Midnight Omelets

Summary: Kurt gets finished with a Danger Room session late at night and finds Kitty in the kitchen, cooking. He asks her to make him something and Kitty finds out Kurt can't cook! Teen for naughty stuff.

Disclaimer: I don't own Wolverine and the X-men and am not affiliated with it in any way other than my stories. Read on!


"C'mon, elf, I know you can do better than that," Logan growled. He was crouched at one end of the Danger Room, snarling and flashing his adamantium claws; Kurt was at the other, tail flicking back and forth. They were facing off, both panting, both tired. Wolverine wasn't winning, but neither was Kurt. Kurt kept trying to attack Wolverine, but couldn't get close enough to him for long enough to do much damage.

"Vhat more do you vant?" Kurt retorted, leaning against the wall for a moment to catch his breath.

Logan grinned and moved around Kurt in an arc. "For starters, could yah a' least try t' land a decent kick or punch on me? You've been holding back, kid."

Kurt took a few steps toward the center of the room. "I vould, but I quite like having four limbs, thanks."

Wolverine raised a heavy eyebrow. "I'll make things easier, fah you, ok?" And he charged Kurt, full speed. Kurt easily jumped out of the way, staying just out of Logan's reach. Wolverine tried again. He threw a round kick, then lunged forward and raked the air with his claws. Kurt had to try harder to dodge that. Wolverine kept coming, again and again. Eventually, he threw a good solid sidekick that caught Kurt in the ribs.

Kurt learned forward and groaned. "Ah," he hissed, taking in a sharp breath.

Logan, unsympathetic, just grinned. "Elf, you're pathetic. Are yah gonna let me kick your ass this easy?"

Kurt looked up, a dangerous look in his eyes. He snarled, revealing his gleaming white fangs, and his ears lay flat against the side of his head, like an angry cat. He snapped somewhere inside, and his primal anger and strength broke through.

Lightning quick, he jumped Logan and used the momentum of his jump to knock him over. Logan, surprised, barely had time to react. Kurt continued the assault with an array of well-placed punches and kicks. Logan managed to get up and out of the way. He wiped some blood off his mouth and smiled, then chuckled.

"That's more like it," he laughed coarsely. "Where'd that angry beast come from?"

Kurt, panting hard, shrugged and shook his head. "I…I'm sorry. I don't know what come over me."

Logan walked over to Kurt and patted him on the back. "It's called I pissed yah off, kid. Good job. Let's call it a day, huh?"

Kurt smiled a little, nodded, and wiped his brow. "Sure, alzough I think it's more appropriate to say 'Let's call it a night', considering it's after eleven o' clock."


Kitty was in the kitchen, making herself some sautéed veggies. She felt silly, standing over the stove and cooking, knowing it was so late at night. The kitchen, except for the one light over the stove, was dark, and outside it was pitch black. The mansion felt very big and lonely at night. Kitty sniffed the air. It smelled like oil, peppers, onions, and spinach. Heaven.

I should, like, totally cook more at night, Kitty mused. There was no Bobby hovering over her shoulder, begging for a sample of her cooking, no Logan complaining about the smell, no nothing. Just…peace and quiet.

Kitty turned over her veggies in the pan and sighed contentedly. Just then, she looked out the kitchen window and caught a glimpse of movement in the reflection. She jumped, spun around, and saw two glowing orbs hovering near the doorway. She relaxed instantly. "Kurt?" she asked, pleasantly surprised. "Uh, what are you doing up? I thought you went to be like two hours ago."

Kurt stalked across the kitchen, coming in to the halo of light. Kitty could see he'd been thoroughly beaten—his hair and fur were messed up, his mouth was bleeding a little, he looked bruised. "Danger Room session with Wolverine," he answered her question. "Don't ask."

Kitty shrugged. "I don't think I will," she muttered, leaning forward and wrapping her tiny arms around his chest. "Want some sautéed veggies?"

Kurt sniffed the air, made a pleasurable sound, and nodded. "Mmmhmm. Some protein might be nice, zough. I'm hungry."

Kitty elbowed him playfully in the ribs. "Well, if you want some chicken or whatever, the pans are in that cupboard over there. I'm making veggies."

"Vhy can't you make eet?" Kurt asked in a slight whine. He gave Kitty his best puppy face. Kitty twisted her mouth and raised a delicate eyebrow, unimpressed.

"No. I'm a vegetarian. I don't cook meat."

"But, but you make dinner for everyvone sometimes, and you make meat zen," Kurt protested.

"Kurt," Kitty sighed, "You are perfectly capable of making yourself something to eat. You're nineteen years old."

Kurt took a step back and sat on the edge of one of the kitchen stools. He hung his head a little, as if ashamed. He rubbed one arm shyly. "Uh, Keety, vhat if I told you, uhm, that I don't know how to cook."

Kitty who'd turned around to watch her vegetables, smiled. "At all?" she asked, not turning to look at him.

Kurt shook his head. "Nothing. I don't know anyzing about cooking."

At this, Kitty chuckled, not sure if she believed him or not, and glanced over her shoulder. Kurt looked at her through his thick bangs. He seemed sheepish, ashamed, even. "Like, Kurt, how can you not know how to cook? Didn't your parents ever teach you?"

Kurt's eyes fell. "I don't know. Mien parents never taught me, and I've never really needed to know how…"

Kitty stuffed her spatula in her apron and marched over to Kurt. "C'mere fuzzy," she said, taking him by the hand and pulling him towards the stove. "Everyone should know how to cook—at least know the basics. Now, do you know anything, like how to make rice or eggs or…anything?"

Kurt shook his head. "I can boil vater," he offered.

Kitty stared at him in disbelief. "You are pathetic, fuzzy, and I'm going to fix that. Now, let's start with something easy. What did you want me to make you before? Chicken, beef, eggs?"

"Eggs sound good. No, what about omelets. I like omelets." Kurt smiled widely and Kitty just sighed.

"Omelets? Really? At midnight?"

"Vell, you're making fried vegetables," Kurt pointed out.

"Sautéed," Kitty corrected. "But good point. Ok, let's do omelets, then. Go get me about 5 eggs." She used her spatula to point over her shoulder at the fridge. Kurt wandered off to the fridge to find eggs. He came back with 5 nice, white eggs.

"Great, now get me a tall glass out of the cupboard," Kitty instructed, taking the eggs from him and putting them on the counter.

"Vhy?" Kurt asked. "Vhat does zis have to do vith making omelets?"

"Kurt, just get me damn the glass. I'll explain in a second," she growled, taking her vegetables out of the pan.

Kurt returned with a tall, thick glass and set it on the edge of the counter. "What do I do vith it now?"

"Crack the eggs into it and beat them with a fork."

Kurt didn't move. "What?" Kitty asked.

"How do I crack an egg?" Kurt wondered, seeming a bit overwhelmed.

"You don't even know how to crack an egg?" Kitty cried. Kurt shook his head. "Oh for crying out loud." She grabbed one of the eggs, tapped it on the side of the counter, and let the innards drop into the glass. "There," she said. "Now you try," and she thrusted an egg into Kurt's open hand. Kurt looked from the egg to the glass to Kitty.

"Um," he said.

"Try," Kitty encouraged. So Kurt looked down at the counter and tapped the egg against the edge very gently. It cracked slightly, but didn't break. "Harder, Kurt," Kitty said. "Just don't break it so much that you get egg guts everywhere."

Kurt tried again, and this time the egg cracked open neatly. He held the egg above the glass and pulled the two halves apart, dropping the egg innards into the glass. "Yay!" Kitty chuckled, patting him on the back. "Like, good job, fuzzy."

Kurt smiled to himself. This wasn't so bad.

He managed to crack the remaining eggs and beat them without making too much of a mess. Kitty showed him how to add milk to make it fluffier and made him put it in a pan. "Can you show me how to make pancakes sometime?" Kurt asked as he watched his eggs cook carefully.

Kitty came up behind him and grabbed him around the waist. "Sure." She breathed into his back, feeling his warm fur. "Now test the edges of the omelet to make sure it doesn't burn."

Kurt started mashing up the omelet as if it was scrambled eggs. "No," Kitty said gently, grabbing his arm. She slid her hand down his arm and grabbed his hand with hers. "Like this, silly," she whispered, guiding his hand in the right direction. Kurt smiled down at her.

"Oh," he said simply. Underneath his blue fur, he was blushing madly. Kitty let his hand go and put her hands back on his chest. Kurt tilted his head back and made a happy noise.

"I like zis," he muttered, closing his eyes. Kitty moved her arms up to his shoulders.

"Uh huh. Wanna do it more often?"

"Yes." Kurt nodded quickly. "You're making zis very enjoyable."

Kitty rested her head on his shoulder. "Thanks. Hey, Kurt, I think your omelet is burning," she added, smirking.

Kurt looked down and said, "Oops." He flipped it over and stared at his creation.

"Ah, it should be ok," Kitty said, stifling a laugh. She poked it warily with her spatula. "Eat it. You made it, fuzzy."

Kurt gave his omelet a suspicious look, but put it on a plate and sniffed it. He forked off a little piece and nibbled on it gingerly. "S'not zo bad," he muttered.

"See?" Kitty encouraged. "You're a pretty good cook for your first try."

"You're vay better," Kurt pointed out.

"Don't you forget it." Kurt sat down on one of the stools around the table, and wolfed down his omelet. Kitty climbed onto his lap. Kurt looked at her and gave her a look.

"You're making it hard to eat."

"Why?" Kitty leaned forward, breathing into his neck. She looked at him innocently.

Kurt laughed in resignation. He pushed his omelet away. "Oh, because you're very beautiful and you've put yourself conveniently in my arms."

"So, make me leave," Kitty said simply. She gave him a naughty look. Kurt pulled her to him.

"Nein. Stay. I don't mind."

Kitty, who was really in a mood now, traced a little circle on Kurt's upper arm. "You know, you just ate a lot of food, and I know a good way to burn calories." Again, the shot him the look.

Kurt finally got it and raised his eyebrows. "Oh?" he said slyly. "Zo cooking puts you in zat sort of mood, does it?"

Kitty chuckled. "Yeah." She slid off his lap and walked away. "It's late. I'll be in my room," she said.

Kurt sat there for a moment. "Wow," he mouthed in disbelief. Oh, God, Kitty was in the mood. Cooking put her in a mood. After a second, Kurt gathered himself and got up to leave. On his way to Kitty's room, he thought, I'm gonna need her to show me how to make pancakes one of these days.



Hehe so this was a bit erotic, for me, anyway, but I think it's cute. Hope you liked it. R&R!

-The Ember Raven