Todd collapses against the body beneath him, his breath hot and ragged against Kurt's ear. Once he regains enough sense, he removes his hands from the other's jeans, absently noting that one was warm and sticky.. he lazily wipes it on the grass and sighs contentedly, swimming in the afterglow of a powerful climax. As reality hasn't quite kicked in yet, he doesn't stop himself from nuzzling the fur on Kurt's neck--something he'll probably kick himself for later, the soppy twit. He feels wonderful. Wonderful and warm. And sexually satisfied, which is the best part, oh yes.
Kurt gives a shuddering sigh as the last traces of those powerful waves wash over him. He relaxes totally, falling back to the soft grass like some ragdoll, utterly spent and totally content...for the moment. The rational part of his brain is fighting its way back through the haze of lust, making its stubborn way to the surface, but he ignores it in favor of running a hand through Todd's soft hair, equally as stubborn and determined to make this warmth and comfort last as long as possible. He wraps his arms around Todd, gentle in contrast to their frenzied movements of mere moments ago, then realizes with a start that his other hand was still wet; there's now a sticky smear on Todd's jeans. Kurt curses under his breath, and belatedly wipes his hand on the grass.
Todd could almost fall asleep like this, with Kurt's arms wrapped around him, their breaths even and relaxed. Never in any of his fantasies did he consider how it would feel after the deed was done. It was like being high, only it was natural, and--let's face it--the events leading up to it were far more exhilirating than puffing some weed. Heh. And now silly notions are entering his head, comparing Kurt to a joint and whoa, the mental images accompanying the thought of smoking said Kurt-joint sure are disturbing. He smirks, closing his eyes and letting feelings of sleep wash over him, clouded mind mulling over random thoughts of nothing in particular. Life is good. Until he hears Kurt mutter something, that is. Immediately, his eyes shoot open and he looks around, as if just NOW registering exactly what happened. His comfortable haze is shattered, transformed to awkward silence as he wonders what he should do now. Should he say something...? 'Was it good for you' briefly comes to mind, but that would sound stupid, and besides, a lump of panic has wedged itself into his throat. Lovely.
Kurt starts at the movement, and looks up to see Todd's eyes darting around, filled with surprise. He swallows, throat suddenly dry. Ice begins to form in the pit of his belly, slowly overtaking the precious warmth that lingered there, and his rational mind finally claws its way to the top, barking a triumphant laugh. He stares at Todd, transfixed by his gaze. His mouth's working, but there's nothing to say, what kind of words could one possibly find for this situation?! The only thing that comes out is a strangled whimper.
Todd blinks, eyes looking at everything but Kurt. "My sentiments exactly, yo," he chokes in response to the whimper. He carefully disentangles himself from the mess of limbs, very aware of every accidental touch. They burn his skin; not in the delightfully fervid way experienced only moments before, but as a reminder of that experience and the utter immorality of it all. He sprawls out on the grass next to Kurt, entertaining the idea of just getting up and leaving when a sudden cool breeze hits where sudden cool breezes shouldn't be. "Fuck," he mutters, buttoning his jeans, glaring at the mess they made on them. He sighs, half of him wishing Kurt would just teleport away, the other half... utterly lost.
Kurt moans dejectedly, and squeezes his eyes closed as if to shut out the reality of the entire night. He doesn't want to see Todd, doesn't want to be reminded of the feel of that beautiful body when there are so many things keeping him from having it again. Idly, he rubs the back of his neck, and casts his gaze to the forest's soft floor, unable to meet Todd's eyes, afraid to see them mirroring his own fear and nervousness, or worse, his self-disgust. His every instinct screams for him to just teleport the hell out of there, but he shudders to think that it'd be interpreted as a rejection. Which it would be, but he suddenly can't stand the thought of hurting Todd, not over this. He realizes random tears are still dripping down his cheeks. He opens his mouth again, tries so hard to say something, anything...it doesn't work.
Todd sighs; the silence is deafening. He sits up, idly pulling at blades of grass, gaze falling on the discarded shirts about a foot away. He grabs them, pulling his own over his head and tossing the other somewhere in Kurt's general direction, still intent on keeping his eyes fixed on anything but the other boy. "Um," he begins, uncertain. "I guess.. I should go now.."
"Wait-" the word's out of Kurt's mouth before he can stop it. His gaze shoots to Todd; he ignores the pang he feels on seeing that Todd's now fully clothed. Desperately groping for words, he runs a hand through his hair, fingers twitching. He doesn't want to say it, but knows that whatever the outcome, they can't just walk away tonight. "What...what just happened, exactly?"
He finally looks--or rather glares--at Kurt. If expressions could talk, Todd's would be saying, 'what the fuck? Are you dense?' "What, you needa rundown? Did you have your eyes closed or something? Fuck." He averts his eyes again and my, the grass is looking mighty interesting... There's a pang of guilt gnawing at his gut for being so short with Kurt, but damnit, he's feeling just as confused and angry with himself, and what better thing to do than take that anger out on your worst enemy, right? /The enemy you all but screwed a few minutes ago./ He desperately shakes his head, trying to clear that thought...
'That's what you get,' crows a cold, cruel voice in the back of Kurt's mind. 'You expected anything better from your worst enemy?' He growls, tells his conscience, or whatever that was, to shut the fuck up, can't you see I'm busy? and clenches his fists, irritable. "I'm not talking about, about-THAT. Mein Gott, why in hell-" he buries his face in his hands, shudders. "We have to...what happens after this? This isn't something we can just forget." 'Not that I'd want to,' he thinks, ignoring the guilt the thought brings with it. Suddenly embarassed, he snatches up his shirt, pulling it on roughly.
Todd runs his fingers through his hair and draws his knees to his chest, groaning as he buries his face into his jeans. At once, his nose is filled with the scent of sex and he pulls back, stomach tight, eyes staring heatedly at an ugly white stain near his crotch. "Look," he sighs, settling his gaze on Kurt, trying to look as calm and controlled as possible. "Does anything have to happen after this, man? YOU know it shouldn't have happened, and I DEFINITELY know it shouldn't have happened, so why the hell CAN'T we just forget about it..?" As if it was so easy. Christ, what happened tonight is permanently burned into his mind, but he can at least pretend to forget about it for the sake of rivalry, right..?
Kurt is almost on the verge of responding 'What if we don't want to? To forget, to keep being rivals, to go on fighting and arguing over causes that sometimes don't even feel like ours...' Something inside of him is burning, a sickly, destructive shadow of the fire they'd just shared. He suddenly feels ill, and wants nothing more than to be away from here. Already this place is a vicious reminder of what may be his only time...He wishes he could think of it as nothing more than a horrible mistake, but a part of him stubbornly refuses to believe something that felt that RIGHT could be so very wrong. His gaze again falls on Todd, but he looks away quickly, praying Todd didn't notice the desperate pleading he's sure showed in his eyes.
Todd waits for a response, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with each second that passes. When he sees Kurt glance at him, though, he winces, mistaking the look in those golden eyes for regret. With a sigh, he stands up, self-consciously hugging himself, and makes his way towards the wall, ready to be rid of all this drama. But he stops and looks over his shoulder, apology etched into his features. "Sorry.." he mumbles. "None of this woulda happened if I hadn't gotten stoned, so.. just don't worry about it. Blame it on me and the drugs or something, 'kay?"
Such a simple solution, so easy Kurt's sorely tempted to take it. But he made the decision long ago, that the blame wouldn't fall on one or the other, and it certainly wouldn't fall solely on the drugs. After all, Kurt was anything but stoned, though most likely nobody would believe his actions without that as an excuse. The sudden impulse to jump up and grab Todd's arm strikes him, but his body refuses to act on it. "It's not that easy, though I dearly wish it was. I made the choice, as much as you. Perhaps moreso," a bitter smile crosses his lips. "At least you were 'under the influence', ja? If either of us should have known better, it was me." He sighs, frustrated, runs his (relatively) clean hand through his hair again. "Look...if you really want to just...forget it...that's fine. No one will ever know. But..." he hesitates, chewing at his lower lip fretfully, "I just think we need to...take some time. Think about all this. That's all."
Todd nods, remembering that he HAD given Kurt the opportunity to teleport away... not that any time wasn't opportune for someone with teleportation powers, but that was beside the point. The fact that Kurt didn't go meant that he must have really wanted it, and that thought both thrilled and frightened Todd at once. On one hand, someone actually WANTED him--HIM, for pete's sake--not to mention that it meant he probably had some 'mad skillz' in the pleasuring department, yo. On the other hand, however, Kurt was, well, KURT: a.k.a. Nightcrawler; noun - fuzzy, blue-furred, MALE member of the ENEMY group. Jesus. And yet... here he was, watching Kurt speak with that beautiful German accent he could have sworn he hated an hour ago, watching Kurt run one of those skillful hands through his hair, watching Kurt watch him with eyes that were filled with hunger and lust not so long ago.
Todd blinks, realizing the other boy is now the one waiting for a response. "Uh...yeah. Yeah, man, we'll think about it" /in the shower and right before I go to bed, yo...fuck/ "and we won't let it happen again, right?" Nervous chuckle. "I mean, not that it would, dawg...'cause this was just a-a thing, you know? Yeah." Face, meet palm. God, what an idiot.
Something wrenches deep in Kurt's gut at Todd's last words. It can't happen again, it just CAN'T, for so many obvious reasons. But damn it... 'You WANT it to happen again, don't you?' that snide part of his brain chides, and it's his own voice dripping with contempt and embarassment. He wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his tan pullover, fights back a sniffle, disgusted with himself all over again. "Yeah. ...Yeah, it wouldn't happen again...of course." It feels like someone's taken a particularly heavy gauge of sandpaper to his throat, and he's horrified to hear his voice crack slightly.
Todd smiles, though it isn't genuine. "Good," he says--almost whispers--and clears his throat. "Good. So..." so... what? He looks at Kurt wiping his eyes and frowns. Was it supposed to be this difficult? The more he stalls, the more he wants to stay; the more he wants to stay, the more he knows he NEEDS to go or else this'll end up opening up another can of worms entirely and he just doesn't wanna go there. Not now. /Shit, not ever./ Something in the back of his mind disagrees, however, because somehow, emotions got involved here, and when emotions are involved... who knows what the hell will happen? "So... see you at school?" he ends, lamely.
Kurt can't manage a response. Somewhere along the line his throat closed up completely, making breathing difficult and speaking impossible. Hating himself for even entertaining the thoughts he's having now (as much for the futility as for the immorality of it all), he takes one last look at Todd. It's a look filled with need and longing, hurt and anger. All but the last are things one should never show to an enemy, he knows, but he can't bring himself to care about showing weakness, not now. Showing little of his usual gymnast's speed or grace, he gets slowly to his feet, turns, and walks away with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed.
Todd opens his mouth, but no words come out. What more could be said..? He heads in the opposite direction, leaps to the top of the wall, and glances back. "..see you at school, yo," he sighs, jumping down to the sidewalk below. Once on solid ground, he doesn't continue forward, instead leans against the wall, slowly sinking down. /Idiot,/ he scolds, banging the back of his head against the concrete. /Stupid--/ bang /fucking--/ bang /idiot./ BANG. "Ow.." Digging into his back pocket, he fishes out the bag of weed and glares daggers at it. "Fuck you," he says, but the pot doesn't respond, thankfully. He frowns; if Lance ever finds out that he stole (/borrowed without asking!/) some of his stash, he'd kick Todd's ass to the moon.. and if he ever finds out what Todd did while under the influence of said stash, well.. Todd doesn'twant to think about that. Instead, his thoughts try to piece everything together--what happened, why it happened, how he feels about it, and what should happen from here. His conclusion? "No. Fucking. Clue."