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Sometimes, it felt like there was an actual demon inside of him, desperate to get out. A white-hot ember of infernal nature and burning hunger that woke, sometimes, when he least expected and set his innards on fire from the mid-point outwards. He could feel it clawing at his lower belly, reaching up into his chest; Kurt always knew the moment it started, and he always--always--tried to ignore it, as if pretending it wasn't happening would chastise the beast enough to send it back into whatever deep-buried cage it usually lived in, lurking in the depths of his soul. It never worked that way, and he knew it, but he always tried first by turning a blind eye to the problem. He didn't want it to be there.
But it was, and eventually it would boil up in the shell of his body to such a degree he couldn't ignore it any longer, or pretend nothing was wrong. When it got this bad, he felt like he couldn't trust himself around other people; his whole mind was clouded with the voraciousness he couldn't place, some kind of emptiness, some dark terribleness moving in his gut, at the zenith of it all he found himself looking at the people around him with thoughts of judgement. This one would do. This one would not. Kurt didn't want to find out what they would do for, so when it got to that point, there was only one conclusion he could stomach. He called in a substitute for his classes and sequestered himself to the dark privacy of his suite at the mansion, door locked against outside intrusion. He probably should have been spending the time in prayer, but his heart was too restless, crowded in on all sides by the razor grin of the darkness inside him, and instead Kurt found himself literally crawling up the walls, using the blank expanse of the ceiling for an acrobatic routine that ended up being more stiff, aggressive motion than anything else.
She'd knocked several times before she phased in through the door like a breeze, but Kurt had ignored her too, hoping that she'd get the hint and go away with the understand that he was sick, that there was something dangerous about him that he didn't want to inflict on anyone else, much less Kitty of all people. Not her. Not her. Not the warrior-Queen of everything worthy in his heart.
Yet there she was, now, standing in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips. He should have been invisible in the darkness of the ceiling's corner, but Kitty always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to his position. She was looking straight at him, straight into his eyes, and he worried if she let her bore her gaze too far down she'd hit the well-tap of the creature he'd been trying to conceal all this time. He felt it surge up against his breastbone at the sight of her.
"Kurt." She called to him, and the sound shot straight through him, an arrow fired deep and downwards until it buried itself in his carnal core. It chased the damned fire into the last holdout bastions of his extremities and he felt his blood rush out afterwards, pooling in the sensitive parts of his body and causing a riotous chaos of tingling, firing nerves. "Kurt," Kitty said his name, and his mouth went dry, tail flickering against the ceiling in a series of sounds that seeme far too loud to his ears. "What on earth do you think you're doing up there?"
He had to work his tongue against the edges of his own fangs to get enough saliva on his mouth to speak. When he did, his voice came out in a low, dusky growl, like the edges of that firey darkness were coming out in flares and embers wrapped around his words. "Katzchen, I...I didn't want anyone...to see..I am sick. I needed some time...I will be better soon enough, but you should...should go."
Kitty laughed. She laughed as she moved towards the bed, reaching up with one slender hand to turn on the white string lights which surrounded its posts, and he thought he might just immolate there, on the ceiling, from the sound of it alone. "You dork." She said, all affection, and looked up again to regard him now dappled in patches of visibility from the faint light shining up from below. The light shaded in through her hair, loose around her shoulders, and Kurt found himself at a loss for all words at the sight. She was so beautiful. And here he was, with the very core of his ugliest facets nearly on display for the whole world. He couldn't let her... "You're not sick. You think I don't know what's going on? I've known you for years, I've seen when you get like this, and I've seen you not let yourself tend to it. I just haven't been in a place where I could help with it before. Come down here, we can change that."
She sat down on the edge of his bed and looked up at him expectantly, her fingers already reaching to pull the hem of her shirt up towards her head, revealing a thin and growing strip of skin starting at her waist, at her muscular stomach that rippled with every breath she took, breathing his same air...
She was the lodestone and he was nothing more than an iron filing. Before his mind had even started to formulate some excuse, some reason why she should leave and leave now before the damage became irreparable, he'd jaunted, traversing the space between ceiling and floor with the quickest efficiency he could manage. He appeared a few inches from the bed and she was good enough not to comment on the smell of the bamf cloud as she started to undo her pants. She worked them off of her hips with slow, swaying motions of her body and each one of them felt like someone had taken hold of the arrow her voice had shot into him earlier and was trying to pull it free. Tug, tug, tug. He couldn't concentrate on anything. "Katzchen, I..."
"Hush." Kitty chided, and she looked up from her task to meet his eyes. Her bangs shaded one eye and made her expression both impossibly alluring and impossibly wicked, her smile soft and not showing any teeth but full of the kind of promise that stirred the beast within him to a frenzy. She made a shallow arc of her back, displaying her small, proud breasts against the lace trim of her bra, and she was all at once shrouded in a halo of holy light, her skin soft and flawless in the dim light. Forget concentration, Kurt was beginning to feel as if he couldn't breathe, she was so...so... "Come to me, Nightcrawler. Don't be afraid."
She called to the animal living in his skin and it answered her, before he could stop it, surging forward towards the bed. She reached for him, that knowing little smile still played tantalizingly over her features, and he found himself capping his mouth over it like he could consume the emotion itself, pull it inside of himself and let it burn a different color than the antimatter flame that had caged his heart and held him captive. His hands went to her hair to tangle with its loose waves, feeling the sleek texture of it tangle with the fur between his fingers. She broke the messy kiss for air and instead brought his face down to her collarbone, allowing her to use her tongue and teeth against the pointed line of one ear. Electricity lashed along his veins, down from the places she made contact with him, and he realized suddenly, with a shuddering intake of breath, that he needed her.
The hunger that had built up in him until it had consumed everything else he'd been, it was for her, it was the desperate drive to taste every flavor of her, to feel her breath in his mouth and her sweat in his fur, to be surrounded and completed and contained by the delicious reality of her body. He needed it, like breathing, and he felt his heart lurch at the realization, because it would mean tainting her, ruining her simple, easy perfection with this terrible thing inside of him. He told himself he had to go, to jaunt, to pull away, but what he found himself doing was growling into the skin of Kitty's bosom as she slipped his clothes off, out, through him and dug her fingernails into the raised fur along his spine. She drug them deep into his skin to the base of his tail and the growl turned into an almost helpless cry of wanting, his fangs clipping against the edge of her bra.
He leaned upwards, pressing his naked body against her nearly-naked one, working his teeth in gentle nips up the line of her throat. He smoothed his hands down through her hair, tracing the outline of her form until he found himself with his fingers tucked against the flow of her ribs, working the frustratingly simple and frustratingly stubborn clasps on her bra to free her from it. It was material immaterial, and as soon as it sprang loose Kurt pulled it free of her and tossed it to the side, desperate to feel the soft yielding flesh and the hardened nipples dragging through his fur. He pressed Kitty against the bed, gently but firmly, and his tail slid along the inside of one leg, twining along her underwear until he could jerk it free of her--maybe tore in the process, he couldn't even think enough to check, not when he could feel the wet heat of her own wanting slipping against the spade of his tail. Every fold of her was familiar, to scent and to touch, as he explored her again as if for the first time, coaxing her body to open up.
Kitty arched up against him, knees sliding against the outside of his hips, and her hand slipped from the base of his tail forward, scorching fire and need in the path of his fingerprints. She found his arousal, so ready for her it almost pained him, and she danced her touch along it, smoothing along its tip and curling her fingers first against its length and then its girth. It leaped in her hands and Kurt shivered every time her skin drug along his, voice rising higher and louder with begging need as she teased him. Every time he thought he could not want her more, his body rallied to find a new height of aching, a new blinding level of desperation, until he found himself rolling his hips into her palm just for some tiny sense of relief that would never, never happen with her so far from him. "Katzchen, Katzchen, Ich..."
But she already knew what he couldn't even find the words in German to articulate. Lifting her free hand to brace against the back of his neck, Kitty changed the angle at which she laid, tilting her hips to give him the room he would need to enter her. She nudged his tail away from its attentions and instead pulled his seemingly superheated manhood close. Burying her face in his hair, she gave her own growl of words he couldn't bring himself to understand, and drove herself upon him with one motion...
Oh.
Oh.
It was like going home. It was like something had finally gone right in an entire lifetime of wrong. It was like this was exactly, exactly the remedy he had needed, and that nothing else he could have ever tried would have soothed him. He felt the heat that had been driving him gather downwards, drawn to her, and he felt her body shiver around him, and he was lost. He couldn't save her from himself. He couldn't even apologize. All he could do was move in her, gripping at her body with both arms, and hope she would forgive him later.
But she coaxed him, dragging her fingers along the lines of his taut working muscles, pressing her body upwards against his as they moved in rough tandem, plucking at his ears with her teeth and fingertips, taking the tip of his tail into her mouth to clean her own taste off of it. Kurt's entire world narrowed down to the sensations he shared with her, the sound of her voice hiccuping his name in breathless gasps every time he buried himself in her.
When she reached for him, trying to pull him impossibly closer with both hands, denting the muscles of his back as she cried out into the muffle of his shoulder, and the sweet, welcome heat containing the wildness of his being began to shift and shudder--it was too much. It pulled at him and he complied with his own voice trembling. The savage dark flame that had filled him to the brim poured outwards as he poured himself outwards, surging through Kurt and into Kitty and... and...
and that warm glow he had always sensed around Kitty didn't flicker. It didn't die. Instead, she took the beast from him and tamed it. She took the darkness deep within herself an sanctified it, made him holy again with the censer of her love and the sweat of her body. She purified him, made him whole, made him someone he recognized as himself again.
That, as much as the thunderous, fading echo of what had passed between them, was what took his breath away.
Kurt draped himself over her gently, made almost dizzy with relief and spent, delirious happiness. Kitty laughed quietly, bringing her hand up to twist her fingers through the sweat-soaked fur at the base of his neck, just below the place it transitioned into heavily curled hair. "You silly, sweet elf." She murmured to him, the fondness making her voice so full he thought it might burst, "How could you have gone this long and not known...? How could you be that worldly, and think..."
He laughed, shaking his head, and shifted a little so that he could pillow the side of his face against her breasts. For a moment, he didn't have any answer but a quiet sigh. "Because I did not have the remedy, meine Liebe. How could I have known? All I knew was a hunger for something I could not seem to find, could not have."
She laughed to echo him, and Kurt's heart was drawn in further, down into some deep inscrutable depth. He knew in that moment, as he never had before, that there would be no living without her chiming laugh, her gentle touch, her impatient patience.
He needed her.