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It was one of those heavy July afternoons when the air at Xavier’s Mansion felt thick enough to touch. Heat shimmered above the pool deck, and the younger mutants had surrendered to the fact that no amount of shade or hydration was going to save them. The only choice was to lean into it.
Jubilee had claimed command of the popsicle cooler and was handing them out like precious relics. Tabitha had commandeered the speaker with a playlist that bounced from pop to punk to whatever chaotic genre that clashed with the lazy mood in a way she found hilarious. Bobby kept making ice cubes float in lazy orbits around people’s drinks. Jamie’s dupes had organized a volleyball match that wasn’t so much volleyball as it was mild anarchy. Amara, of course, looked perfectly content stretched out in the sun, warmth settling over her like a blanket she’d personally crafted.
Kurt stayed by the pool wall, tail swaying idly, eyes drifting to you more than to the water. Five months together had made him comfortable in small ways —his arm brushing yours, the soft smile he saved just for you— but he still carried that shy edge like a shadow.
“You sure you don’t want to come in?” You asked, treading water close to him. Your shoulders glowed in the sunlight, droplets running down your skin. “It’s hot enough to cook eggs on the deck.”
Kurt dipped a toe into the pool. His expression tightened instantly.
“Sehr kalt….” He muttered. “Too cold.”
“It’s not cold.”
Kurt furrowed his brow and stuck the same toe in again, as if suspicious the water might have changed its personality in the last two seconds. Then he pulled it back just as fast.
You laughed, bright and easy, which only made him straighten as if he wasn’t trying to be funny at all.
Jubilee looked over her shoulder. “Kurt? Getting in? What’s happening? Someone write this down.”
Tabitha lifted her sunglasses. “Wait, seriously? Blue boy doesn’t swim?”
One of Jamie’s dupes snorted. “Man avoids the pool like it’s gonna give him homework.”
Bobby looked up from where he was freezing a perfect glossy patch of concrete. “It’s true. I’ve never seen him wet past the knees.”
Kurt’s ears flattened. “I swim. I can swim.”
“You can?” You asked gently.
He winced. “Technically.”
You swam closer, voice soft. “What does that mean?”
He hesitated, glancing at the others before focusing only on you. “It means…..I am not good. My balance is wrong. My tail goes everywhere. I look foolish.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Everyone else makes it look easy.”
You held out your hand. “Then let me help you. If you want.”
He looked at your hand, at your face, then nodded. “Ja. If it is you teaching…I trust you.”
He took it.
The shallow end welcomed him after a fair amount of coaxing. Even knee-deep, Kurt reacted to every small splash like the water was staging a coordinated attack.
“You good?” You asked, biting back a smile.
“It moves on its own….” He said. “The water. It sneaks up.”
From the deck, Tabitha slid her sunglasses down again. “Five bucks says he panics before he gets his shoulders wet.”
“Ten says he teleports out the second his tail sinks…” Bobby countered.
Amara only sighed like the entire spectacle confirmed something she’d always suspected.
Then Jubilee returned with reinforcements.
Bright orange floaties. Cartoon animals on the sides. A matching donut ring.
She held them up proudly. “For safety.”
Kurt stared at them. Then at the group. Then at you.
“I do not need—”
A tiny splash hit his ribs.
He stiffened. “Fine. Give me the….whales.”
Jubilee and Jamie whooped as they fastened them around his biceps. He lifted his arms to examine the result —bright, ridiculous, completely unnecessary.
“For safety….” He announced, no trace of irony.
“You look very safe…” You said, smiling.
He straightened, clearly pleased.
You started simple. Your hands guided his kicks, steadied his shoulders, helped align his limbs. Kurt tried hard —harder than he admitted— and it showed in the tension across his back. His tail, however, refused to cooperate. It floated unpredictably, slapped the surface, then wrapped around your leg in a startled coil.
The two of you nearly went under.
When you resurfaced, Kurt sputtered, “Entschuldigung! Sorry, sorry— it just grabbed you.”
“It’s alright…” You said, wiping water from your face. “Just keep it behind you. Let it follow, not lead.”
He nodded earnestly. For a while, he focused so intently that the group’s teasing faded into background noise.
Then he sank. Slowly. Dramatically.
“Kurt—”
He extended one hand toward the sky like a tragic actor.
“Kurt.”
He let out a pitiful gurgle.
You swam straight to him, catching his shoulders. “Are you actually—?”
He blinked up at you, perfectly fine.
You exhaled sharply. “You’re unbelievable.”
From the deck, Jubilee shouted, “He’s faking it!”
Jamie chimed in, “He wants attention!”
Kurt offered a tiny, unapologetic shrug. “Maybe.”
Eventually, the others drifted to food and shade. Music pulsed softer. Sunlight stretched longer across the water. With the noise fading, Kurt’s shoulders lowered a little.
He floated beside you, quiet. “I do not like being clumsy….” He said. “Not in front of you.”
You moved closer, your voice warm and even. “You don’t have to be good at everything. You’re learning."
He glanced up at you, uncertain but listening.
“You’re doing better already….” You said. “Your arms are steady. Your breathing’s good. And your tail— here.”
You reached back gently, guiding the tail into a straighter line. The muscles twitched beneath your touch.
“Let it move like part of the stroke….” You said. “Not something extra you’re dragging.”
He tried again. Something changed. His movements steadied, rhythm settling into something natural. Kurt swam a short, smooth line through the water.
When he surfaced, his eyes were bright. “I did it!”
“You really did.”
“Did you see?”
“I was right here.”
He floated toward you, cheeks warm, eyes soft. “Danke…” He said quietly. “For being patient. For teaching me.”
“You only faked drowning, what, eight times?”
“Five…” He protested.
“Eight.”
His smile tilted, shy and warm. His fingers brushed yours underwater, a silent question you answered by leaning in.
The kiss came slowly, almost cautious at first, then deepened into something sweet and confident. Water shifted around you both, the sun warm on your shoulders. It felt like the kind of summer moment meant to last.
Then a sharp whistle cut through the air.
“Get it, Fuzzy!” Jubilee called.
He froze. Then blushed. Then muttered, “Nein, nein, nein—”
A puff of sulfur and blue heat wrapped around you. In the blink of an eye, the world snapped into shade and quiet.
Behind the pool house, it was cooler, the hum of music now a distant thump. Kurt still held you close, arms firm around your waist. His hair had fallen into his eyes; he pushed them aside with a soft laugh.
“They will tease me for years….” He said.
“Probably.”
“And you… you will not stop them.”
“Not a chance.”
He let out another breath. “May I…?” He didn’t finish the sentence.
You brushed your hand against his jaw, guiding him in. The second kiss was different —no audience, no interruptions. Slow. Intentional. His hands steadied on your waist. Yours curled at the back of his neck. He kissed you like he’d been wanting to all day.
When you finally pulled apart, he stayed close, forehead resting against yours.
“We should return….” He murmured. “....before they think I teleported us to another state.”
Back at the pool, the teasing resumed immediately, but Kurt didn’t shrink from it this time. He stepped right into the water and showed off with a flourish that wasn’t skill, exactly, but enthusiasm. Bobby splashed him. He splashed back. Jamie’s dupes attacked in numbers. Tabitha shouted something that made Amara sigh again.
Somewhere in the chaos, Kurt’s tail coiled around your waist and tugged you under with him. You surfaced laughing, his grin wide and triumphant.
The heat didn’t matter. The teasing didn’t matter. The floaties drifted away and sank somewhere near the deep end.
What mattered was summer, and laughter, and the feeling of his hand finding yours again beneath the surface —steady this time, not afraid.
A good start for someone who swore the water was out to get him.