You paused in the doorway of Kurt's room, barefoot on the cool hardwood, new piercing still throbbing faintly under your tongue like a second heartbeat. The metal barbell was small, surgical steel, unremarkable to anyone who didn't know where to look—or what it could do. You'd gotten it on a whim two days ago in the city, telling yourself it was just another small rebellion against the endless parade of danger and duty. But the truth sat lower: you'd imagined his face when he saw it. The way his golden eyes would widen, then darken. The way his tail would flick once, betraying him before his mouth ever caught up.

You didn't announce yourself. You never had to. He always knew when you're coming.

A soft bamf of displaced air, sulfur-sweet, and suddenly he was directly in front of you; close enough that the warmth of his body kissed your skin before his hands did. Those three-fingered hands hovered at your waist, respectful even now after months of learning every inch of you.

"Liebling," he murmured velvet-rough, that faint German lilt curling around the word like smoke. His eyes dropped immediately to your mouth. "You are home early. I thought the Danger Room session ran until—"

You didn't let him finish. Instead you parted your lips just enough, tongue sliding forward deliberate. The silver glinted in the light.

Kurt froze.

A genuine, full-body stillness, like someone had hit pause on every impulse except the one that made his pupils blow wide. His tail uncoiled from his ankle and rose, swaying gently behind him like a question mark made flesh.

You watched the progression across his face with something like hunger: the quick flare of nostrils as he caught your scent, the way his ears twitched forward. The soft click of his own fangs against his lower lip when he swallowed.

"Mein Gott," he breathed, almost reverent. "When did you...?"

"Yesterday." Your voice came out huskier than intended. The new barbell clicked faintly against your teeth. "Wanted to surprise you."

His laugh was soft, disbelieving, edged with something darker. "Surprise is... one word for it." He reached up and brushed the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open wider. The touch was almost worshipful. "May I?"

You nodded.

He leaned in. The heat of him wrapped around you like a cloak. His tail brushed your calf, then curled loosely around the back of your knee, anchoring without caging.

His tongue touched the tip of yours. Exploratory. Curious. The metal barbell met him first, cool against the wet heat of his mouth, and you felt the full-body shudder that rolled through him. A low sound escaped his throat, muffled against your lips.

When he finally kissed you properly it was slow, devastatingly thorough. He mapped the new piercing with careful strokes, testing weight, shape, temperature. Every time the metal dragged across his tongue he made a small, helpless noise that sent heat pooling low in your belly.

He broke the kiss only to trail his mouth along your jaw, down the column of your throat. "You have no idea," he whispered against your pulse, accent thickening with want, "what this does to me."

You slid your fingers into the thick fur at his nape, tugging just enough to make him hiss. "Think I might have some idea, elf."

Another soft laugh against your skin. "Wicked thing." His tail tightened around your leg, pulling you closer until your hips met his. He lifted his head, eyes molten gold. "I have been trying," he said, voice rough, "to be good. To be... patient. But this—" His thumb returned to your lip, pressing the piercing gently against the soft inner flesh. "—this is unfair."

He backed you toward the bed without ever breaking eye contact. When the backs of your knees hit the mattress he guided, until you were sitting. Then kneeling between your thighs, looking up at you like a supplicant at an altar.

"I keep imagining now..." He trailed off, cheeks darkening beneath the fur. Shy even now. "...what it would feel like. Lower."

The confession hung between you, heavy and electric.