Erik will climb up to cloudy blue eyes and a look of utter bewilderment on Charles' face. He's never had that much of a feedback before. It makes him more than a little loopy as he wraps his free arm around Erik's shoulders and lets him sweep him off of his feet and into that kiss. Charles can taste himself on Erik's mouth and makes him groan deep within his throat.
He's pliant for a while, satisfied, completed. His fingers happily sliding under the elastic band of Erik's briefs and then over his erection, sucking in a short breath through his nose at the velvety feel of his skin. Charles' hand is probably the most annoyingly teasing thing in the history of Erik's sex life. He doesn't go right for the strokes, but instead feels his way around, exploring.
It gives him time to calm his own breathing from frenzied gulps to something a little quick but doable. It gives him time to grasp at the ends of his own mind and bring himself to heel. It gives him time to push Erik onto his back and urge him quietly to undress his briefs. Once he has - and Charles has no doubt that he will - he breaks the kiss and leans up on one elbow and gives Erik a curious look, studying his body from face to his toes, admiring, trying to memorise every sharp angle, every nook and cranny, every beautiful sculpted detail of Erik's body.
"There's a metal container in my bag," he tells Erik with the first real strokes he gives him, practically petting his cock as he turns to look at Erik's face, from the tip to the base as the length snuggles against taut abs. "A round one with Vaseline inside. I'd like you to get it for me," he says softly as he leans in to kiss Erik's jaw.
Erik almost begs Charles to touch him, to bring him off. He's been waiting, and everything feels so tightly-wound, and Charles is taking way too long to appreciate when Erik just wants to promise that he can do that later. All he wants. Just later, maybe when Erik is spent and lazy and doesn't want to peel himself away from the bed. Later, when he's rested from the morning activities and he'll want to get them to their next destination quickly so he can take as much of the night as he wants to try and coax those sounds out of Charles's mouth that he's quickly gaining an addiction for.
As soon as he opens his mouth, Charles cuts him off. Charles cuts him off with that, and Erik's brain short-circuits for a second. Charles brought vaseline with him? That's what's in the small metal tin? Wait, Charles wants to fuck him even though he'd just-- and oh, oh, he finally gets it. The message goes straight to his cock, which gives a little twitch as his jaw goes momentarily slack. With a wave of his hand, the bag is unbuckled and the little tin comes over and drops onto the pillow by his head.
He curls his fingers into Charles's hair and pulls him up so he can look Charles in the eye, just trying to make sure this isn't a dream. When he's again satisfied that it's not, he uncaps the little tin and generously dips his fingers inside.
There's a brief lapse in Charles' thoughts humming through Erik's mind because he has to reel back when he realises where Erik's thoughts go. The difference in their experience comes to a stark contrast when Charles buries his face to Erik's neck to hide his own surprise.
He hadn't thought about fucking. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Vaseline would have been great for giving Erik a good long handjob because he's more than a little dubious about his own skills for sucking him off and he'd love to give Erik something to enjoy after all the pleasure he just gave Charles.
But surprisingly, he doesn't want to correct Erik's misguided thoughts at all. Not only because Erik reacts to it so strongly, not even because he finds the idea of connecting with Erik like that fascinating and exciting but because there's that part of him that has been thinking about it. What it would feel like?
When Erik pulls him up there's arrested apprehension in Charles' eyes, but no fear, just nervousness and excitement. He reaches for the Vaseline and scoops up some onto his palm while he leans in to kiss Erik. His hand is careful as it spreads the slick on Erik's cock and starts stroking, slow but sure, from the cut tip to the very base with even strokes. He's not worried that this game will come to an end because Erik will come. Charles has him by the short and curlies, and he's not going to be shy to drag Erik back from the brink of an orgasm. It's a game he has played several times and knows exactly how to do it.
Erik misinterprets him entirely, thinking all that apprehension is just from the fact that... well, he's never done this before. And honestly, neither has Erik. But if Erik had any questions about whether or not Charles agrees with him, all of those dissipate before fully forming thoughts when Charles wraps a hand around his cock.
He spreads the vaseline around his fingers and toys with Charles at his entrance, but keeps getting distracted when his skin lights up at every single stroke. Eventually he presses in, just a single finger, and he doesn't know if he'll make it all the way this morning the rate that Charles is driving him to the edge. Erik bites back a whine as he tries to open Charles up on one finger and then two; he's impossibly tight, even with a liberal coating of slick. But even if Erik comes in Charles's hand, he tries to please Charles on his fingers, making a scissoring motion and trying to read his face on how he'd like to be touched.
He can only make guesses from the way Charles's hand is around his cock, but Erik could let Charles play with him all day long if he could. If only he would ask. Right now, there's something more important on his mind.
"You alright?" he asks, curling his fingers forward out of habit more than anything. He doesn't want to hurt Charles, quite the opposite, but he's heard bits and pieces of stories where it was unpleasant to be penetrated like this. "Show me," he requests, because he wants to know. He wants to be sure of every single sensation that Charles experiences. He worries Charles's lower lip with his teeth and asks to be given permission to see it.
The first slick touch to his entrance has Charles gasping and hiding his face on Erik's chest. It feels strange, alien, too intimate, even more so than Erik's mouth on his cock. His cheeks are flaming and he tries to relax. There has to be something about this that is pleasurable because so many people do it.
He focuses on Erik's thoughts instead, they pull him firmly into second-hand arousal and he doesn't even notice when he starts to rock back against the gentle touches on his hole. Nerve endings alight, it actually feels pretty damn good and when Erik pushes in one finger he is surprised to find it doesn't really hurt but feels like something he's never before experienced. He yanks up his head and sucks in a sharp breath, not sure what to do with the intense feeling that the initial penetration gives him. It feels like he should do something, anything. And yet he doesn't know what. His hand pauses for a moment as he tries to get comfortable with the strange sensation that is waking up his whole body in a way that feels incredibly strange and incredibly something.
When Erik moves his finger, the burn presents itself and Charles gives a soft whimper, burrowing deeper into Erik's arousal hazed mind to grasp onto that, his hand moving again, this time in time with Erik's own. And somewhere in all that, between him thinking this is never going to work and listening to Erik's thoughts about how tight he is, it starts to feel good, a desire for more suddenly emerges and Charles isn't really sure if he gave Erik the idea or if Erik just went for it on his own but the stretching is back with two fingers this time. Again, Charles is leaning his forehead on Erik's chest and rushing out breaths that mist Erik's skin. It's awkward, so incredibly awkward and kind of hurts too. But there's that hunger somewhere in there, too, insatiable thirst for something more. It's hard to imagine how Erik could ever fit into him but at the same time the thought makes Charles push back against those fingers, wanting and needing.
It's incredible how this close to a blinding orgasm, his body is suddenly humming with so much desire again. Desire and nervous awkwardness, because it's definitely not all good. Fitting too big pieces in him. Erik asks him if he's alright and Charles murmurs something, kind of ready to give up. But then those fingers curl and something inside him lights up, a rush of something warm spiking. Suddenly it doesn't matter that it feels awkward because that one spike of pleasure has him pushing back against Erik's fingers with a whimpered plead. "Oh god, Erik, do that again, please." He knows his own hand is stuttering, his rhythm breaking, most likely giving Erik more frustration than he deserves. But Charles does what he asks and opens his mind, everything, showing Erik how it feels to have two fingers stuck in his ass and occasionally brushing against his prostate.
Erik doesn't quite catch his murmurs, but he figures that they're not particularly good, and he almost does stop; he doesn't want to hurt Charles at all, though he can't really tell if he's experiencing pleasure or pain. Maybe he should've saved this for a little later, he thinks, but he also doesn't want to make it into some big thing. And he wants Charles. Maybe selfishly so, because he knows Charles can read his thoughts and his thoughts must be abundantly desiring and dripping with intense lust. He has an idle intrusive thought that maybe Charles is only going along with all of this because Erik wants to, because Erik wants him, because Erik.
But then, there's no real way around misinterpreting what he says, and Erik blinks as he tries to figure out what he meant. "Oh. This?" he asks, again hooking his fingers forward and catching Charles's lips briefly with his own. He gets lost, a little, in all of Charles's thoughts. And he-- understands; his fingers feel a little invasive from this end of the thoughts, like somehow it's partially the physical action and partially the uncomfortableness from the level of intimacy. He feels exposed, which is silly; they are exposed and he's not even the one getting fingered. But then he gets a more explosive sensation, and he gets it. He does it again. And again, and again...
Erik has so much fun watching Charles react that he almost forgets what his aim is here, and as soon as he feels confident that Charles's body has adjusted, he adds a third finger. He thinks he may call the whole thing off, once he does. Charles is so, so impossibly tight, and Erik doesn't have very much left in him. He thinks that if he even manages to properly fuck Charles, he'll get three thrusts in and then make a mess.
He asks Charles, mentally, if that's what he wants. He can't put it into words, he just has thoughts. Maybe they could resume this later? And for now Charles can finish him off and Erik can maybe see if Charles's body will let him come a second time or not. But he presses his cheek against Charles's, loudly wondering what he wants to do, because whatever it is, that's exactly what Erik wants too.
It's like he's a marionette doll and Erik is the string that pulls him. Charles yelps every time a finger brushes against that hidden place within him, his ass clenches and unclenches, his whole body shudders with each touch and he honestly doesn't know whether he's crawling away from it or pushing back to it.
Of course, of course sex with Erik would be like this. Everything else with him robs Charles off his breath and his senses. Why would this be any different?
Charles is still a little disoriented from the whole experience. He never thought he'd end up with something inside him today, fingers or anything else. He doesn't have the presence of mind to regret or congratulate himself. All he has is this very moment, this very moment and the sensations Erik is whipping him with.
The question, wordless as it is, is met with fierce refusal. They've come this far, Charles wants to see it to the end. Mess or not. He might even be relieved if Erik doesn't last very long. But he also wants to take some of his control back, which means he pushes on Erik's arm, wiggling away from his fingers before he throws one of his legs over Erik and pushes up to straddle him. His thighs are already trembling, the blue of his eyes almost completely swallowed by the black of his pupils but there's something very determined in the way he scoots backward until Erik's cock is pressed against the cleft of his ass.
"We'll go slow," he says with a voice that has plummeted at least an octave or so, ragged with arousal. He chews his own red mouth as he reaches behind him and lifts his hips. It takes a bit of adjusting, trying and trying again to find the right angle. And then Erik is pressed against his entrance and Charles sucks in a breath. Because he's big, this was the worst idea he's ever had, it's not going to fit...
But it does, somehow it does, and while only the head of Erik slips inside him, Charles is whining at the back of his throat, trembling as he pauses there, the intensity of the sensation completely gripping him and god he wishes he could stop shaking because then he'd get used to it and not trash from one tremble to another but no dice. Stretched, impossibly full, aching with the burn that he already associates with this.
Eventually he'll have to lift himself off of Erik and lean forward to rest for a moment against his chest. "Give me a s-second..."
Erik doesn't know what he's expecting, but he's not complaining when Charles climbs on top of him and tries to come down. He's gorgeous like this, from down here looking up at his thighs and his torso and his sea-storm dark eyes. Erik sucks in a breath through his teeth, hand on Charles's chest holding him there like he's carved of marble from a master artist. He still think that second part might be true, looking up at Charles in complete awe.
When Charles guides him in, Erik feels-- he tries so hard to control his hips, holding himself down. Charles is incredible, which Erik vocalizes in the form of groans and half-formed words slipping out of his mouth. His eyes roll back and he gets a dazed, lightheaded feeling, pulled back to earth only by Charles's hesitation. He knits his eyebrows and worryingly rubs his arms, moving his way up to Charles's neck. "Take all the time you want," he whispers. "I told you, I don't want to hurt you."
He grows more and more concerned, that maybe they're rushing things. And though Charles feels so good-- Charles feels like his body was made for this, bespoke with Erik's name on him-- he would gladly give it all up if he could be sure Charles was alright. From here Charles's trembles and shakes feel harder than they look, and Erik's wildly conscious of them in juxtaposition to his own body calming down. "Come here," he beckons, fingers slipping into Charles's hair.
Erik stills himself and still feels uneasy, but doesn't know if just pulling out will hurt him more. "Forget this," he adds, finally, "We can try again later." He tries to sound reassuring about this, gently smoothing out Charles's hair and looking up at him with pleading eyes.
It's exactly because of Erik's worry and his gentle eyes that Charles wants to do this and excel at it. There's a certain look that only Erik Lehnsherr knows how to give him and Charles melts from inside out without a care in the world when those blue eyes look at him like that.
"N-no," he says with a soft chuckle. "I want you inside me," he says with a hint of playful air about his voice, playful and oh so raw, eager. He promises, wordlessly, that he's not hurting, just unpractised.
He takes a moment to answer every last of Erik's little kisses, the gentle touches to his hair. He noses along Erik's cheek and then reaches down to position Erik at his entrance again. The angle is not the best as he insists kissing Erik's jaw and his chest while he leans back and takes the head of Erik's cock this time a lot easier.
The stretch and burn return with gusto, the intense sensation of being penetrated makes Charles rush out a moan after moan, his brows furrowed with concentration and hand shaking on Erik's chest. He realises that being on top might never have been a really good idea. He probably would be over the discomfort already if Erik had been taking care of the movement - something to consider for the next time.
He pushes himself up then, and with an exhale sinks onto Erik's cock, his eyes going wide and body shuddering at the intense sensation of being filled to last of his inches. "Oh god," he mutters, jerking up and then sinking down again, forcing himself to get used to the sensation. The second time he lifts himself it's no longer a jerk but there's something needy in the motion, pleasure tickling somewhere in between his hipbones.
Erik trusts Charles, really, but he just seems so shaky, and yet Erik never forgets that Charles is in control, and Charles knows his own limits. Erik admires that about him; he's strong and strong-willed to match Erik blow for blow. Here he is outmatching Erik, causing him to throw his head back and let out deep, guttural moans hiding somewhere in the pit of his stomach and being forced from him. He tries to get ahold of Charles by his thigh, digging his fingers in deep, lost in the motion of the rock of his hips.
He could stay like this endlessly, hearing the mattress creak underneath their weight, bathed in pale sunlight streaking in from gaps in the drawn curtains. At this very moment, Charles is the most beautiful thing that Erik thinks he has ever seen with his eyes, glowing and shaking and alight with the streams of light that hit his hair and his shoulders just so.
When Charles becomes more comfortable, Erik joins him by arcing his hips, slow at first but then carried along by the almost involuntary roll of his own muscles driving away as a machine does. "Oh Charles," he echoes, trying to muffle his own sounds as the people around them might be starting to wake up and take notice if they're too loud. But in his mind there's a chant, just Charles's name on repeat like it's a prayer, like Erik's lost his mind and it's the only thing that he's retained.
It's almost a surprise to him when he comes, and the only warning he can manage is to tap Charles on the elbow. There's a sharp gasp, a low keening noise, and Erik suspended in a state of a numbing bliss for what seems to him like both an eternity and over within a matter of seconds.
Even after, lying there as if in shock, he feels like static electricity.
"Come here," he says, finally, and this time with more insistence.
It's a bizarre feeling, being seated so deep in Erik's mind, kind of like Erik is seated inside him physically. They mirror each other in this too, and Charles finds himself echoing Erik's groans and moans with his own, feeling the second hand pleasure wash over him with each thrust of Erik's hips.
It's not a physical release for him when Erik comes but it's enough to be on the ride with him, feeling himself spill over the edge with Erik. The keening moan that Erik lets out is like a string attached to his gut, tugging and tugging until there's nothing but white heat and his hands on Erik's chest, his hips coming down hard and relentless.
Charles is suspended on top of Erik, shuddering, watching him with wide eyes and then Erik's voice, ruffled with sex and throat deep, calling him in. Charles gives a noise like half a sob, half a moan, and slumps forward, onto Erik, burying his nose on the crook of Erik's neck.
"N-needless to say I've never had sex like this," he mutters while he tries to catch his breath, cheek against Erik's chest, listening to his heart beating.
"Good," he says, voice a hoarse whisper, hand on the back of Charles's head to keep him there where he is, head buried against Erik's neck and warmly breathing in his afterglow. It's one that won't quit, putting Erik into a sort of buzz, gives him a luminescence. He plays with Charles's hair, combing out the ends at his nape where it's a bit sweaty.
"We should get clean," he remarks finally. "We've got a long day ahead." He turns his cheek against Charles's , sliver of his lips somewhere giving him a very technical, very easily-missable kiss. He, too, would love to stay the whole day and bask, then repeat. But they came here to do a job, and he doesn't want them to arouse any suspicion. In fact, he's already planning on how they can buy a few more days, call in at a payphone and tell the CIA that their vehicle is a little out of order, or maybe Charles decided to drive for a bit.
Erik can make it look convincing.
He just wants a few more stolen moments with Charles before they go back. Even though they were essentially given free reign through the day, there was hardly any privacy and it was easy to sneak up on your coworkers and fellow teammates. No, he's thinking they could weasel their way out of being laughed at too much for being mutants, but not this.
This, he'll have to keep secret in his heart, only open when it's sure it's the two of them together, safely tucked away from other minds. They might get good at it, Erik thinks. Or careless. Either way, it's a lovely fever to burn, this new flame. "Come," he says, half-heartedly patting Charles's thigh as the only movement he makes to get up. "Let's get up."
Erik surely had the stamina of a monster, because Charles is barely gaining his bearings when he's already getting up. He pushes up a little, cheeks still flushed with heat and stares down at Erik for a moment silently.
"No afterglow, huh?" he asks a bit teasingly.
But he's not letting Erik get away with it quite that easily. He presses a hand onto Erik's chest and moves to slip Erik out of his body finally, a soft whimper on his lips at the friction. He can feel the burn inside him and it'll be quite a pain to sit in a car for the rest of the day but he'll live.
He leans down to catch Erik's mouth in a lingering kiss, his clean hand curling around the man's prickly cheek. Idly he wonders how red his face will be, if the beard burn will disappear quickly or not.
"Fine," he finally murmurs as he breaks the kiss and slowly shifts to roll off Erik and stands up. Only, his legs are trembling so much it's hard to stay up, so he sits down onto the edge of the bed. "Well then..."
Erik grins and says "We'll have an afterglow next time. And there will be a next time, I can't wait to do this again," he says, smiling, biting his lip despite himself. Charles could not be more attractive to him at this moment, hair messed up and with his cock still buried more than half a foot up his ass. And oh, will his cock miss Charles's body around it for the whole drive ahead; he'll have to resist pulling over and finding a tall cornfield to hide them in.
He's still thinking about it when Charles stumbles to get up, and Erik reaches out to steady him. He can't help but feel a burst of pride at this, knowing he's made Charles go all wobbly-legged. "Around my shoulder," he says, lifting Charles's arm and trying to pull him back up. He takes the opportunity to steal another kiss, though it's a shorter one, not as lingering or languid as the one he was just offered, but nonetheless affectionate. Charles is so perfect in this moment, Erik has a hard time trying not to have his afterglow anyway.
Instead, he starts the tap, so that it'll be warm by the time they step under it. He looks at Charles adoringly, which is not something he could even attempt to hide. Feelings bubble up in his chest, and he wonders if Charles can read them. It makes Erik feel a little exposed and a little vulnerable; he's always been able to keep how he feels under wraps. Now he feels like an open book, waiting to see if Charles will be riveted or stick him back on the shelf.
He can't read Erik's feelings. But he can put in a few really good educated guesses based on his thoughts. He's still lingering in Erik's mind, so everything is a little exposed to him. To be completely honest, he should ask Erik if that's fine or not. Because it's not like he has to linger in Erik's space all the time. He just likes to do it. One could even compare it to an addiction if they were mean enough.
When Erik wraps his arm around his own shoulders, Charles lets him hold them up, both of them while he searches his own legs, laughing against Erik's mouth like he's not done since he was a teenager, completely intoxicated on the sudden rush of affection that floods his mind.
"As often as possible," Charles admits his own desires easily, holding onto Erik as they start to move towards the bathroom.
But he doesn't leave it at that. He can definitely read the vulnerability from Erik without being able to sense his feelings. Erik's thoughts tell him enough. He pushes back the thought silently, making the distinction be seen. I wish I could show you how you make me feel, though. It's beautiful.
Erik feels a great swelling in his chest at this, even though he knows Charles is technically cheating a bit, but it's still what he needs to hear. He helps Charles get into the shower first, and follows him after, shutting the door; it's a bit of a crowded space to fit two grown men, but Erik doesn't mind the proximity.
He lathers up Charles's chest first, and spends most of his time trying to get Charles clean. It's pretty obvious that he can't keep his hands off, even if he's feeling more affectionate than passionate. That's a slightly different story when he cleans between Charles's legs and his fingers touch where it's still sticky and viscous. He couldn't hide his cock's reaction if he tried.
Still, he doesn't try to escalate this into more than just cleaning them off, mind still buzzing happily and body still aching a bit of tiredness. He might need a short nap before they leave, but for now he's fine. "I want you to know you're incredible," he finally admits out loud. "Everything about you," he finishes the thought with: is just perfect for me.
Charles follows Erik's lead by stealing the soap from him when he's managed to build up a good lather on his chest and goes to do the same on Erik's. It's really an excuse to feel him up. But it's a useful excuse nonetheless. Charles' hands are hungry for the touch, dipping into valleys between bones and muscle, learning the flat planes of Erik's body. Finally he takes a bit of shampoo into his palm and works it into Erik's hair. This requires him to reach up and tilt his head quite distinctly. It might also be the reason why he presses a soft row of kisses to Erik's jaw while foaming up his hair.
When there are inquisitive fingers between his legs, Charles gives a soft whimper but doesn't push Erik's touch away. He trembles at the pleasant ache that Erik has left behind but no, it doesn't urge him to resume what they were up to before the shower.
Since they are exploring here, he takes his soapy hands finally to Erik's cock and the sack beneath, encouraged by Erik's exploring hands he also washes beneath. At least until Erik is speaking up and Charles tilts his head back to look at him. His cheeks were already flushed but now more colour rushes to them.
"Thank you, Erik," he murmurs with a smile that might seem a little shy for a little while and arches up to kiss Erik's mouth. Because he can easily continue without the use of his mouth in the process. I've never experienced anything like this. Not just the obvious or the less obvious telepathy but something else. This is amazing. You are amazing.
Typically, Erik likes to clean up by himself, or clean up with his partner and then resume cuddling, maybe go out and get some fresh air on the balcony or the porch or something. But he just wants to be in Charles's presence, taking up his space and his mindspace, massaging shampoo onto his scalp, getting him all lathered up.
If Charles kisses him anymore then they'll both be a little weak in the legs, but he doesn't care about that really. It's the idea that Charles feels free enough to show off his gifts, that Erik does to do the same. It's the feeling that, even if they didn't know the other was a mutant, there would still be a spark of attraction. And it's knowing that, regardless of where this goes, they are friends. They are friends who trust each other, who live in synchronicity, and who now draw breath together.
Something about that makes Erik feel lightheaded in a way that he knows isn't just the steam.
"Thank you, Charles," he says against his lips, and pulls him in for a deeper kiss. They might not leave the hotel at this rate, and might not even leave the shower until they prune. Still, he doesn't speed up the process, he slows it down. He wants to remember all of this. Yet, he peers at the window and tries not to heave a sigh, it's definitely already late morning (well, late as far as Erik is concerned), and they need to get a move on. They haven't even eaten yet; they might have to go through a (he shudders to think) drive-through.
"You'll have to feed me later," he explains. "And we'll have fast food wrappers all over the car."
Charles never thought it could feel like this, to be with someone the next morning. Usually he's the one rolling away with hurry and eagerness to put distance between them, but no, he's right here, pressing tightly against Erik as they kiss, deepening the liplock as he best can. Part of him wonders if this is the rush that lovers feel in those novels Raven reads. If this is how falling in love feels like.
But for once he doesn't want to overthink it, either. He just wants to live it. All of it.
Erik is alone in worrying about the trip. Charles honestly has forsaken all thoughts about responsibility. It doesn't happen easily, either. The idea of returning to the world is distant and quiet. He knows it'll come and they'll do it together. But for now, he's still with Erik in a misty shower and very little else matters.
"What a horrid fate awaits us," he says, teasingly while pulling Erik under the spray of water and for a moment rendered quiet while he helps the foam to rinse away from Erik's hair and his body.
"You know I could help that a little with..." he says after they both are rinsed clean and lifts a few fingers up, wiggling them in a very disgraceful way of describing his powers. "We can have whatever you want and I'll have them prepare it for us and we can just go in and pick it up, leave. It'll be quicker than drive through."
Erik thinks it's a ludicrous way to use his powers. A total waste. Absolute abuse. But he grins at the novelty of the idea, of how Charles could honestly make anyone do his bidding at any time. Right now, Erik would do it out of his own free will, he's so enamored with Charles. Erik looks so fond of him in this moment, eyes shining and mouth quirked upwards. "Alright," he says. "We could just call ahead and pick it up, but if you insist on doing it your way..."
He offers Charles a few more lighthearted kisses and then rinses himself off a final time, before stepping onto the bathmat. One of them has to be a responsible adult, and that's probably going to have to be Erik. He doesn't mind; it's very strange having someone else around but he's managed fine his whole life.
He'll let Charles enjoy the rest of the shower as he gets himself dressed and starts packing up all their things for checkout, which is-- Oh, wow, which is way quicker than he had imagined. No wonder he's so hungry for breakfast.
Though he wanted to return and be there waiting with a warm towel to wrap around Charles, he instead zips up their suitcases and does another sweep around the room, shouting that he'd be downstairs checking out with the key but he'd be back up to carry everything and that Charles should take his time. Inside he's, of course, thinking that Charles should hurry it up, but he tries not to make it too obvious.
The moment didn't get to last too long, but there will hopefully be countless others...
Charles doesn't take that long to follow Erik. He might be a little slow because his back is developing an ache and his legs are still wobbly but he tries to keep up, because he knows that Erik wants to get going as fast as possible. He dresses up and packs his bags but doesn't leave right away.
Instead he takes a moment to locate a cleaning lady. They're already making their rounds. He pulls her in with his powers, has her strip down the bed while he chatters with her about everything and nothing. Then they take away the cot together. No one needs to be gossiping around about the fact that the cot was never used and there are some stains on the sheets.
Once he's done with that, he follows Erik to the car and hefts his bag into the trunk.
"Nice weather," he says with a smile as he squints at the sunny sky.
Erik opens his mouth to distract the maid but then is left with it still agape as he watches Charles work his powers and get them out of a questionable situation. After she's gone, Erik steals a kiss from Charles to offer a thank you to him, and then goes to check out while Charles gets in the car.
When they're all ready to leave, Erik is still looking at the hotel, a little fondly, much more than he did when they pulled in. He'll always remember this place as their spot, the one where he realized what he felt for Charles. "Beautiful day for a drive," he replies, and then gets into the car and shuts the door; it already smells inside from the sun shining on the leather interior and trapped in by the windowpanes.
He takes Charles's hand when they peel out of the parking lot, and his mind gives a content hum like a persistent machine running background processes. Usually so good at keeping his emotions locked inside, he can't help but have his whole face light up. He and Charles are trapped in a car for at least the next twelve hours of solid time being in each other's company.
"We should stop here on our way back," Charles says as he slips into the car. He too gives the hotel one last fond glance. It will go into his memories as a place of happiness.
Charles slips in a lot closer to Erik today, pulling his hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles when they're firmly off the parking lot. He pulls one of his knees up to the bench between them and leans his elbow onto the back of the seat while entangling is fingers with Erik.
"The adult in me says we should talk about it," he says as they have settled to a good driving speed. "But I'm thinking maybe we should stop and get some coffee and breakfast first." A high chuckle says that he's feeling awfully relaxed and good, smile never leaving his face.
"Coffee and breakfast sound good," Erik replies, scoping out a nearby place with his mind. "But what do we need to talk about?" he asks, a hint of concern in his voice. After all, he thinks things are going smoothly. Like do they really need to... talk? Discuss boundaries, or definitions and labels, or... how they feel? Erik doesn't really think they need to do that, and the only other thing is that Charles might think they're going too fast, or that this whole thing is a mistake.
No, Erik thinks to himself. That's not what Charles thinks, this wasn't just some spur-of-the-moment decision that he regrets.
He holds Charles's hand tighter anyway.
He thinks, I like you. He thinks, there's a good chance I will love you someday. He thinks, I don't care if you feel or don't feel the same about the future. I like what we have right now. You're incredible, he thinks. Frustrating, brilliant, captivating, and incredible.
Well, interestingly Erik pretty much covers it all in one breath. And Charles is left staring at him with his mouth twisting into a ridiculously sunny smile.
"I see," he says after a moment and then dissolves into a high, amused laughter, his head tilting back for a moment because this is just awfully easy and he doesn't know if he's supposed to be afraid of what that means or truly happy for it. He fails to feel any future dread though.
"I think you pretty much expressed everything I wanted to say. Thank you, Erik. Though, you are more familiar with this sort of situation than I am. I've only ever had this kind of dalliances that I had no desire to continue. Yet, I would loathe a thought that this would be the last and only time we managed to enjoy each other like that."
He tilts his head to rest upon his palm as he keeps looking at Erik's profile with a disgustingly sweet smile. You make me happy. I truly hope I can make you happy, too.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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He's pliant for a while, satisfied, completed. His fingers happily sliding under the elastic band of Erik's briefs and then over his erection, sucking in a short breath through his nose at the velvety feel of his skin. Charles' hand is probably the most annoyingly teasing thing in the history of Erik's sex life. He doesn't go right for the strokes, but instead feels his way around, exploring.
It gives him time to calm his own breathing from frenzied gulps to something a little quick but doable. It gives him time to grasp at the ends of his own mind and bring himself to heel. It gives him time to push Erik onto his back and urge him quietly to undress his briefs. Once he has - and Charles has no doubt that he will - he breaks the kiss and leans up on one elbow and gives Erik a curious look, studying his body from face to his toes, admiring, trying to memorise every sharp angle, every nook and cranny, every beautiful sculpted detail of Erik's body.
"There's a metal container in my bag," he tells Erik with the first real strokes he gives him, practically petting his cock as he turns to look at Erik's face, from the tip to the base as the length snuggles against taut abs. "A round one with Vaseline inside. I'd like you to get it for me," he says softly as he leans in to kiss Erik's jaw.
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As soon as he opens his mouth, Charles cuts him off. Charles cuts him off with that, and Erik's brain short-circuits for a second. Charles brought vaseline with him? That's what's in the small metal tin? Wait, Charles wants to fuck him even though he'd just-- and oh, oh, he finally gets it. The message goes straight to his cock, which gives a little twitch as his jaw goes momentarily slack. With a wave of his hand, the bag is unbuckled and the little tin comes over and drops onto the pillow by his head.
He curls his fingers into Charles's hair and pulls him up so he can look Charles in the eye, just trying to make sure this isn't a dream. When he's again satisfied that it's not, he uncaps the little tin and generously dips his fingers inside.
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He hadn't thought about fucking. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Vaseline would have been great for giving Erik a good long handjob because he's more than a little dubious about his own skills for sucking him off and he'd love to give Erik something to enjoy after all the pleasure he just gave Charles.
But surprisingly, he doesn't want to correct Erik's misguided thoughts at all. Not only because Erik reacts to it so strongly, not even because he finds the idea of connecting with Erik like that fascinating and exciting but because there's that part of him that has been thinking about it. What it would feel like?
When Erik pulls him up there's arrested apprehension in Charles' eyes, but no fear, just nervousness and excitement. He reaches for the Vaseline and scoops up some onto his palm while he leans in to kiss Erik. His hand is careful as it spreads the slick on Erik's cock and starts stroking, slow but sure, from the cut tip to the very base with even strokes. He's not worried that this game will come to an end because Erik will come. Charles has him by the short and curlies, and he's not going to be shy to drag Erik back from the brink of an orgasm. It's a game he has played several times and knows exactly how to do it.
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He spreads the vaseline around his fingers and toys with Charles at his entrance, but keeps getting distracted when his skin lights up at every single stroke. Eventually he presses in, just a single finger, and he doesn't know if he'll make it all the way this morning the rate that Charles is driving him to the edge. Erik bites back a whine as he tries to open Charles up on one finger and then two; he's impossibly tight, even with a liberal coating of slick. But even if Erik comes in Charles's hand, he tries to please Charles on his fingers, making a scissoring motion and trying to read his face on how he'd like to be touched.
He can only make guesses from the way Charles's hand is around his cock, but Erik could let Charles play with him all day long if he could. If only he would ask. Right now, there's something more important on his mind.
"You alright?" he asks, curling his fingers forward out of habit more than anything. He doesn't want to hurt Charles, quite the opposite, but he's heard bits and pieces of stories where it was unpleasant to be penetrated like this. "Show me," he requests, because he wants to know. He wants to be sure of every single sensation that Charles experiences. He worries Charles's lower lip with his teeth and asks to be given permission to see it.
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He focuses on Erik's thoughts instead, they pull him firmly into second-hand arousal and he doesn't even notice when he starts to rock back against the gentle touches on his hole. Nerve endings alight, it actually feels pretty damn good and when Erik pushes in one finger he is surprised to find it doesn't really hurt but feels like something he's never before experienced. He yanks up his head and sucks in a sharp breath, not sure what to do with the intense feeling that the initial penetration gives him. It feels like he should do something, anything. And yet he doesn't know what. His hand pauses for a moment as he tries to get comfortable with the strange sensation that is waking up his whole body in a way that feels incredibly strange and incredibly something.
When Erik moves his finger, the burn presents itself and Charles gives a soft whimper, burrowing deeper into Erik's arousal hazed mind to grasp onto that, his hand moving again, this time in time with Erik's own. And somewhere in all that, between him thinking this is never going to work and listening to Erik's thoughts about how tight he is, it starts to feel good, a desire for more suddenly emerges and Charles isn't really sure if he gave Erik the idea or if Erik just went for it on his own but the stretching is back with two fingers this time. Again, Charles is leaning his forehead on Erik's chest and rushing out breaths that mist Erik's skin. It's awkward, so incredibly awkward and kind of hurts too. But there's that hunger somewhere in there, too, insatiable thirst for something more. It's hard to imagine how Erik could ever fit into him but at the same time the thought makes Charles push back against those fingers, wanting and needing.
It's incredible how this close to a blinding orgasm, his body is suddenly humming with so much desire again. Desire and nervous awkwardness, because it's definitely not all good. Fitting too big pieces in him. Erik asks him if he's alright and Charles murmurs something, kind of ready to give up. But then those fingers curl and something inside him lights up, a rush of something warm spiking. Suddenly it doesn't matter that it feels awkward because that one spike of pleasure has him pushing back against Erik's fingers with a whimpered plead. "Oh god, Erik, do that again, please." He knows his own hand is stuttering, his rhythm breaking, most likely giving Erik more frustration than he deserves. But Charles does what he asks and opens his mind, everything, showing Erik how it feels to have two fingers stuck in his ass and occasionally brushing against his prostate.
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But then, there's no real way around misinterpreting what he says, and Erik blinks as he tries to figure out what he meant. "Oh. This?" he asks, again hooking his fingers forward and catching Charles's lips briefly with his own. He gets lost, a little, in all of Charles's thoughts. And he-- understands; his fingers feel a little invasive from this end of the thoughts, like somehow it's partially the physical action and partially the uncomfortableness from the level of intimacy. He feels exposed, which is silly; they are exposed and he's not even the one getting fingered. But then he gets a more explosive sensation, and he gets it. He does it again. And again, and again...
Erik has so much fun watching Charles react that he almost forgets what his aim is here, and as soon as he feels confident that Charles's body has adjusted, he adds a third finger. He thinks he may call the whole thing off, once he does. Charles is so, so impossibly tight, and Erik doesn't have very much left in him. He thinks that if he even manages to properly fuck Charles, he'll get three thrusts in and then make a mess.
He asks Charles, mentally, if that's what he wants. He can't put it into words, he just has thoughts. Maybe they could resume this later? And for now Charles can finish him off and Erik can maybe see if Charles's body will let him come a second time or not. But he presses his cheek against Charles's, loudly wondering what he wants to do, because whatever it is, that's exactly what Erik wants too.
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Of course, of course sex with Erik would be like this. Everything else with him robs Charles off his breath and his senses. Why would this be any different?
Charles is still a little disoriented from the whole experience. He never thought he'd end up with something inside him today, fingers or anything else. He doesn't have the presence of mind to regret or congratulate himself. All he has is this very moment, this very moment and the sensations Erik is whipping him with.
The question, wordless as it is, is met with fierce refusal. They've come this far, Charles wants to see it to the end. Mess or not. He might even be relieved if Erik doesn't last very long. But he also wants to take some of his control back, which means he pushes on Erik's arm, wiggling away from his fingers before he throws one of his legs over Erik and pushes up to straddle him. His thighs are already trembling, the blue of his eyes almost completely swallowed by the black of his pupils but there's something very determined in the way he scoots backward until Erik's cock is pressed against the cleft of his ass.
"We'll go slow," he says with a voice that has plummeted at least an octave or so, ragged with arousal. He chews his own red mouth as he reaches behind him and lifts his hips. It takes a bit of adjusting, trying and trying again to find the right angle. And then Erik is pressed against his entrance and Charles sucks in a breath. Because he's big, this was the worst idea he's ever had, it's not going to fit...
But it does, somehow it does, and while only the head of Erik slips inside him, Charles is whining at the back of his throat, trembling as he pauses there, the intensity of the sensation completely gripping him and god he wishes he could stop shaking because then he'd get used to it and not trash from one tremble to another but no dice. Stretched, impossibly full, aching with the burn that he already associates with this.
Eventually he'll have to lift himself off of Erik and lean forward to rest for a moment against his chest. "Give me a s-second..."
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When Charles guides him in, Erik feels-- he tries so hard to control his hips, holding himself down. Charles is incredible, which Erik vocalizes in the form of groans and half-formed words slipping out of his mouth. His eyes roll back and he gets a dazed, lightheaded feeling, pulled back to earth only by Charles's hesitation. He knits his eyebrows and worryingly rubs his arms, moving his way up to Charles's neck. "Take all the time you want," he whispers. "I told you, I don't want to hurt you."
He grows more and more concerned, that maybe they're rushing things. And though Charles feels so good-- Charles feels like his body was made for this, bespoke with Erik's name on him-- he would gladly give it all up if he could be sure Charles was alright. From here Charles's trembles and shakes feel harder than they look, and Erik's wildly conscious of them in juxtaposition to his own body calming down. "Come here," he beckons, fingers slipping into Charles's hair.
Erik stills himself and still feels uneasy, but doesn't know if just pulling out will hurt him more. "Forget this," he adds, finally, "We can try again later." He tries to sound reassuring about this, gently smoothing out Charles's hair and looking up at him with pleading eyes.
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"N-no," he says with a soft chuckle. "I want you inside me," he says with a hint of playful air about his voice, playful and oh so raw, eager. He promises, wordlessly, that he's not hurting, just unpractised.
He takes a moment to answer every last of Erik's little kisses, the gentle touches to his hair. He noses along Erik's cheek and then reaches down to position Erik at his entrance again. The angle is not the best as he insists kissing Erik's jaw and his chest while he leans back and takes the head of Erik's cock this time a lot easier.
The stretch and burn return with gusto, the intense sensation of being penetrated makes Charles rush out a moan after moan, his brows furrowed with concentration and hand shaking on Erik's chest. He realises that being on top might never have been a really good idea. He probably would be over the discomfort already if Erik had been taking care of the movement - something to consider for the next time.
He pushes himself up then, and with an exhale sinks onto Erik's cock, his eyes going wide and body shuddering at the intense sensation of being filled to last of his inches. "Oh god," he mutters, jerking up and then sinking down again, forcing himself to get used to the sensation. The second time he lifts himself it's no longer a jerk but there's something needy in the motion, pleasure tickling somewhere in between his hipbones.
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He could stay like this endlessly, hearing the mattress creak underneath their weight, bathed in pale sunlight streaking in from gaps in the drawn curtains. At this very moment, Charles is the most beautiful thing that Erik thinks he has ever seen with his eyes, glowing and shaking and alight with the streams of light that hit his hair and his shoulders just so.
When Charles becomes more comfortable, Erik joins him by arcing his hips, slow at first but then carried along by the almost involuntary roll of his own muscles driving away as a machine does. "Oh Charles," he echoes, trying to muffle his own sounds as the people around them might be starting to wake up and take notice if they're too loud. But in his mind there's a chant, just Charles's name on repeat like it's a prayer, like Erik's lost his mind and it's the only thing that he's retained.
It's almost a surprise to him when he comes, and the only warning he can manage is to tap Charles on the elbow. There's a sharp gasp, a low keening noise, and Erik suspended in a state of a numbing bliss for what seems to him like both an eternity and over within a matter of seconds.
Even after, lying there as if in shock, he feels like static electricity.
"Come here," he says, finally, and this time with more insistence.
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It's not a physical release for him when Erik comes but it's enough to be on the ride with him, feeling himself spill over the edge with Erik. The keening moan that Erik lets out is like a string attached to his gut, tugging and tugging until there's nothing but white heat and his hands on Erik's chest, his hips coming down hard and relentless.
Charles is suspended on top of Erik, shuddering, watching him with wide eyes and then Erik's voice, ruffled with sex and throat deep, calling him in. Charles gives a noise like half a sob, half a moan, and slumps forward, onto Erik, burying his nose on the crook of Erik's neck.
"N-needless to say I've never had sex like this," he mutters while he tries to catch his breath, cheek against Erik's chest, listening to his heart beating.
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"We should get clean," he remarks finally. "We've got a long day ahead." He turns his cheek against Charles's , sliver of his lips somewhere giving him a very technical, very easily-missable kiss. He, too, would love to stay the whole day and bask, then repeat. But they came here to do a job, and he doesn't want them to arouse any suspicion. In fact, he's already planning on how they can buy a few more days, call in at a payphone and tell the CIA that their vehicle is a little out of order, or maybe Charles decided to drive for a bit.
Erik can make it look convincing.
He just wants a few more stolen moments with Charles before they go back. Even though they were essentially given free reign through the day, there was hardly any privacy and it was easy to sneak up on your coworkers and fellow teammates. No, he's thinking they could weasel their way out of being laughed at too much for being mutants, but not this.
This, he'll have to keep secret in his heart, only open when it's sure it's the two of them together, safely tucked away from other minds. They might get good at it, Erik thinks. Or careless. Either way, it's a lovely fever to burn, this new flame. "Come," he says, half-heartedly patting Charles's thigh as the only movement he makes to get up. "Let's get up."
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"No afterglow, huh?" he asks a bit teasingly.
But he's not letting Erik get away with it quite that easily. He presses a hand onto Erik's chest and moves to slip Erik out of his body finally, a soft whimper on his lips at the friction. He can feel the burn inside him and it'll be quite a pain to sit in a car for the rest of the day but he'll live.
He leans down to catch Erik's mouth in a lingering kiss, his clean hand curling around the man's prickly cheek. Idly he wonders how red his face will be, if the beard burn will disappear quickly or not.
"Fine," he finally murmurs as he breaks the kiss and slowly shifts to roll off Erik and stands up. Only, his legs are trembling so much it's hard to stay up, so he sits down onto the edge of the bed. "Well then..."
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He's still thinking about it when Charles stumbles to get up, and Erik reaches out to steady him. He can't help but feel a burst of pride at this, knowing he's made Charles go all wobbly-legged. "Around my shoulder," he says, lifting Charles's arm and trying to pull him back up. He takes the opportunity to steal another kiss, though it's a shorter one, not as lingering or languid as the one he was just offered, but nonetheless affectionate. Charles is so perfect in this moment, Erik has a hard time trying not to have his afterglow anyway.
Instead, he starts the tap, so that it'll be warm by the time they step under it. He looks at Charles adoringly, which is not something he could even attempt to hide. Feelings bubble up in his chest, and he wonders if Charles can read them. It makes Erik feel a little exposed and a little vulnerable; he's always been able to keep how he feels under wraps. Now he feels like an open book, waiting to see if Charles will be riveted or stick him back on the shelf.
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When Erik wraps his arm around his own shoulders, Charles lets him hold them up, both of them while he searches his own legs, laughing against Erik's mouth like he's not done since he was a teenager, completely intoxicated on the sudden rush of affection that floods his mind.
"As often as possible," Charles admits his own desires easily, holding onto Erik as they start to move towards the bathroom.
But he doesn't leave it at that. He can definitely read the vulnerability from Erik without being able to sense his feelings. Erik's thoughts tell him enough. He pushes back the thought silently, making the distinction be seen. I wish I could show you how you make me feel, though. It's beautiful.
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He lathers up Charles's chest first, and spends most of his time trying to get Charles clean. It's pretty obvious that he can't keep his hands off, even if he's feeling more affectionate than passionate. That's a slightly different story when he cleans between Charles's legs and his fingers touch where it's still sticky and viscous. He couldn't hide his cock's reaction if he tried.
Still, he doesn't try to escalate this into more than just cleaning them off, mind still buzzing happily and body still aching a bit of tiredness. He might need a short nap before they leave, but for now he's fine. "I want you to know you're incredible," he finally admits out loud. "Everything about you," he finishes the thought with: is just perfect for me.
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When there are inquisitive fingers between his legs, Charles gives a soft whimper but doesn't push Erik's touch away. He trembles at the pleasant ache that Erik has left behind but no, it doesn't urge him to resume what they were up to before the shower.
Since they are exploring here, he takes his soapy hands finally to Erik's cock and the sack beneath, encouraged by Erik's exploring hands he also washes beneath. At least until Erik is speaking up and Charles tilts his head back to look at him. His cheeks were already flushed but now more colour rushes to them.
"Thank you, Erik," he murmurs with a smile that might seem a little shy for a little while and arches up to kiss Erik's mouth. Because he can easily continue without the use of his mouth in the process. I've never experienced anything like this. Not just the obvious or the less obvious telepathy but something else. This is amazing. You are amazing.
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If Charles kisses him anymore then they'll both be a little weak in the legs, but he doesn't care about that really. It's the idea that Charles feels free enough to show off his gifts, that Erik does to do the same. It's the feeling that, even if they didn't know the other was a mutant, there would still be a spark of attraction. And it's knowing that, regardless of where this goes, they are friends. They are friends who trust each other, who live in synchronicity, and who now draw breath together.
Something about that makes Erik feel lightheaded in a way that he knows isn't just the steam.
"Thank you, Charles," he says against his lips, and pulls him in for a deeper kiss. They might not leave the hotel at this rate, and might not even leave the shower until they prune. Still, he doesn't speed up the process, he slows it down. He wants to remember all of this. Yet, he peers at the window and tries not to heave a sigh, it's definitely already late morning (well, late as far as Erik is concerned), and they need to get a move on. They haven't even eaten yet; they might have to go through a (he shudders to think) drive-through.
"You'll have to feed me later," he explains. "And we'll have fast food wrappers all over the car."
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But for once he doesn't want to overthink it, either. He just wants to live it. All of it.
Erik is alone in worrying about the trip. Charles honestly has forsaken all thoughts about responsibility. It doesn't happen easily, either. The idea of returning to the world is distant and quiet. He knows it'll come and they'll do it together. But for now, he's still with Erik in a misty shower and very little else matters.
"What a horrid fate awaits us," he says, teasingly while pulling Erik under the spray of water and for a moment rendered quiet while he helps the foam to rinse away from Erik's hair and his body.
"You know I could help that a little with..." he says after they both are rinsed clean and lifts a few fingers up, wiggling them in a very disgraceful way of describing his powers. "We can have whatever you want and I'll have them prepare it for us and we can just go in and pick it up, leave. It'll be quicker than drive through."
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He offers Charles a few more lighthearted kisses and then rinses himself off a final time, before stepping onto the bathmat. One of them has to be a responsible adult, and that's probably going to have to be Erik. He doesn't mind; it's very strange having someone else around but he's managed fine his whole life.
He'll let Charles enjoy the rest of the shower as he gets himself dressed and starts packing up all their things for checkout, which is-- Oh, wow, which is way quicker than he had imagined. No wonder he's so hungry for breakfast.
Though he wanted to return and be there waiting with a warm towel to wrap around Charles, he instead zips up their suitcases and does another sweep around the room, shouting that he'd be downstairs checking out with the key but he'd be back up to carry everything and that Charles should take his time. Inside he's, of course, thinking that Charles should hurry it up, but he tries not to make it too obvious.
The moment didn't get to last too long, but there will hopefully be countless others...
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Instead he takes a moment to locate a cleaning lady. They're already making their rounds. He pulls her in with his powers, has her strip down the bed while he chatters with her about everything and nothing. Then they take away the cot together. No one needs to be gossiping around about the fact that the cot was never used and there are some stains on the sheets.
Once he's done with that, he follows Erik to the car and hefts his bag into the trunk.
"Nice weather," he says with a smile as he squints at the sunny sky.
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When they're all ready to leave, Erik is still looking at the hotel, a little fondly, much more than he did when they pulled in. He'll always remember this place as their spot, the one where he realized what he felt for Charles. "Beautiful day for a drive," he replies, and then gets into the car and shuts the door; it already smells inside from the sun shining on the leather interior and trapped in by the windowpanes.
He takes Charles's hand when they peel out of the parking lot, and his mind gives a content hum like a persistent machine running background processes. Usually so good at keeping his emotions locked inside, he can't help but have his whole face light up. He and Charles are trapped in a car for at least the next twelve hours of solid time being in each other's company.
Everything seems brighter this morning.
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Charles slips in a lot closer to Erik today, pulling his hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles when they're firmly off the parking lot. He pulls one of his knees up to the bench between them and leans his elbow onto the back of the seat while entangling is fingers with Erik.
"The adult in me says we should talk about it," he says as they have settled to a good driving speed. "But I'm thinking maybe we should stop and get some coffee and breakfast first." A high chuckle says that he's feeling awfully relaxed and good, smile never leaving his face.
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No, Erik thinks to himself. That's not what Charles thinks, this wasn't just some spur-of-the-moment decision that he regrets.
He holds Charles's hand tighter anyway.
He thinks, I like you. He thinks, there's a good chance I will love you someday. He thinks, I don't care if you feel or don't feel the same about the future. I like what we have right now. You're incredible, he thinks. Frustrating, brilliant, captivating, and incredible.
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"I see," he says after a moment and then dissolves into a high, amused laughter, his head tilting back for a moment because this is just awfully easy and he doesn't know if he's supposed to be afraid of what that means or truly happy for it. He fails to feel any future dread though.
"I think you pretty much expressed everything I wanted to say. Thank you, Erik. Though, you are more familiar with this sort of situation than I am. I've only ever had this kind of dalliances that I had no desire to continue. Yet, I would loathe a thought that this would be the last and only time we managed to enjoy each other like that."
He tilts his head to rest upon his palm as he keeps looking at Erik's profile with a disgustingly sweet smile. You make me happy. I truly hope I can make you happy, too.
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god I need to take these icons to photoshop.....
new icons new icons!
maybe something that isn't this clunky. Seriously, I just need to find the time and inclination
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