Don't Over Think It
This is my contribution to UnkemptBeauty's Kurtty Chore Challenge.
Restrictions: No less than 1,000 words -Met (Before I added any notes.)
Plot has to have something to do with housework -Met
Kurt didn't know if it was the noticeable silence that echoes a sudden and prolonged lack of work-related movement that caught Kitty's attention, or if she had just caught his reflection staring at her in the mirror. He suspected, however, it was probably the latter because she did not so much as glance in his direction or otherwise pause in her janitorial duties, her casually tossed "What?" as she leaned over the already polished-within-an-inch-of-its-life pink marble sink to spray the top of the vanity mirror with Windex the only indication that she was even aware he still in the room.
He started slightly, realizing he must have been standing in the shower, old rag poised against the peach tiles just under the showerhead, staring at her for at least ten minutes. In that moment, he was grateful that his fur, if nothing else, hid his rapidly heating cheeks from her smiling eyes, the blush that was undoubtedly turning his skin bright red further evidence of his embarrassment at getting caught staring and feeling like a stalker.
"Oh nothing,' he replied off-handedly, "You just look really domestic right now."
This had evidently not been a good thing to say because Kitty whipped around and pinned him with a glare that would have made Logan flinch, although Kurt wasn't sure why. The statement was true , dressed in a pair of blue jean overalls and an old faded yellow T-shirt with holes in the back, Kitty looked endearingly domestic, which Kurt didn't see as a bad thing; he suspected he probably looked similar in his old jean cut-offs and a T-shirt he was fairly certain had been white at one point. Standard bathroom cleaning attire.
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?'
"Nothing bad!" he insisted quickly, shaking his head with quick nervous jerks, hands flying up in the universal gesture of surrender. "I just meant…you're just cute is all."
She stared at him a moment longer before shaking her head in obvious amusement. "You are so weird sometimes, Kurt," she informed him, laughing as she turned back to the neglected mirror and began carefully polishing away the streaks on the glass.
Kurt felt a deeper chuckle bubble up from his throat, relived that the potential crisis had been averted. He turned his attention back to the pretty peach shower wall and began scrubbing at the light layer of soap scum and mildew. "Yes, well, with this face, what do you expect?" Her laughter graced his ears like the familiar chords to his favorite song, making his lips twitch upward and tail sway languidly in contentment.
"So are you gonna, like, tell me why you've been so, like, skittish around me lately?"
The question had caught him off guard. His efforts stilled against the wall as he half-turned to glance at her from the corner of his eye. He had hoped she hadn't noticed his sudden nervousness and insecurity or had at least written it off as 'Kurt going through one of his phases'. She dropped her dust rag into the bucket of hot, soapy water that had previously been used to scrub the sink and cabinets and was now cleaning the shower. She was watching his own movements with curious eyes, not overly upset just a little…concerned.
"I'm sorry," he said, turning to face her fully, though he was taking an unnatural interest in her shoes. "I'm just not sure how this whole second girlfriend thing is supposed to work."
"Well, I'm your first second girlfriend," she laughed picking up the bucket and climbing in beside him, setting to work on the adjoining wall. "Give it time."
He laughed, a small shy sound, but a laugh nonetheless, and continued with his own wall, the tiles sparkling pristinely under his ministrations. In truth, he wasn't even really certain why he was so nervous and self-conscious around her all of the sudden. Telling her that he was in love with her had been easy, as natural and instinctive as breathing. Asking her to be his girlfriend had been equally simple, a reflex reaction, inhale and exhale. But the transition from friendship to lovers was presenting him with…difficulties.
"I just keep feeling like I'm doing something wrong," he offered quietly, paying the wall he was scrubbing more attention than was strictly necessary. "Like I'm not doing something I should be, or I am doing something I shouldn't be, and…" He trailed off, turning to face her though he still couldn't meet her eyes. She was watching him patiently, not giving any indication that she wasn't willing to stand in the downstairs girls' shower with him surrounded by the sterile, cloying smell of bleach and soap all day if that was how long it took him to put his feelings into words. "And I'm afraid I'm going to mess this up."
She smiled warmly, placing a comforting hand against his cheek. "You're just thinking about it too much.," she said. He cocked his head slightly, not understanding. "We don't have to change, Kurt. I'm still gonna, like, check over everything that you write to make sure you haven't, like, butchered the English language. And you're still gonna make fun of me when I say 'like', like, every other word. And we're still gonna tease Scott and Jean every chance we get, and watch NCIS on Tuesdays." She held up the soap bucket in between them, "Clean the bathrooms on Saturdays. Nothing has to be any different, except now I'll let you watch me change when we're done."
She laughed loudly at his wide eyes and shocked expression, running her fingers through his hair. "We're still going to be us, Kurt.Don't over think it."
He used to give himself the same advice when he'd first discovered his power. At first he had tried to figure everything out, how far away from the ground he needed to be, how close any obstacles might be, where he wanted to be in relation to everything else, afraid he would accidentally teleport halfway through something or end up too far above the ground to catch himself or any other hazard a seven year old kid can come up with.
But as he learned more about how his abilities worked, he realized all he really needed was a clear picture of where he wanted to be in his mind. His brain took care of the physics and calculations unconsciously, like walking or a the way a bird flies. It was when he started interrupting those natural patterns and unnecessarily complicating things that he had problems.
For a few weeks after this epiphany, he would consciously tell himself Don't over think it. Just enjoy the ride. After a while, it just became natural, like breathing.
He tossed his own rag into the bucket, satisfied with the shower's new state of cleanliness, grasping Kitty's hand as she did the same. "I really do love you," he told her, finally able to meet her eyes. "I always have."
She smiled warmly at him and leaned forward to kiss his nose, "I love you too. Sorry it took me so long to figure it out."
He shrugged, taking the bucket from her and slipping his free arm around her shoulders, "You're worth the wait," he replied before seeking her mouth with his own.
The kiss was brief, just a taste of each other, but the feelings and promises it encompassed were anything but. He smiled mischievously as he pulled away, finally feeling normal, comfortable, enough to be playful, "Does this mean I get to take you up on your offer?"
She giggled sweetly, her breath ruffling the fur on his chin, "Don't get ahead of yourself, Elf, we've still got three bathrooms to go."
"We'd better get started then."
And with all the effort of breathing they were gone, nothing more than a puff of smoke and the lingering smell of sulfur on the air.
Don't over think it. Just enjoy the ride.
-'Well, I'm your first second girlfriend. Give it time.' Paraphrased from Gilmore Girls. Loralye and Rory discussing her new relationship with Jess.
-'Over thinking things' The human mind really is a incredible thing. When you think about all the physics and calculations involved in an action as simple as walking or lifting a fork, something we do every day, and we never actually think about it. The brain figures all that stuff out without any input from us other than relatively where we want things to end up. I mean just imagine if you had to sit there and consciously figure out the exact angle at which it is necessary to bring a cup to you lips and drink from it without spilling its contents all over the place. Scary thought, huh?