Co-worker Aimee gave me a free ticket to the Mid-South Fair, YAY! I love the fair. It doesn't really have anything TO love, but it's fun to just go every year, hanging around until well into the night, weaving through the crowds and enjoying the lights and sounds. I think I'll wander through Libertyland Amusement Park, it's usually much more empty by the time night rolls around, and very soothing in the dark.
Now...FICCAGE! Horrible ficcage but ficcage nonetheless.
Title: The Best Moment of His Life
Fandom: X-Men: Evolution
Warnings: SLASH, character death, angst-o-rama
Notes: Written for the contrelamontre
challenge this week, to write a fic starting with the line, "This is not the worst moment of his life." Written in, for the most part, the hour and fifteen minute deadline ^_^. My angst muse is back with a vengeance. This sucks, but Bridgie seemed to like it, so meh ^_^;;.
Summary: What could be worse than death?
Disclaimer: Closest-thing-to-bishounen-America's-got Kurt and the lovely and amazing Toad-Boy belong to Marvel, the WB, and probably bunches of other wonderful peoples. So do anyone else mentioned herein. I don't own them, I'm just a klepto who intends no harm and will return them when I'm done. Please dun hurt me.
This is not the worst moment of his life. Okay, so the pain is reaching the level of unbearable. Myriad massive bruises, cuts, and scrapes are decorating his body, each one resonating agony at its own unique pitch. He thinks his ankle is broken, fractured at least. The thick metal cable coiled around his neck isn't helping, either.
But hey. He's seen worse.
"Hey man, you okay?"
"Just...just forget about it, man."
"Dude, we've been hanging out a while now, but I'm not quite at the read-your-mind-and-finish-your-sentences level yet. I do know something's wrong-"
Frustration wells up in his throat, slowly choking the fight out of him. It's been too long. Too many months of suffering through class, devoting all his energy to not staring. Too many late night sessions at fast food joints, laughing and talking and forcing down the mad impulse to lean across the table and silence those lips with his own. Too many accidental touches, hand brushing against wrist, fanning a queasy fire in his stomach and making him wonder if his fur's that soft all over his body.
"-I just don't know what-"
Too long, and he can't take it anymore.
"I'm in LOVE with you! Okay? THAT'S what's wrong, fool!"
Kurt stares at him, mouth hanging open slightly (those lips begging to be licked, kissed), seemingly unable to speak, and the fear and dejection rises up in Todd's stomach. He turns, prepared to leap away, and is stopped by a warm hand around his wrist...
"Do you ever think about how this will all end?"
They lay on the dew-damp ground, staring out over the cliffs beyond the mansion, surrounded by dark sky, dark ocean, bright pinpoint stars. A perfect night for contemplation; just not the kind one wants. "How what'll end?" Todd asks, knowing the answer.
"The war." Kurt's response is calm, quiet, his voice a warm haze and eyes focused on the endless water, which isn't Todd. "The fighting's getting worse. No one wants to admit it, but Magneto's raising the stakes, and doing it quickly. I'm afraid...we may have to do a lot of growing up soon. Too soon."
Not knowing what to say, he remains silent, only watching the boy beside him, whose delicate jaw is traced with starlight and whose blue fur is covered in a light sheen. When Kurt speaks, he jumps slightly.
"I don't want to lose you, Todd."
His eyes grow wide for a moment -hearing that he's wanted still surprises him, even after all this time- then it's his turn to contemplate the sea, that isn't Kurt. "Hey man, nobody can kill the mighty Toad! He's all-powerful and all-knowing and...uh...all that other shit. Yo, you got nothin' to worry about." A false bravado taints his voice, transparent as the bottles of water beside them. There's more to be said...they lay back in silence, and stare at the stars till dawn breaks the horizon.
Eager hands run through fur, nails scraping delicately at the skin beneath. Lips close over lips, sucking greedily, small fangs nipping and tongue caressing and the world is reduced to heat and sweat as hard flesh rubs against hard flesh. Todd buries his face in Kurt's hair; it's silk on his skin, and he's surrounded by the scent of raspberries.
"You smell so fucking pretty," he whispers, voice hoarse, between moans. A soft chuckle and the bliss of soft fur on the most heated flesh are his reward.
"All right, no more Kevin Smith movies for you."
"Hey man, you okay?"
Kurt turns to him, and his eyes are glazed. "Uh, yeah, fine. Just feeling a little sick, That's all." He wipes the back of his arm across his forehead, matting the dull fur with sweat. His hair frames his face awkwardly, hanging limp and dry.
Todd frowns. "Yeah, you look fine..."
Whatever he was going to say is cut off abruptly, as Kurt sways on his feet for a moment, hands clutching at his head, before falling to his knees with a groan. His golden eyes roll back into his head, and he pitches forward, hitting the ground with a painful 'thump'.
"Kurt?!" Todd's heart implodes in his chest as he leaps to the boy's side, and begins to scream for help.
"It's bad, Charles."
The big guy, their former teacher, and Kurt's beloved Professor are in the corner of the lab, voices soft in respect for the sacred nature of all medical facilities. Todd wants to tune them out. Instead, he stares at the figure on the bed, and listens as closely as possible.
"Whatever Lensherr did to him, those experiments in his infancy...His genetics are a mess. I can't even uncover the problem, let alone how to fix it."
Kurt tosses a little in his sleep, brows drawn in pain and lips parting slightly to bare perfect fangs. Todd wishes he had something long and sharp to jam into his ears.
"Charles...I'm afraid the boy doesn't have much time."
Todd reaches up, grabs Kurt's hand, and doesn't let go.
The man known as Magneto hovers before him, cape fluttering menacingly behind him and eyes barely visible underneath the dark helmet. He guesses he should be flattered. Magneto's going to take him out personally, which is really more than he'd expected. Behind him Todd sees the redhead, screaming something. He tunes her out; he always hated her, but in this moment she feels like a sister, bound to him by their shared loss, hers new and bleeding, his old and scabbed over, picked at until raw. He smiles to himself, secure in the knowledge that she'll take Mags down, her and the X-Men.
The ones that are left, anyway.
Spots are starting to dance in his vision. The cable around his throat tightens agonizingly, and he gasps futilely, grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut against the pain. This isn't what Kurt would've wanted. But hey, life isn't exactly fair, right? Don't always get what we want, no one knows that better than him. He's losing it, coherent thoughts becoming harder and harder through the dark fog settling over his mind, his vision. Everything goes hazy, save for a mental image, a warm face with smiling golden eyes and a gentle grin, innocent but with a hint of fang promising some mischief. A hand appears out of the darkness, and Todd grips it, running his fingers through the fur he missed so much, and smiles his first true smile in months.
Death is not the worst moment of his life. In fact, it just might be the best.