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Logan was mere moments away from exploding at someone. His clothes were restricting, there were a million different smells in the air, and worst of all he had to play nice with all the bureaucratic assholes that the X-men rubbed shoulders with.
Xavier had told them weeks prior to prepare themselves to have lots of visitors. They were holding a fundraiser to raise awareness for Genosha and its victims. A cause that Logan could get behind, but he would love to do it any other way.
Shouldering past the crowds of people as gently as he cared to be, he pushed his way into the courtyard. The cool night air was the first unclouded breath he had gotten all night.
The moon hung high and bright in the sky, providing him some company as he sat down on one of the scattered benches. Suddenly, he was very grateful that most everything for the night was happening inside, as the courtyard was unoccupied.
In his solitude, he was able to think back on the night.
The gala had started like any other. One heartfelt speech from Xavier later, and the food and drinks were brought out onto the floor. The smells of too much perfume and fancy finger foods made a sickening concoction for Logan’s nose. That, along with the endless drone of the crowd and silverware clanking and glasses tinking drove him over the edge, and out the door.
The sharp smell of sulfur and brimstone interrupted him from his thoughts. To the average person, the footsteps coming towards him would be imperceptible, but for him, he could hear Kurt coming from a mile away.
“You get tired of dancing?”
A bright chuckle answers his call, and he can hear the joyful thwip of Kurt’s tail.
“Nein, on the contrary. I got tired of not seeing you, liebling.”
Logan felt a warmth rise to his cheeks as Kurt came into view before him. The mutant was wearing a crisp navy suit with delicate swirling patterns of gold on his vest and pocket square. It was tailored specifically for the man, down to the cleft shoes to accommodate his feet. Xavier had all of his X-men specially fitted for the occasion, and while Logan may have grumbled through the whole process, it was the best suit he had ever owned.
“Really? Couldn’t get yer fill of all the beautiful women in there?”
“Alas, none of their beauty compares to that of you in a tux, mein großer bär.”
Logan turned away, trying to hide the steadily creeping blush on his face. His own tux was fit to him perfectly. The only one he had ever owned that wasn’t tight in the shoulders or too long in the slacks. A navy suit that mirrored Kurt's, only his was less ornate. The only pattern on him was the pocket square Kurt had given him to match his own.
“You gotta call me that in public?”
“Of course,”
Kurt exclaims with a flick of his tail.
“How else would I keep the ladies off of you?”
Logan turned back to the taller man and scoffed.
“I’m exactly what these fancy women want, right? A stinking mutant with a violent streak.”
Kurt’s gaze softened as he took in Logan’s words. They both knew it wasn’t all a joke to him. Delicately, Kurt took Logan’s hand into his own, rubbing the wide pad of his thumb over his perpetually sore knuckles. Slowly, as to give Logan time to pull away, Kurt kissed at each spot between his knuckles. Soothing the forever abused skin and massaging gentle circles into the meat of his palm with his adept hands.
“Any lady would be lucky to have you, Schatz. Not that I’d let them, of course.”
“You’re too good to me, Elf.”
Logan says, too low for a normal person to hear.
“Nein, Logan, we are just good enough for each other.”
Kurt shifts closer into his space, and they stand there for what feels like centuries until music drifts into their senses. A waltz, Logan thinks, though he knew next to nothing about music. A pretty thing, airy and romantic, the perfect song to hold your lover close.
“Would you care for a dance?”
“I’d rather not go back in that hellhole.”
“Who said anything about going inside? We have music and the moon to guide us, let us enjoy ourselves here.”
Apprehensive, Logan stood from where he was seated.
“I’ve got lead feet.”
“Last I checked, they were adamantium, no?”
Kurt says with a sly smile that makes Logan want to kiss it off his smug face.
“Hardy har. Just so you know, you signed up for my terrible dancing.”
“I would not have it any other way, leibling.”
With that, Kurt took Logan into his arms, hands sliding around his waist and leading him in a tentative waltz. Logan, in turn, looped his arms around Kurt’s shoulders. The jarring height difference made it less than elegant, but neither party minded.
The moon lit their path along the grass as they stepped and turned, all the while holding each other close. Logan felt almost overwhelmed by it. Not by the familiar scent of brimstone and sulfur, but by the immense love and adoration he felt swelling in his chest.
Here was a man, a godly man, dancing with another who was anything but. Logan was a scoundrel and an animal, yet Kurt still loved, and cared for him like no one else had. He didn’t just love Logan despite his flaws, he loved Logan because he knew how hard he was fighting against his flaws, fighting to be a better man.
The only thing he could do against the raging wave of his emotions was sink further into the embrace, resting his cheek against Kurt’s lapel and listening to the steady thump of his heart.
It was only then that he realized they had stopped dancing, but he found that there, under the moon and the stars held by the one man he loved most, he did not want to part. The one thing he wanted most in that very moment was not revenge for all the people who had wronged him, but to stay, safe, in Kurt’s arms for as long as he could.
“Think anyone would miss us if we ported back up to our room?”
“Nein, mein leibling. I think we could get away with it.”
With a cloud of brimstone and sulfur, the courtyard was empty, save for the moon.