this wasn't him. over and over his heart brayed those words, a constant thrumming reminder in his pointed ears.
(it's not him, it's not him, it's not him--)
and yet... he laughed the same. chewed and chomped on a cigar the same. wore the same kinds of shirts, had the same slight crease at the corner of his eyes where even a healing factor was no match to time's touch shown in crow's feet.
he smelled the same too. that was maybe the worst part for kurt. the sweet, smoky vanilla of cigars and the bright bite of canadian whiskey, the exact same one his logan used to drink.
still drank, if his universe was still standing. kurt didn't know and had long since given up finding out. what was the point when it had been months now here, and before that even longer in that hellscape of the voidland. kurt made peace with it, and then came this logan and his peace shattered.
it was too easy to fall into old habits.
(it's not him, it's not-)
like flirting shamelessly, even if his logan and this one were clueless to what kurt really meant. that was always okay, he didn't think it would ever be more, kurt never got his hopes up that way and he had plenty of ways to distract himself with plenty of other people who were obviously very, very willing.
but this universe felt different. like a new beginning. what was the harm?
so he leaned in, spoke his observation... and then a three fingered hand skated down the man's spine, the excuse for touch coming from the fact that this party was a little crowded in this tiny apartment. they were watching shatterstar show off switchblade tricks, wade being used as the assistant that got stabbed more often than not.
"mm, perhaps. but there is more to that. i am drawn to people who are dangerous... and not complete imbeciles. i like a little thoughtfulness in the risky behavior, a more obvious intent..." this was spoken with a lopsided smile, a smug knowing expression as he watched wade howl from losing another finger.
it wasn't him, but kurt didn't care just then.