Summary: Todd's response to the ass-gropage. Todd/Kurt. PG for language and sneaky hands. Sorry it sucks, yo.
Author's Note: I feel that the ending of 'Strategy X' left something to be desired, such as, I dunno, closure. Here's one take on what might have happened once Kurt started school. To challenge myself, I wrote it in pure dialogue. It's harder than I thought, and I'm not sure if I communicated myself properly. I'll probably redo this at some point. Let me know if you have any idea what's going on.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, 'Strategy X' would have ended with snogging. So shut up, Marvel.
Warnings: Male person, other male person, awkward questions. Capiche? It is slash. Kyah. Somehow a bit of angst crept into this with Kurt, but I've come to the conclusion that it's nearly impossible to write Kurt without an angst invasion. As I have been told: "Craaaaawling in my skiiiiiiin…"
After the Fight
"Yaahh! Scheisse(1)—where did you come from?"
"The ceiling. Duh."
"Dude, what do you want?"
"Eh. What's up, yo?"
"Besides you? Biology. Now leave me alone."
"No, I don't think I will, actually."
"What is your problem, Toad?"
"No problem. I just got a question for you."
"All right, I'll bite. What?"
"Well, you remember that big-ass fight we had a couple days ago?"
"You mean when I trashed the danger room?"
"I helped with that, but yeah, man."
"And when innumerable priceless antiques were destroyed?"
"Yeah, probably. My mind was elsewhere, to be honest."
"And when I made an utter fool of myself in general?"
"That's the one, yo."
"Nope. Don't remember a thing."
"What was your question?"
"Yeah, well, considerin' we're probably gonna be mortal enemies or some shit now, I thought it might be a good idea to, you know, clarify some stuff."
"Mein Gott, spit it out, Toad, I'm late!"
"Uh… you know? In the room with all the guns? After you… bamfed, or whatever?"
"…I know what you're talking about, Todd."
"Your name. Or do you not remember?"
"Of course I remember, you asshole! But you never—"
"Get over here!"
"Ouch! Man! Watch the bones, I ain't got spares, yo!"
"Why do you care, huh?"
"You ever see a jellyfish?"
"No, not that! Why do you care what… happened in the danger room? Why can't you just let it go?"
"Those are my personal butt cheeks you had your fuzzy mitts all over, dawg. I just wanna know why. Is that supposed to be some kinda pervy stealth maneuver?"
"Ow! Get off me, man!"
"Fuzzy? … Kurt? Hey! Hey, Kurt!"
"I was just kidding, yo. I swear."
"Look, if you wanna—"
"No, damn it! I can't! It's not—it isn't—"
"—if you wanna talk, I was gonna say… you know where to find me."
"Dumpsters, foo'. Fine dining."
"Heh. Ja, okay. Maybe."
"I'll see ya, man. Don't worry so much."
"I only worry in private."
"It's still unhealthy. Shake shit up. Make other people worry. It's a fuckin' brain spa, man. Trust me."
"I'll do my best."
"Yeah, I know you will. Hey, yo, I know it's painful, but you need to take your eyes off my ass and prick those pointy ears up. That's the bell, ain't it?"
"…the bell? Oh, man, Bio! Meine Guete!"
"…Well. This is gonna be interesting."
1. German for 'shit'. Classy, ain't he?
2. Literally 'til later/soon', or 'see you later'; casual