I finally told Raven about us. No more sneaking in and out of my bedroom. Good news, isn't it? Although you might want to avoid her for the next few days. She said something about wanting to kick you in the balls if she sees you. I told her to do no such thing.
All right. We can do that. We're going to need to be ready to field any sort of questions coming from the kids though. You know how they area. Sean, especially.
I suppose we can start moving your things into my bedroom. Well, that one suitcase of yours.
Erik. It was a lot when Raven knocked on my door last night and you scrambled out the window and almost broke your neck. But you're right. We haven't talked about it and we should.
I know I've a reputation for sleeping around so it probably doesn't mean a lot that we've fooled around, but I'm not interested in anyone else but you.
I know you can, but you had me worried all the same. I don't like you having to do that. I'm not ashamed of us. I don't want to feel like what we're doing is wrong or that we have to keep hiding. Especially from the ones who care about us, which is why I told Raven. I would've mentioned it to you first, but I hadn't planned on telling her until I blurted it out last night.
And for the record, I don't care about your past relationships either. What matters is us right now, and we really should let the rest of the team know. Although, I think Hank probably suspects something already. He asked me last week if you wanting to play chess with me is a code for something else.
Well, I didn't tell him that last bit. It would've been funny if I had though. Anyway, I'm going back to Oxford to get some of my things and clear out the apartment. Come along with me?
Thirty minutes later and Charles heads downstairs with his carry-on luggage, smiling when he sees Erik, glad the man's agreed to come along with him despite the last minute request.
"You can put your things in here with mine if you'd like. I was thinking we'd stay in Oxford for a few days. Depending on how long it'll take to get everything sorted." He plans on packing everything up into boxes and then just shipping it back to New York via cargo. There's not much, really. Just stacks of books, all the papers he'd written, plus some of Raven's things as well.
"Oh. I almost forgot. Should we just tell them about us before we head off? Or should we wait until after we get back?"
"Let's wait until we get back," he answers. "No need for them to think we're dropping this news and then absconding." Erik doesn't have many things, and they all fit in his suitcase, so he's good to go without using any of Charles' bags. He's a light packer.
"Is Hank flying the plane? Or are we actually going to the airport?" he asks. That'll be something. He hasn't flown commercially since coming to stay with Charles, but the one thing he likes about private is... well, the privacy. They could play a game or two of chess, and then continue to not tell Hank about the other things they get up to.
Charles nods in agreement. Not telling the team just yet also gives them some peace of mind while they're away. They're not going to have to be too concerned about what the boys might be thinking. This way, it's business as usual. He's glad they're deciding to let the rest of them know soon though because he doesn't want them to have sneak around, and more importantly, this means that Erik is planning on staying on at the mansion and helping him build the school.
"I thought about asking Hank, but he's been working on rebuilding Cerebro and I don't want to interrupt his progress with that. So, I've booked us a charter flight." No need for them to deal with sitting for hours in a commercial plane full of people and crying babies. It's a lot less stressful for Charles who's a telepath and for Erik who doesn't particularly like the company of humans.
"Here." He leans up to wrap a dark blue scarf around Erik's neck. "It's freezing outside and I don't want you catching a cold."
Oh, that's sweet. He wraps Charles' scarf around his neck and then wraps an arm around his waist. "Don't want you getting cold, either." Before they leave the grounds where they'll be in public and where it's frowned-upon to do this, he does stop Charles for a little kiss.
But then once they're out of those gates, he acts perfectly presentable. "Want me to carry your things?" he asks. It's not that he thinks Charles incapable, but he is the stronger of the two and he could always pick things up with his mind and hide it.
To think they almost missed out on this if Erik hadn't agreed to come home with them after Cuba. Shaw's dead, but the public are still wary of mutants. They did help to stop a war, so that counts for something, with the government choosing to leave them alone even. Charles had spent weeks in a wheelchair, but thankfully, Hank's managed to create a serum that's worked well enough so far. For now, he is able to stand on his own two feet again. Temporarily, at least. It's not a permanent solution as his ability to walk takes away his telepathy, but Charles has firmly stated that this is what he wants for now.
When Erik offers to take his luggage, Charles lets out a shake of his head. There'll come a time when he'll be unable to do this on his own, but for now, he can and he will. Except he almost trips and falls when the wheel gets stuck on the rough pavement, but he manages to right himself at the last minute, one hand grasping hold of erik's sleeve.
"Maybe hold this for a little while. I do need to check and make sure we've got our passports and travel documents."
He feels the wheel get stuck on the pavement and immediately uses his powers to lift the thing so that it gets unstuck, placing it gently down on the side. "Sure," he says, easily.
He knows his passports are in order because most of his are faked, and he has several. Not to mention, his traveler's checks and things. Now that there are credit cards, things become much easier to steal. He definitely doesn't exactly think these thoughts too loudly, just in case.
Aside from these snags - and Erik shooting Charles in the back - they've been getting along quite well. Things have essentially returned to normal, aside from the whole mutant sentiment. But if Charles can find it in him to forgive Erik, then Erik can at least try to work with him, instead of leaving to stew in his anger and plan for destruction.
Charles isn't an idiot and he knows Erik's been using fake credit cards. He does plan on telling him to put a stop to that because he has more than enough to support him, and if the man wants to argue about it, he will let him know that all of his money comes from his family anyway, meaning it's not like he'd worked hard to earn even a cent of it. But more importantly, that Erik is family.
Besides, it's obvious he has a ridiculous amount in his bank account otherwise Hank wouldn't have the means to build another jet plane that's currently taking up a lot of space in the basement of the mansion right now. That, and Cerebro. The young man's really going all out with trying to build something that's better than what the CIA ever had in their facility, and Charles has been more than happy to fund all of his projects.
He lets Erik handle the suitcase and get it checked in once they're at the airport. An hour later and they're on the private plane headed for Oxford. Charles pours them a shot of whiskey each before sitting across from Erik. He knows what's next. They're going to play a game of chess as they usually do, but before that, Charles thinks they should have a talk first, and so he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.
"Erik, why exactly did you agree to come back with us?" Was it out of guilt because he'd accidentally misdirected a bullet to his back? Charles had told him they didn't want the same things, but he'd also been the one to plead for him to stay and not leave. "I just... I have to admit that I can't help but wonder if I'm going to wake up one day to find you gone because this isn't what you really want." Now that just sounds like a bloody accusation. Well, it is what he's been worried about, but he could've phrased it a little better.
Erik prepares all the things for the flight. He knows Charles doesn't like the fake credit cards but he also doesn't like the idea of living off of Charles's money. He knows it's not the same as quitting a job, but Charles has a lot of dependents and Erik doesn't want to be one of them.
And though the money is not independently his own, he is stealing it from people like Charles, though who are less open with their wallets to let in the disenfranchised. Banks, billionaires and big business: those are the places from which Erik lifts cards and numbers, and honestly, none of them have even suspected the small amounts he takes go missing.
He sits down with Charles and expects their usual game and drink, but puts down his glass when he's asked that. He gathers his thoughts for a moment, shifting the glass' position with his hand and watching the reflective colors flash and alter.
"I came back because I saw what I'd done to you," he says finally, voice contemplative. "But you aren't my enemy, Charles." He doesn't know how to vocalize it, but he'd thought that for sure he'd broken the one good thing he had, this family he's found, and with Charles refusing to come with him... he hadn't been in a good state of mind that day. Once clarity came, he'd known.
"I thought you wouldn't want to see me anymore, but yet you welcomed me back without reservation. Should I ask you why?" If this is Charles' way of chasing Erik out, he could just say something.
Charles manages a small smile as he looks at Erik. At times like this, he wishes he has his telepathy, but it's also good that they're talking this way and he's not just reading his mind. What someone thinks and what they want him to know can be two entirely different things. And just because he can read a person's mind doesn't necessarily make communication any easier. Sometimes it can become even more complicated.
He presses his lips together, frowning slightly as he thinks of how to begin with answering that question. He doesn't like thinking back to that day on the beach, in Cuba. He doesn't like remembering what it felt like to have Shaw in his mind right as he died. For weeks, what happened that day had haunted his dreams at night. When before he was drinking before bed to quiet his mind, he'd started drinking more than usual in an effort to simply forget everything.
"I'm aware that mistakes were made that day. What happened, and how things escalated, was as much my fault as it was yours. Erik, what I said to you, about those men, that they were just following orders. I shouldn't have said that. It was careless of me. I only realised what that meant for you after I'd said it. And for that, I'm sorry." Men following orders had been the reason why Erik and so many others had lost their loved ones.
"Plain and simple, my darling, I wanted you to come back with us because it's where you belong. I don't want us to fight against each other. I know we're bound to disagree on some things, but I hope it never escalates to the point where we can't forgive one another. Because I don't blame you for what happened to me. It was an accident. And I'm not just saying that because I'm able to walk again. I know this is temporary. Still, I'm not going to feel any differently about you when that changes." And hopefully, Erik won't either. He hadn't exactly been the best company during that time when he was paralysed. Sure, he'd been fine for the first week, but then he'd started getting irritable and every attempt to help him was met with a glare, and he had been so stubborn about letting anyone do anything for him because he hadn't liked feeling so helpless.
"The thing is, I just can't imagine not having you around. I mean, I have gotten incredibly spoiled by your excellent skills in the... kitchen." He's definitely not thinking about the kitchen. "Besides, you said you wanted me by your side. I want that too."
Charles is always forgiving where Erik is not, and that can sometimes lead to difficulties between them, such as when Charles forgives the people who trespass against them. And yet, he allows himself to take such advantage, because he still believes, even if Charles doesn't think it's his fault, that it was.
Well, okay, he still places most of the blame on Moira, who shot at him despite knowing his powers.
But now's not the time to have such discussions. Not when Charles is calling him darling and alluding to his skills in areas that are decidedly not the kitchen. Really, Charles. He wonders if he thinks that there's some other telepath nearby that might be scandalized, either by the idea that they have sex or that they enjoy it.
He reaches over to gently squeeze Charles' hand, since no one is around to see it, but he thinks he could use the support. It was a near thing, his leaving: he had made a choice on that beach, but he had almost made the other one. It would've caused him regrets, yes, but at the time he'd felt so monstrous, so dejected, that it almost felt like the only choice to make.
He's glad Charles can't pull that thought out of his mind.
"I do want you by my side, Charles. No one is like you are to me." Not just as a lover, but as a friend. If Erik believed in such things, he would say Charles is his soulmate, cut from the opposite side of the cloth from which he himself was made. He looks at their hands - Charles', the hands of a scholar, are soft, and Erik's are rough and worn with work. So he lifts his hand instead, and presses kisses to his knuckles, gently.
Hearing Erik say that he wants to stick around; that he wants to stay brings him some relief. It's one less thing to worry about. The thing is he can't help but feel fiercely protective over the man. If Erik had been out there waging a war against the world instead of being here with him, Charles isn't sure what he would've done. Would he have tried to stop him? But at what cost?
As Erik takes his hand and kisses his knuckles, Charles thinks that he's never really known love like this. Not that they've said those three words out loud to each other just yet, but he certainly feels it. No one would think Erik capable of being kind and gentle and loving, but Charles does. He knows Erik cares for him very much and he feels the exact same way about him.
"You mean a great deal to me, Erik." He moves his hand to brush his thumb across the man's cheek. "I know this might sound terribly corny, but I do believe you've changed my life for the better, and I don't think I could be any happier than I am now." He smiles at him in an adoring way. "I am ever so glad I met you, my dear friend. But..." He then pinches Erik's cheek, albeit gently. "You do realise I've had to convince you to stay twice now. I hope you're not going to make a habit of this."
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Whenever you're ready. But I want to do it together.
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I suppose we can start moving your things into my bedroom. Well, that one suitcase of yours.
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You know Charles, I don't even think we talked about how serious we are, but I'm guessing it must be a lot for you to tell Raven.
Don't worry, this is where I want to be.
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I know I've a reputation for sleeping around so it probably doesn't mean a lot that we've fooled around, but I'm not interested in anyone else but you.
And you're who I want to be with.
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You know I can fly, right? Not well, but enough, I wasn't ever really in danger.
But, I feel that way too. That you're the one I want to be with. So I think, maybe, we could tell the team.
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And for the record, I don't care about your past relationships either. What matters is us right now, and we really should let the rest of the team know. Although, I think Hank probably suspects something already. He asked me last week if you wanting to play chess with me is a code for something else.
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But did you tell him we actually do play chess?
Because I like the other things we do, but I do actually like the game.
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"You can put your things in here with mine if you'd like. I was thinking we'd stay in Oxford for a few days. Depending on how long it'll take to get everything sorted." He plans on packing everything up into boxes and then just shipping it back to New York via cargo. There's not much, really. Just stacks of books, all the papers he'd written, plus some of Raven's things as well.
"Oh. I almost forgot. Should we just tell them about us before we head off? Or should we wait until after we get back?"
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"Is Hank flying the plane? Or are we actually going to the airport?" he asks. That'll be something. He hasn't flown commercially since coming to stay with Charles, but the one thing he likes about private is... well, the privacy. They could play a game or two of chess, and then continue to not tell Hank about the other things they get up to.
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"I thought about asking Hank, but he's been working on rebuilding Cerebro and I don't want to interrupt his progress with that. So, I've booked us a charter flight." No need for them to deal with sitting for hours in a commercial plane full of people and crying babies. It's a lot less stressful for Charles who's a telepath and for Erik who doesn't particularly like the company of humans.
"Here." He leans up to wrap a dark blue scarf around Erik's neck. "It's freezing outside and I don't want you catching a cold."
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But then once they're out of those gates, he acts perfectly presentable. "Want me to carry your things?" he asks. It's not that he thinks Charles incapable, but he is the stronger of the two and he could always pick things up with his mind and hide it.
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When Erik offers to take his luggage, Charles lets out a shake of his head. There'll come a time when he'll be unable to do this on his own, but for now, he can and he will. Except he almost trips and falls when the wheel gets stuck on the rough pavement, but he manages to right himself at the last minute, one hand grasping hold of erik's sleeve.
"Maybe hold this for a little while. I do need to check and make sure we've got our passports and travel documents."
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He knows his passports are in order because most of his are faked, and he has several. Not to mention, his traveler's checks and things. Now that there are credit cards, things become much easier to steal. He definitely doesn't exactly think these thoughts too loudly, just in case.
Aside from these snags - and Erik shooting Charles in the back - they've been getting along quite well. Things have essentially returned to normal, aside from the whole mutant sentiment. But if Charles can find it in him to forgive Erik, then Erik can at least try to work with him, instead of leaving to stew in his anger and plan for destruction.
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Besides, it's obvious he has a ridiculous amount in his bank account otherwise Hank wouldn't have the means to build another jet plane that's currently taking up a lot of space in the basement of the mansion right now. That, and Cerebro. The young man's really going all out with trying to build something that's better than what the CIA ever had in their facility, and Charles has been more than happy to fund all of his projects.
He lets Erik handle the suitcase and get it checked in once they're at the airport. An hour later and they're on the private plane headed for Oxford. Charles pours them a shot of whiskey each before sitting across from Erik. He knows what's next. They're going to play a game of chess as they usually do, but before that, Charles thinks they should have a talk first, and so he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.
"Erik, why exactly did you agree to come back with us?" Was it out of guilt because he'd accidentally misdirected a bullet to his back? Charles had told him they didn't want the same things, but he'd also been the one to plead for him to stay and not leave. "I just... I have to admit that I can't help but wonder if I'm going to wake up one day to find you gone because this isn't what you really want." Now that just sounds like a bloody accusation. Well, it is what he's been worried about, but he could've phrased it a little better.
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And though the money is not independently his own, he is stealing it from people like Charles, though who are less open with their wallets to let in the disenfranchised. Banks, billionaires and big business: those are the places from which Erik lifts cards and numbers, and honestly, none of them have even suspected the small amounts he takes go missing.
He sits down with Charles and expects their usual game and drink, but puts down his glass when he's asked that. He gathers his thoughts for a moment, shifting the glass' position with his hand and watching the reflective colors flash and alter.
"I came back because I saw what I'd done to you," he says finally, voice contemplative. "But you aren't my enemy, Charles." He doesn't know how to vocalize it, but he'd thought that for sure he'd broken the one good thing he had, this family he's found, and with Charles refusing to come with him... he hadn't been in a good state of mind that day. Once clarity came, he'd known.
"I thought you wouldn't want to see me anymore, but yet you welcomed me back without reservation. Should I ask you why?" If this is Charles' way of chasing Erik out, he could just say something.
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He presses his lips together, frowning slightly as he thinks of how to begin with answering that question. He doesn't like thinking back to that day on the beach, in Cuba. He doesn't like remembering what it felt like to have Shaw in his mind right as he died. For weeks, what happened that day had haunted his dreams at night. When before he was drinking before bed to quiet his mind, he'd started drinking more than usual in an effort to simply forget everything.
"I'm aware that mistakes were made that day. What happened, and how things escalated, was as much my fault as it was yours. Erik, what I said to you, about those men, that they were just following orders. I shouldn't have said that. It was careless of me. I only realised what that meant for you after I'd said it. And for that, I'm sorry." Men following orders had been the reason why Erik and so many others had lost their loved ones.
"Plain and simple, my darling, I wanted you to come back with us because it's where you belong. I don't want us to fight against each other. I know we're bound to disagree on some things, but I hope it never escalates to the point where we can't forgive one another. Because I don't blame you for what happened to me. It was an accident. And I'm not just saying that because I'm able to walk again. I know this is temporary. Still, I'm not going to feel any differently about you when that changes." And hopefully, Erik won't either. He hadn't exactly been the best company during that time when he was paralysed. Sure, he'd been fine for the first week, but then he'd started getting irritable and every attempt to help him was met with a glare, and he had been so stubborn about letting anyone do anything for him because he hadn't liked feeling so helpless.
"The thing is, I just can't imagine not having you around. I mean, I have gotten incredibly spoiled by your excellent skills in the... kitchen." He's definitely not thinking about the kitchen. "Besides, you said you wanted me by your side. I want that too."
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Well, okay, he still places most of the blame on Moira, who shot at him despite knowing his powers.
But now's not the time to have such discussions. Not when Charles is calling him darling and alluding to his skills in areas that are decidedly not the kitchen. Really, Charles. He wonders if he thinks that there's some other telepath nearby that might be scandalized, either by the idea that they have sex or that they enjoy it.
He reaches over to gently squeeze Charles' hand, since no one is around to see it, but he thinks he could use the support. It was a near thing, his leaving: he had made a choice on that beach, but he had almost made the other one. It would've caused him regrets, yes, but at the time he'd felt so monstrous, so dejected, that it almost felt like the only choice to make.
He's glad Charles can't pull that thought out of his mind.
"I do want you by my side, Charles. No one is like you are to me." Not just as a lover, but as a friend. If Erik believed in such things, he would say Charles is his soulmate, cut from the opposite side of the cloth from which he himself was made. He looks at their hands - Charles', the hands of a scholar, are soft, and Erik's are rough and worn with work. So he lifts his hand instead, and presses kisses to his knuckles, gently.
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As Erik takes his hand and kisses his knuckles, Charles thinks that he's never really known love like this. Not that they've said those three words out loud to each other just yet, but he certainly feels it. No one would think Erik capable of being kind and gentle and loving, but Charles does. He knows Erik cares for him very much and he feels the exact same way about him.
"You mean a great deal to me, Erik." He moves his hand to brush his thumb across the man's cheek. "I know this might sound terribly corny, but I do believe you've changed my life for the better, and I don't think I could be any happier than I am now." He smiles at him in an adoring way. "I am ever so glad I met you, my dear friend. But..." He then pinches Erik's cheek, albeit gently. "You do realise I've had to convince you to stay twice now. I hope you're not going to make a habit of this."
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