Four things Kurt and Logan don't talk about:

1: The sound of German puts Logan on edge, makes him think of wars he's not sure he fought in, makes him think of fear and the kind of edge (rush, thrill) you only get when you're being shot at. He makes a point, therefore, to treat Kurt carefully. It isn't his fault.

"Guten tag," Kurt says, then, "Ah, sorry: good morning."

"Hnf." Logan grunts, and leaves the kitchen.

2: Kurt is sweet and shy and insecure: a young wolf that hasn't grown into his paws, that hasn't yet realized the strong deadly lines it will one day grow into, all wagging tail and big feet and desperate affection. He flinches at loud noises, at crowds, and sometimes Logan looks at him and remembers that there's someone else who's had to run before the hounds.

"You okay?" Logan asks Kurt one day at the park.

"Ja, sure." Kurt lies, and smiles.

3: Sometimes Logan forgets that not everyone can hold their alcohol like he can, and sometimes Kurt forgets that he's not in Germany, and both of them forget nearly all the time who, exactly, Kurt's parents are. When Logan spends a night in the woods with a cooler of beer and a radio, neither of them think it's maybe not a good idea to let Kurt open the cooler and take out his own bottle.

"Can't sleep," Kurt says softly, and it is both a question and a confession.

"Can't sleep." Logan agrees. He helps the boy with the bottlecap.

4: Kurt is different when he's intoxicated. Sharper. Surer. Sweet Kurt, stammering tongue-tied trying-so-hard Kurt falls away, submerges, and what presses up isn't nearly as normal. He runs his tongue around the neck of the bottle, and looks over at Logan with eyes the same color as the fire.

"Elf," Logan tries to say, "are you sure--"

"Nightcrawler," Kurt says, and crawls into his lap.