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earth_367Whirlwind teenage romance.
Tuesday, January 14th, 2025 07:29 pmWho: Emma Frost & Kurt Wagner
When: Early 2018
Where: The mansion and its grounds,
What: Kurt takes Emma on a date.
Warnings: Not really, they're just annoying and flirty.
The sun has gone down, and Kurt is nearly invisible. His edges always fade into shadows, even when he’s not trying to hide. Meanwhile, Emma stands out like a warning sign. The lamps around the school gardens highlight every little angle of Emma’s stark white dress, making sure that no one could ignore her.
A puff of blue-purple smoke and Kurt is next to her. Emma knew he was coming, obviously. Probably sensed it before he even made the decision. He had asked her to meet him at this bench at this time, after all, so it’s not like he’d had any delusions of surprising the unsurprisable. He tilts his head and smiles brightly, fangs and all.
“Ich hoffe, ich habe Sie nicht zu lange warten lassen,” I hope I haven’t made you wait too long. He could speak to Emma entirely in German and she’d just peer into his head and eventually put the pieces together. “But I have a surprise.”
Emma is, indeed, not surprised, simply turning her gaze to Kurt as he appears. The scent of sulfur will never be pleasant, but it has good associations now, making her feel warm and content and drawing up a small smile from her. Gently, her mind skirts along the edge of his, filling in the blanks of the German words she doesn't understand, though she's quick to retract as he says there's a surprise. No point in ruining it for herself.
"Not too long, but I was starting to get bored." She wasn't, really, but it's fun to act put out. Kurt receives a teasingly chaste kiss on the cheek.
"I can let it slide, though, since there's a surprise in it for me."
Kurt holds perfectly still for the kiss as her lips brush against his fur. Emma is taller than him even without heels. “You are as gracious as ever, fraulein. Your patience will be worth it.”
"I'm sure it will be," is Emma's easy reply - this is charming, regardless of what the surprise actually is.
He takes one of her hands in his, and gives it a gentle squeeze. He’s trying to look composed, but the way his tail is moving betrays a not insignificant amount of excitement for what he pulled together. (But of course, he is dating a telepath, so these small physical tells aren’t really that useful to her.) “Are you ready for me to whisk you away?”
The hand squeeze is returned before Emma shifts, going to loop her free arm around Kurt's neck with a smile. His excitement is obvious, but that of course just makes her want to pick on him some. Playing at indecisiveness will force him to wait longer for the reveal.
"Maybe. I don't know. Am I wearing the right shoes for this? Is the dress too much? How does my hair look? What if I break a nail?" None of these are of any concern to her at all, made obvious with how her smile shifts to one more mischievous.
Kurt wraps his other arm around her waist and loosely curls his tail around her so it brushes the back of her calves. “Are you suggesting I would have a critique of Emma Frost’s manner of dress? Sacrilege,” he gasps, as though scandalized by the very thought.
“But if you are worried, you could always hold me closer.” His yellow eyes glint with amusement in the dim light.
Emma laughs, bright and open. "That's the correct answer. Already so well-trained. I suppose I should reward you." Her hand falls away from his so that it can clasp with her other behind the back of his neck, and she looks him over with a discerning eye. She's done well, she thinks - he's handsome and fun, a choice first romance. Ever so slightly, she leans back a little to press into his hand and tail.
"I was going to tease you more, but I'm actually impatient to see the surprise."
Kurt laughs, unselfconsciously delighted. Emma is a lot, but he likes that. He can play the dashing swashbuckler, and she can be the femme fatale. A little bit of fantasy to help them feel normal, even though they’re anything but.
“You can resume your torment when we arrive,” he promises. This earns an incredibly satisfied smile from Emma. His tail curls and pulls her in a bit closer before they are gone. It’s instantaneous, just a fraction of a second surrounded by whirling smoke, heat, and the scent of brimstone.
Pressed close into Kurt, Emma shuts her eyes as they teleport. The sensation is always strange, particularly when there are people nearby and her mental connection to them is cut off, but like this, when it's just the two of them, it's pleasantly disorienting. There they are, on the ground, and then-
And then they’re up high, the highest point on the institute’s roof that Kurt could reasonably set up for a little date. It’s an unused balcony overlooking the water, temporarily furnished with a blanket and a suspiciously expensive looking bottle of wine. Certainly nothing Kurt can afford on his allowance, but he highly doubts Charles will notice for at least a few days. Hopefully.
Emma opens her eyes slowly, letting herself take it all in bit by bit as her hands slip from around Kurt's neck and she turns somewhat to look around. Yes, this was worth letting herself be surprised. Eyeing the bottle of wine and immediately clocking how pricey it is, she turns her attention back to the other mutant, smile broad. Kurt’s returning grin is a little impish; he doesn’t need to read minds to know this gamble was worth it.
"Mr. Wagner, did you steal from Professor Charles Xavier?" She, of course, knows he has, but she desperately wants to hear him say it. This is, quite possibly, the most perfect date ever.
“Do you have any idea how many people give him bottles of wine?” Kurt’s tail wraps around the bottle as naturally as one of his hands, which are busy readying the corkscrew. Maybe there’s a tiny twinge of guilt under the surface, but more than anything, he’s pleased with himself.
“Every important person who visits him brings wine,” pop, the cork is out, and Kurt offers Emma a long stemmed wine glass. (Borrowed, of course. He will at least be returning these.) “And I have never seen him drink anything but scotch.”
"Of course, and ultimately it's just one bottle," she agrees readily.
This is all too perfect. The view is nice, of course, as is the cute little blanket and the private time, but the best surprise for Emma remains that good Catholic boy Kurt has stolen her an expensive bottle of wine. She takes the glass as it's offered, still looking incredibly pleased. Kurt’s tail gracefully tips the bottle to fill her glass, and then his.
"I think he'll survive, but you will absolutely get in trouble. Which, of course, makes this all the more endearing." Her free hand goes to rest across her heart. "Still, I can't believe our sweet, heroic leader can misbehave so terribly."
“Ach,” he waves his hand as if to say it’s nothing, but the observation has him flustered, smiling at their feet instead of Emma’s face. “I will go to confession on Sunday, and when Charles realizes my terrible crime, I will apologize to him as well.”
The moment passes, and he recovers, trying to hide the brief glimpse of a shy boy who knows he’s misbehaved. “What is he going to do anyway? Return me to Germany? He’s already signed the paperwork.”
Emma was too young to drink when she was kicked out, but high society (and stolen sips from her parents) have taught her how to handle a nice wine like an adult, not the teenager she is. She swirls it in her glass, enjoying how flustered Kurt is before taking a small sip. It's nice. He's done a good job.
Allowing the boy to flounder without saying a thing, she lets out a little laugh once he's quieted and leans in to press a kiss to his lips.
"I wouldn't let him send you back anyways. I'm having too much fun." As though she has any control over what her mentor does. "He can't expect us to be on perfect behavior all the time anyways. We're not saints."
Kurt keeps his eyes closed for a moment after the kiss and sighs, content. This is nice. It feels nice to be wanted by Emma, and to know for certain that Charles would never toss him out over a bottle of wine. He’ll be scolded, sure, but he’s not afraid. Everything that happened before he stepped off that plane seems like it happened lifetimes to a completely different person.
“Prost,” he says, then clinks their glasses together. “To our imperfection.”
"Prost", Emma echoes, taking another sip before reaching for his free hand with hers. There's a flutter in her chest, soft and warm. "It's much more fun than the alternative, isn't it? Now, let's sit. I want to enjoy this cute little date." And in saying this she pulls at his hand, gracefully going to take a seat on the blanket.
"You're more than welcome to tell me all the ways I am perfect, though, while we take in the view."
Kurt takes a sip of the wine (he won’t tell Emma that he can’t taste the difference between any wines, especially not which is expensive and which is cheap) and lets himself be pulled. His tail supports him so he almost-but-not-quite floats to sit down beside her, wine in one hand and Emma’s clasped in the other.
“Careful what you ask for, liebling, we could be here all night,” he purrs, leaning in until their foreheads almost touch.
Pressing forward to meet him, Emma does touch their foreheads together, gently carding through his thoughts as she does so. The surface level ones, the only ones she wants to touch right now, are all kind and adoring, which only adds to the warmth she's feeling. To think, only a few short years ago she'd been kicked out of her home and was abruptly on her own.
« There's nothing pressing tomorrow so we've got plenty of time, » she replies in his head, a small smile touching her lips. « I do realize it's a daunting task, though. »
Kurt’s used to people speaking directly into his mind, but it’s a little different with each one. Charles tries to be polite, gentle, but never hesitates to use it to correct Kurt or tell him where he needs to be. Emma is more much like the brush of lips against his thoughts, feathery but not-too-sweet.
At first he forms sentences in German, then rearranges them into English for her. « I think I’m ready for the challenge. Should I start with your eyes, or that time on Wednesday when you managed to catch me with an elbow to the face? » He thinks about that training session to remind her, when he’d teleported behind her just to tease her, but Emma was ready for him.
With a little laugh at the visual Kurt has generously provided her with, Emma leans back to take another small sip of wine, though afterwards she's quick to return to their prior positioning, finding it both comfortable and comforting.
« I do love putting you boys in your places, but I was glad I didn't hurt you too badly. You did look very sweet all disoriented, though.» Kurt’s mind bubbles with amusement, warm but confident that no one can really pin him down. It’s a gentle, affectionate defiance, but one that’s still willing to walk into her trap so long as it’s fun.
It would be a shame to do him any real damage; he certainly doesn't deserve it. What Emma thinks he does deserve, though, is a little something for all of this. For being so sweet and generous. She hums softly out loud.
« Before we get into my other wonderful qualities, though, I realize I never told you I have a surprise for you, too. »
Kurt takes another sip from his glass before handing it to his tail so he can give Emma his rapt attention. His heartbeat quickens. “You have me.”
"Oh, it's not something that requires all that. It's a simple surprise." She leans in for another kiss, her wine-red lips lingering just a little longer than last time before she speaks into his mind once again.
« Ich habe ein bisschen Deutsch gelernt. Really not much. But, an effort is being made. »
Kurt’s mouth, still pressed to Emma’s in a kiss, splits into a grin as the words ring in his head. Their teeth gently click against one another. He imagines conversations with her in his language, easy and free. Or even just a few words, a phrase now and then, a little nostalgia with a new and fascinating person. « I can’t wait to hear you say it out loud. »
But that can wait for later, because in this moment he leans into the kiss, deepening it. One of his hands reaches up to her chin, the broad pads of his three fingers touching her cheek.
« You can help me with my pronunciation, Liebchen. » Which she's already ensured is flawless for the small vocabulary she knows. Emma doesn't like to do things in half measures. Much like this kiss that she's fully committing to as she presses closer to Kurt.
Kurt tries to set aside his wine glass, but it ends up tipping over, spilling maybe $15 worth of wine onto the floor. A twinge of oh no is quickly overwhelmed by the sensation of his lips on Emma’s. Her tongue, her skin, the smell of her perfume. Yes, he could slip away from her and resist the pull, as he’s said many times, but the real delight is just giving in. His tail ties them together as he lets himself be whatever Emma wants him to be.
The knocked over glass of wine causes a laugh to bubble up in Emma, and she momentarily twists slightly away from Kurt so she can down the rest of her own.
"I can't go wasting perfectly good wine like you," she clarifies before taking a hold of his face and pulling him into another kiss. They're really going to get in trouble for this, but she's not about to spoil things by pointing that out.
Kurt has just enough time to laugh before she pulls him back in. His hand runs up her back, feeling the ridge of her spine. When there’s a brief break in the kiss, he moves to kiss the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her chin. “I didn’t mean to be wasteful," he murmurs, “I just prefer you to the wine.”
Another laugh (it's actually been a long while since she's laughed this much, this genuinely) as Emma gratefully accepts all placements of kisses. Although she knows that, even at this age, she's an object of desire, it's nice to be wanted like this, for herself, with all her edges. Confident as she is, there's nothing like external confirmation.
"Well, I suppose I'll allow it. I am much better than wine." She sets aside her empty glass, far enough that they shouldn't disrupt it, and then goes to push Kurt down onto the blanket.
Kurt lets out a little oh! when his back hits the blanket, but it’s hardly an objection. Whatever Emma and the night have in store, he’s ready.
When: Early 2018
Where: The mansion and its grounds,
What: Kurt takes Emma on a date.
Warnings: Not really, they're just annoying and flirty.
The sun has gone down, and Kurt is nearly invisible. His edges always fade into shadows, even when he’s not trying to hide. Meanwhile, Emma stands out like a warning sign. The lamps around the school gardens highlight every little angle of Emma’s stark white dress, making sure that no one could ignore her.
A puff of blue-purple smoke and Kurt is next to her. Emma knew he was coming, obviously. Probably sensed it before he even made the decision. He had asked her to meet him at this bench at this time, after all, so it’s not like he’d had any delusions of surprising the unsurprisable. He tilts his head and smiles brightly, fangs and all.
“Ich hoffe, ich habe Sie nicht zu lange warten lassen,” I hope I haven’t made you wait too long. He could speak to Emma entirely in German and she’d just peer into his head and eventually put the pieces together. “But I have a surprise.”
Emma is, indeed, not surprised, simply turning her gaze to Kurt as he appears. The scent of sulfur will never be pleasant, but it has good associations now, making her feel warm and content and drawing up a small smile from her. Gently, her mind skirts along the edge of his, filling in the blanks of the German words she doesn't understand, though she's quick to retract as he says there's a surprise. No point in ruining it for herself.
"Not too long, but I was starting to get bored." She wasn't, really, but it's fun to act put out. Kurt receives a teasingly chaste kiss on the cheek.
"I can let it slide, though, since there's a surprise in it for me."
Kurt holds perfectly still for the kiss as her lips brush against his fur. Emma is taller than him even without heels. “You are as gracious as ever, fraulein. Your patience will be worth it.”
"I'm sure it will be," is Emma's easy reply - this is charming, regardless of what the surprise actually is.
He takes one of her hands in his, and gives it a gentle squeeze. He’s trying to look composed, but the way his tail is moving betrays a not insignificant amount of excitement for what he pulled together. (But of course, he is dating a telepath, so these small physical tells aren’t really that useful to her.) “Are you ready for me to whisk you away?”
The hand squeeze is returned before Emma shifts, going to loop her free arm around Kurt's neck with a smile. His excitement is obvious, but that of course just makes her want to pick on him some. Playing at indecisiveness will force him to wait longer for the reveal.
"Maybe. I don't know. Am I wearing the right shoes for this? Is the dress too much? How does my hair look? What if I break a nail?" None of these are of any concern to her at all, made obvious with how her smile shifts to one more mischievous.
Kurt wraps his other arm around her waist and loosely curls his tail around her so it brushes the back of her calves. “Are you suggesting I would have a critique of Emma Frost’s manner of dress? Sacrilege,” he gasps, as though scandalized by the very thought.
“But if you are worried, you could always hold me closer.” His yellow eyes glint with amusement in the dim light.
Emma laughs, bright and open. "That's the correct answer. Already so well-trained. I suppose I should reward you." Her hand falls away from his so that it can clasp with her other behind the back of his neck, and she looks him over with a discerning eye. She's done well, she thinks - he's handsome and fun, a choice first romance. Ever so slightly, she leans back a little to press into his hand and tail.
"I was going to tease you more, but I'm actually impatient to see the surprise."
Kurt laughs, unselfconsciously delighted. Emma is a lot, but he likes that. He can play the dashing swashbuckler, and she can be the femme fatale. A little bit of fantasy to help them feel normal, even though they’re anything but.
“You can resume your torment when we arrive,” he promises. This earns an incredibly satisfied smile from Emma. His tail curls and pulls her in a bit closer before they are gone. It’s instantaneous, just a fraction of a second surrounded by whirling smoke, heat, and the scent of brimstone.
Pressed close into Kurt, Emma shuts her eyes as they teleport. The sensation is always strange, particularly when there are people nearby and her mental connection to them is cut off, but like this, when it's just the two of them, it's pleasantly disorienting. There they are, on the ground, and then-
And then they’re up high, the highest point on the institute’s roof that Kurt could reasonably set up for a little date. It’s an unused balcony overlooking the water, temporarily furnished with a blanket and a suspiciously expensive looking bottle of wine. Certainly nothing Kurt can afford on his allowance, but he highly doubts Charles will notice for at least a few days. Hopefully.
Emma opens her eyes slowly, letting herself take it all in bit by bit as her hands slip from around Kurt's neck and she turns somewhat to look around. Yes, this was worth letting herself be surprised. Eyeing the bottle of wine and immediately clocking how pricey it is, she turns her attention back to the other mutant, smile broad. Kurt’s returning grin is a little impish; he doesn’t need to read minds to know this gamble was worth it.
"Mr. Wagner, did you steal from Professor Charles Xavier?" She, of course, knows he has, but she desperately wants to hear him say it. This is, quite possibly, the most perfect date ever.
“Do you have any idea how many people give him bottles of wine?” Kurt’s tail wraps around the bottle as naturally as one of his hands, which are busy readying the corkscrew. Maybe there’s a tiny twinge of guilt under the surface, but more than anything, he’s pleased with himself.
“Every important person who visits him brings wine,” pop, the cork is out, and Kurt offers Emma a long stemmed wine glass. (Borrowed, of course. He will at least be returning these.) “And I have never seen him drink anything but scotch.”
"Of course, and ultimately it's just one bottle," she agrees readily.
This is all too perfect. The view is nice, of course, as is the cute little blanket and the private time, but the best surprise for Emma remains that good Catholic boy Kurt has stolen her an expensive bottle of wine. She takes the glass as it's offered, still looking incredibly pleased. Kurt’s tail gracefully tips the bottle to fill her glass, and then his.
"I think he'll survive, but you will absolutely get in trouble. Which, of course, makes this all the more endearing." Her free hand goes to rest across her heart. "Still, I can't believe our sweet, heroic leader can misbehave so terribly."
“Ach,” he waves his hand as if to say it’s nothing, but the observation has him flustered, smiling at their feet instead of Emma’s face. “I will go to confession on Sunday, and when Charles realizes my terrible crime, I will apologize to him as well.”
The moment passes, and he recovers, trying to hide the brief glimpse of a shy boy who knows he’s misbehaved. “What is he going to do anyway? Return me to Germany? He’s already signed the paperwork.”
Emma was too young to drink when she was kicked out, but high society (and stolen sips from her parents) have taught her how to handle a nice wine like an adult, not the teenager she is. She swirls it in her glass, enjoying how flustered Kurt is before taking a small sip. It's nice. He's done a good job.
Allowing the boy to flounder without saying a thing, she lets out a little laugh once he's quieted and leans in to press a kiss to his lips.
"I wouldn't let him send you back anyways. I'm having too much fun." As though she has any control over what her mentor does. "He can't expect us to be on perfect behavior all the time anyways. We're not saints."
Kurt keeps his eyes closed for a moment after the kiss and sighs, content. This is nice. It feels nice to be wanted by Emma, and to know for certain that Charles would never toss him out over a bottle of wine. He’ll be scolded, sure, but he’s not afraid. Everything that happened before he stepped off that plane seems like it happened lifetimes to a completely different person.
“Prost,” he says, then clinks their glasses together. “To our imperfection.”
"Prost", Emma echoes, taking another sip before reaching for his free hand with hers. There's a flutter in her chest, soft and warm. "It's much more fun than the alternative, isn't it? Now, let's sit. I want to enjoy this cute little date." And in saying this she pulls at his hand, gracefully going to take a seat on the blanket.
"You're more than welcome to tell me all the ways I am perfect, though, while we take in the view."
Kurt takes a sip of the wine (he won’t tell Emma that he can’t taste the difference between any wines, especially not which is expensive and which is cheap) and lets himself be pulled. His tail supports him so he almost-but-not-quite floats to sit down beside her, wine in one hand and Emma’s clasped in the other.
“Careful what you ask for, liebling, we could be here all night,” he purrs, leaning in until their foreheads almost touch.
Pressing forward to meet him, Emma does touch their foreheads together, gently carding through his thoughts as she does so. The surface level ones, the only ones she wants to touch right now, are all kind and adoring, which only adds to the warmth she's feeling. To think, only a few short years ago she'd been kicked out of her home and was abruptly on her own.
« There's nothing pressing tomorrow so we've got plenty of time, » she replies in his head, a small smile touching her lips. « I do realize it's a daunting task, though. »
Kurt’s used to people speaking directly into his mind, but it’s a little different with each one. Charles tries to be polite, gentle, but never hesitates to use it to correct Kurt or tell him where he needs to be. Emma is more much like the brush of lips against his thoughts, feathery but not-too-sweet.
At first he forms sentences in German, then rearranges them into English for her. « I think I’m ready for the challenge. Should I start with your eyes, or that time on Wednesday when you managed to catch me with an elbow to the face? » He thinks about that training session to remind her, when he’d teleported behind her just to tease her, but Emma was ready for him.
With a little laugh at the visual Kurt has generously provided her with, Emma leans back to take another small sip of wine, though afterwards she's quick to return to their prior positioning, finding it both comfortable and comforting.
« I do love putting you boys in your places, but I was glad I didn't hurt you too badly. You did look very sweet all disoriented, though.» Kurt’s mind bubbles with amusement, warm but confident that no one can really pin him down. It’s a gentle, affectionate defiance, but one that’s still willing to walk into her trap so long as it’s fun.
It would be a shame to do him any real damage; he certainly doesn't deserve it. What Emma thinks he does deserve, though, is a little something for all of this. For being so sweet and generous. She hums softly out loud.
« Before we get into my other wonderful qualities, though, I realize I never told you I have a surprise for you, too. »
Kurt takes another sip from his glass before handing it to his tail so he can give Emma his rapt attention. His heartbeat quickens. “You have me.”
"Oh, it's not something that requires all that. It's a simple surprise." She leans in for another kiss, her wine-red lips lingering just a little longer than last time before she speaks into his mind once again.
« Ich habe ein bisschen Deutsch gelernt. Really not much. But, an effort is being made. »
Kurt’s mouth, still pressed to Emma’s in a kiss, splits into a grin as the words ring in his head. Their teeth gently click against one another. He imagines conversations with her in his language, easy and free. Or even just a few words, a phrase now and then, a little nostalgia with a new and fascinating person. « I can’t wait to hear you say it out loud. »
But that can wait for later, because in this moment he leans into the kiss, deepening it. One of his hands reaches up to her chin, the broad pads of his three fingers touching her cheek.
« You can help me with my pronunciation, Liebchen. » Which she's already ensured is flawless for the small vocabulary she knows. Emma doesn't like to do things in half measures. Much like this kiss that she's fully committing to as she presses closer to Kurt.
Kurt tries to set aside his wine glass, but it ends up tipping over, spilling maybe $15 worth of wine onto the floor. A twinge of oh no is quickly overwhelmed by the sensation of his lips on Emma’s. Her tongue, her skin, the smell of her perfume. Yes, he could slip away from her and resist the pull, as he’s said many times, but the real delight is just giving in. His tail ties them together as he lets himself be whatever Emma wants him to be.
The knocked over glass of wine causes a laugh to bubble up in Emma, and she momentarily twists slightly away from Kurt so she can down the rest of her own.
"I can't go wasting perfectly good wine like you," she clarifies before taking a hold of his face and pulling him into another kiss. They're really going to get in trouble for this, but she's not about to spoil things by pointing that out.
Kurt has just enough time to laugh before she pulls him back in. His hand runs up her back, feeling the ridge of her spine. When there’s a brief break in the kiss, he moves to kiss the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her chin. “I didn’t mean to be wasteful," he murmurs, “I just prefer you to the wine.”
Another laugh (it's actually been a long while since she's laughed this much, this genuinely) as Emma gratefully accepts all placements of kisses. Although she knows that, even at this age, she's an object of desire, it's nice to be wanted like this, for herself, with all her edges. Confident as she is, there's nothing like external confirmation.
"Well, I suppose I'll allow it. I am much better than wine." She sets aside her empty glass, far enough that they shouldn't disrupt it, and then goes to push Kurt down onto the blanket.
Kurt lets out a little oh! when his back hits the blanket, but it’s hardly an objection. Whatever Emma and the night have in store, he’s ready.
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