wrist and felt the cold spade-like tip of Kurt’s tail wrapping around his wrist. It tugged, forcing Mort to remove his hand from Kurt’s waist.
He bit his lip, letting Kurt stand there, his hands no longer on Nightcrawler’s waist. “S’not fair.” He mumbled after a moment, shaking his head
Kurt gave a bit of a forced laugh. “Nothing in this world seems to be fair anymore, does it, mein freude?” He asked quietly.
“…We could’ve been together. That would’ve been at least a little bit fair. Don’t deny that, Kurt." He muttered a bit sourly, bringing a hand up to rub at his left eye…Not that he was crying, or anything. Because he wasn’t. No. Not…not crying. Honestly.
Mort never knew how irritating time could be, moving both fast and slow as it was moving now. He wanted Kurt to answer, wanted it to just stop, maybe backtrack a little and find out something that he may have done wrong to make Kurt break up with him, to make Kurt not like this anymore. He didn’t think he did anything wrong, so this shouldn’t be happening. Oh god this shouldn’t be damn happening. He wanted the moment to end as he and Kurt stood there, staring at each other.
Nobody made a movement, and then Mort’s eyes narrowed into a slight glare. “I knew this was too good to be real. Too fucking good to be true…And to think,” Another bitter laugh as his hands moved to his side. You could see the slight clench of his fists. “Love. Yeah, I was damned insane to even bloody think of that.” During this time, Mort had shifted closer, nearly nose to nose with the blue mutant. With Kurt.
“Such pretty fucking words-don’t you agree?” He shook his head again, barely noticing the slight tears that now were running down his face, the tears that he had fought so hard to prevent earlier.
“Love. Just an excuse to get hurt.” He managed to snap. And with that, Mort’s fist raised and-Wham! Crackkk!
He turned around, ignoring the cry of pain from the other man as he clutched his now bleeding nose.
And so he left.
Walked away from Kurt, and whatever they had that Kurt had ended (Or he ended. Whatever the hell, it didn’t matter) so abruptly, giving nowhere near a good enough reason.
Though, as Mort glanced up at the cloudy sky, wishing it would rain (because honestly, just how fitting would that be?) it seemed that the sky wouldn’t comply, wouldn’t rain, wouldn’t wash away the tears, the hurt.
Mort knew that yes, their relationship would’ve ended sooner or later. It was completely illogical anyway. An X-Man and someone from the Brotherhood? It shouldn’t have happened in the first place. They had different beliefs, followed under different people. For Fuck’s sake, Kurt was bloody religious! It didn’t matter that they knew what the other had gone through (and had gone through multiple times) having an obvious mutation and all. No, it didn’t matter that Mort knew how to comfort Kurt how he wouldn’t allow anybody else to comfort him. Nope. All those times spent together, all the times that Mort spent pleasing Kurt in every way he knew how (and trust him in the fact that Mort knew a lot of ways). Nope, didn’t matter either. But…
Green and Blue? What did that make anyway? Brown? Such an ugly color.
Whatever.
It was better that way.
Better that it had ended sooner…right?
Now that everything had been said and done, Mort wasn’t sure of this.
He walked down the nearly empty street, (it was sometime between the hours of 3:30 A.M. and 5:30 A.M. and he assumed more towards the latter because of the slight dusty light that was peaking out over the tops of the few houses that he was walking by) lost in thought.
It was always a good idea to choose a place where people didn’t frequent often. Even with the image inducer shit that Kurt made him wear if they went anywhere too public (Mort hated to wear it because he liked his body the way it fucking was, thank you very much. And besides, if he wanted to hide himself, he would’ve created something of his own by now) because, what, was he honestly that worried? Mort seriously doubted it.
But…honestly. He shouldn’t keep thinking of the blue-skinned mutant any longer, especially not like this. Not ‘fond’ memories of their past days.
It was over, remember?
Time to forget.
Oh please, if there was the god that Kurt believed in so much, let him forget.
He…didn’t think it would be that easy, though. Considering he hadn’t prayed to the so called god since he was a child, if even then. It-
BLAM! BLAM!
“Fucking mutie scum!”
Mort felt a jab to the side of his stomach, realizing now that he was on the ground, blood staining the ground, darkening the tan concrete sidewalk, feeling it seep sluggishly out of his chest.
His heart.
Oh god his heart.
He knew that he let out some sort of strangled cry before his face hit the sidewalk, cheek pressing against the cool sidewalk, giving some sort of relief as he coughed, flecks of blood splattering the cement, ruining it even further.
Mort couldn’t honestly be thinking about how the sidewalk was ruined right now. It hurt too much to damn move and he…he was thinking about the sidewalk? But really. It was a nice tan color and…now it was all bloody…
Wow. He must’ve been shot harder than it felt.
Mort heard footsteps coming closer, a rapid succession that, as he tried to listen to the footsteps, determine whose they were and where they were coming from, it…it made his head spin.
Somehow Mort knew that it wasn’t the mutant hater. As if by some shot of luck, someone wasn’t going to shoot him again (not that it mattered). Something told him-he gave a small gasp at the cool hands pressed against his face such a comfort now.
Mort squinted suddenly, not trusting his eyes. …Blue? Why were there blue hands…
It took him only a few more moments to realize and process that it was, indeed, Kurt who was standing over him.
“Mein Gott, Mort-are you okay?” He asked, accent thicker with his worry over the green body sprawled, bleeding on the sidewalk.
“Damn-“ He swallowed back another cough, leaning back into the blue body, his eyelids fluttering. A slight smile tugged at Mort’s lips though, as he realized what color the blood made against his skin against the sidewalk. Heh. Christmas. Funny…He was pulled out of his thoughts as Kurt shifted him better and a shot of pain ran through him.
But he brushed it off. Not the time to think of pain, you know. “I’m-fuck. Not fine, how does it l-look?” He paused here to start coughing, unable to help it. It hurt too damn much. “Do I look fucking fine?” He asked weakly as Kurt stood up, pulling Mort closer to him, which only brought further shots of pain through his stomach, his chest, his head, god, everywhere.
“You’re going to be okay, Mort. I promise you.” Kurt whispered gently, starting to run off to where he’d find the X-Men. Or, hell, get in contact with somebody-anybody.”
“Eh. Blue boy, thanks for the offer-b-but it ain’t gonna happen. Jus’…Jus’ wanted to tell you…I didn’t…didn’t mean what I said earlier and…I love ya. Couldn’t…not love ya.” He smiled a bit, though it was forced.
“No-Niet. Mort, don’t do this. I-I need you and…”
Maybe it was a bad idea to break up with him after all.
Kurt realized, then, that some things that weren’t ‘right’…were absolutely fine, dandy, and perfect. Even if it seemed ‘wrong’ it could be the best thing you’ll ever have.
And Kurt was losing his best thing.
“Hold on, Mort. Please. Can’t leave you, can’t…don’t…”
But Mort’s eyelids had already fluttered closed again, his hands relaxing in their tight grip on Kurt’s arms, just wanting to be close.
He just wanted to be close.
Just wanted to love the poor fool.
But Kurt had thrown that all away and…
Kurt swallowed, tears running down his face even as the red blood matted his clothes and hair and got them both all dirty. He ignored that.
There were acts of great stupidity, and Kurt knew that he must’ve been ranked among the highest. Not paying attention to what he had. What he needed…
Who he needed.
He was going to pay for that. And pay greatly.
But now…now to take care of Mort. Of his lover.
His.
No matter what they would say.