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."
Well, as far as habits go, Erik has a lot of them and they're hard to break. They're not good ones, either, but they're born out of a necessity: he has a hard shell and a hard interior, and it's difficult to get beneath all that, to find the man he is behind all the guards and the walls.
But, in essence, he is just a man, and Charles sees through to the heart of him. He knows this, but even then, it's difficult for him to believe sometimes, to really comprehend that he's there for him, that he understands, that there isn't a need to turn tail and run without so much as leaving a note. Because that is how Erik operates, that is how he needs to in order to survive.
"I'll try." That's not really an answer, but it's the only one he can give at the moment.
He does know that he loves Charles, loves him more than he's loved anyone else before. He knows that Charles is good for him, that much is true, that he has hope when he's with Charles. "I've never felt more safe," he says. "Than when I am with you." And like maybe he can find a place to be free, because even though he isn't tied down anywhere, sometimes the rest of the world just feels like a gilded cage. How does he explain that to Charles?
"Good. I want you to feel safe." He's never going to let anyone hurt Erik again. What Shaw did to him is unforgivable. It's why Charles had kept up that psychic hold on the evil bastard despite knowing that Erik was going to kill him. It was justified, and since it was clearly Shaw or Erik, and who knows how many more who were going to end up dead that day, the choice had been an easy one to make, and it isn't one he's going to regret.
"Now let's play a game. And don't bother saying you'll go easy on me because you never do." Charles starts by moving one of his pawns, sort of carelessly, not giving it much thought, deciding to keep it simple at first. The challenging moves can come later when Erik least expects it.
A couple of games and a few more drinks later, and Charles is reading a book out loud while seated next to Erik. He's put a blanket over the man and pulled up the armrest so they can get comfortable next to each other. "You know, the point of me reading to you is so you'll get some sleep. It'll be hours before we land and we both know you didn't get much rest last night." Sean had accidentally broken his bedroom window, again, and he'd insisted that Erik fix it right away because he wasn't going to share a room with Alex. Charles had only found out about it in the morning when the boys had told him about it.
Erik usually doesn't go easy on Charles because he could easily have his mind read, and that generally keeps him from winning. But he tries his best, and he always comes up with lots of strategies on the fly, which he thinks helps to keep them both on their toes a little bit. That's just how they are with each other, and honestly, it's healthier than them fighting, at least.
A couple games later, Erik's got his head cradled against Charles' shoulder, and he isn't falling asleep, but he does want to continue listening to his voice.
"I know," he says, brushing off Charles' concern. "But it's not a problem. I've survived on less." He turns his face in towards Charles a little bit, and he doesn't want to say aloud that now that they're both awake, he doesn't want to miss a moment, even if that means losing out on a little sleep. It's a small price to pay.
Whatever spare time they have in the day or in the evenings are often spent playing chess together. Charles had tried to join Erik in the gym a few times, but he really isn't much for doing push-ups or sit-ups and whatever else Erik, Alex and Azazel seem to enjoy so much. The one time he'd tried to learn some basic boxing techniques, Charles had failed to dodge and Alex had punched him in the nose, and that was not great. Thankfully, there's Hank, and he's happy to stick to being able to do multiple laps around the mansion with him instead.
"It's a good thing we're just going to be spending time in my flat in Oxford. I suppose there'll be plenty of opportunities for you to catch up on some sleep then." He turns to the next page of the short novel and continues reading for a bit more before he puts the book down, deciding to focus his attention on Erik instead. If the man's not going to sleep, they might as well talk. But before that, he'll steal some quick kisses first. They're in their own private corner of the chartered plane, so this is perfectly fine.
"Do you know what Raven said when I told her about us? She said she suspected it for weeks because she smelled my shampoo on you. Of all things. I would've thought it would've been the fact we'd start a game of chess but never quite finish it..." He supposes no one pays attention to the chessboard in his study. Or that one time the books were in a haphazard pile on the floor right next to his desk.
"Charles, no one monitors our chess games," Erik responds, confirming that indeed, why would any of the kids care about that? Maybe they just thought they kept finishing and starting new ones, even. But he hadn't noticed that it was so stark of a difference to use Charles' shampoo instead of his own, and maybe to throw off the scent he should start buying Charles' shampoo instead.
"I'll sleep when you sleep," he resolves, leaning up from where he'd reclined on Charles' chest to kiss him gently. "You know, we should have a bike ride." Oxford's kind of a small town, so it won't be a long one, but he thinks it'll be nice for the two of them to ride around, maybe check out the clock tower.
He doesn't know what else they'll be doing there but research, and staying in so that they can have lots of private time in their well-sound-proofed living quarters. It doesn't sound like a bad shake, and in fact, sounds perfectly like a nice, relaxing vacation. He imagines Charles will get some work done, and maybe Erik will start some writings as well.
He'd argue that Hank notices they play a little too much chess, but it doesn't matter anyway. The moment they get home they're letting everyone know they're together, and Erik will officially move into his suite, and that's that. No more hiding and sneaking around. The past couple of months have been great, absolutely fun, and thrilling even, but there have been too many mornings where he wishes he could just sleep in with Erik next to him instead of having to sneak out of each other's bedroom at the crack of dawn or in the middle of the night.
He runs his fingers through Erik's hair, enjoying the little kisses shared between them, and he smiles at the suggestion they go biking around town. Well, that's something he'd never done while he'd been at Oxford. Charles thinks he'd be more than happy to go for a bike ride with his... boyfriend, is it?
"That sounds like a fun idea. I should show you the sights and take you to my favourite pub of course." He really did love his time at Oxford, and if he hadn't met Moira, he probably wouldn't have chosen to return to New York. Instead, he likely would've found a teaching position in Oxford even. But things are even better now, and he's looking forward to a future with Erik and the rest of the mutants at the mansion.
"How about we turn this into a mini vacation for us? I'd love to spoil you." The main reason for returning to Oxford is to complete his research, tidy up the place, pack up his belongings and head home. But well, perhaps there's no need to rush all of that and they can stay on for a few extra days.
"Only if you want," he says, looking up at him and smiling softly. It's not like Erik to be so relaxed. Usually he's on-edge, cool, slightly aloof. But ever since they'd started this thing together, he'd become soft around the edges, affectionate, and oh-so-loving. In some ways, he's like a cat who's finally found an owner to love.
He offers Charles a little kiss before he settles back against his shoulder, half on his chest, soaking in all his touches and physical affectations.
"But I'd like to. Waking up next to you and not sneaking out, bringing you breakfast, watching you work. That sounds like a good time." He likes the thought of them doing something so mundane as just coexisting, because, honestly, Erik had never thought that he could have such a love. He'd not considered that he could have a normal, functional relationship.
It makes him reconsider possibilities, and think that maybe he could settle down, when they get home, that maybe it was always Charles that he was meant to do so with.
Of course spending time with Erik, and just Erik alone for once, is exactly what he wants. They haven't had much time to themselves at all, so this will be a nice change. There are a lot more of them living in the mansion now since he'd taken in Emma and the rest of her gang, and there's always something to deal with when it comes to the lot of them. When Erik shifts to rest against him again, this time, Charles wraps his arms around the man, hugging him close, and he presses a kiss to the top of his head.
"I'd like that very much. I suppose this is sort of like the calm before the storm, isn't it?" Once they're back at the mansion, they're both going to be busy with recruiting students into the school. Charles wants Erik to come along with him to meet with some of the parents of these young mutants he'd managed to locate via Cerebro. They're going to have to work together to convince both mom and dad that they ought to let their children join them at the school. It'll be an easy enough task for most, but for a few others, well, it could prove to be somewhat difficult, and there's a chance they might not be able to get them all.
"We really ought to take advantage of this time we have together then. Who knows when we'll have the opportunity to take another vacation..." It hadn't been easy to decide to leave Raven with the kids, but he's built enough trust with Emma to know that he isn't going to come home and find the mansion in complete disarray.
"Azazel offered to bring me to Oxford and back via his usual methods, but I'm glad I decided to charter us a plane instead. Did he tell you I lost my breakfast all over him when he decided it was a good idea to teleport me to my meeting last Friday?" Because he was late. Because Erik had sneaked into his bedroom the night before. Because they didn't get any sleep until it was half past six in the morning.
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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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But, in essence, he is just a man, and Charles sees through to the heart of him. He knows this, but even then, it's difficult for him to believe sometimes, to really comprehend that he's there for him, that he understands, that there isn't a need to turn tail and run without so much as leaving a note. Because that is how Erik operates, that is how he needs to in order to survive.
"I'll try." That's not really an answer, but it's the only one he can give at the moment.
He does know that he loves Charles, loves him more than he's loved anyone else before. He knows that Charles is good for him, that much is true, that he has hope when he's with Charles. "I've never felt more safe," he says. "Than when I am with you." And like maybe he can find a place to be free, because even though he isn't tied down anywhere, sometimes the rest of the world just feels like a gilded cage. How does he explain that to Charles?
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"Now let's play a game. And don't bother saying you'll go easy on me because you never do." Charles starts by moving one of his pawns, sort of carelessly, not giving it much thought, deciding to keep it simple at first. The challenging moves can come later when Erik least expects it.
A couple of games and a few more drinks later, and Charles is reading a book out loud while seated next to Erik. He's put a blanket over the man and pulled up the armrest so they can get comfortable next to each other. "You know, the point of me reading to you is so you'll get some sleep. It'll be hours before we land and we both know you didn't get much rest last night." Sean had accidentally broken his bedroom window, again, and he'd insisted that Erik fix it right away because he wasn't going to share a room with Alex. Charles had only found out about it in the morning when the boys had told him about it.
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A couple games later, Erik's got his head cradled against Charles' shoulder, and he isn't falling asleep, but he does want to continue listening to his voice.
"I know," he says, brushing off Charles' concern. "But it's not a problem. I've survived on less." He turns his face in towards Charles a little bit, and he doesn't want to say aloud that now that they're both awake, he doesn't want to miss a moment, even if that means losing out on a little sleep. It's a small price to pay.
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"It's a good thing we're just going to be spending time in my flat in Oxford. I suppose there'll be plenty of opportunities for you to catch up on some sleep then." He turns to the next page of the short novel and continues reading for a bit more before he puts the book down, deciding to focus his attention on Erik instead. If the man's not going to sleep, they might as well talk. But before that, he'll steal some quick kisses first. They're in their own private corner of the chartered plane, so this is perfectly fine.
"Do you know what Raven said when I told her about us? She said she suspected it for weeks because she smelled my shampoo on you. Of all things. I would've thought it would've been the fact we'd start a game of chess but never quite finish it..." He supposes no one pays attention to the chessboard in his study. Or that one time the books were in a haphazard pile on the floor right next to his desk.
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"I'll sleep when you sleep," he resolves, leaning up from where he'd reclined on Charles' chest to kiss him gently. "You know, we should have a bike ride." Oxford's kind of a small town, so it won't be a long one, but he thinks it'll be nice for the two of them to ride around, maybe check out the clock tower.
He doesn't know what else they'll be doing there but research, and staying in so that they can have lots of private time in their well-sound-proofed living quarters. It doesn't sound like a bad shake, and in fact, sounds perfectly like a nice, relaxing vacation. He imagines Charles will get some work done, and maybe Erik will start some writings as well.
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He runs his fingers through Erik's hair, enjoying the little kisses shared between them, and he smiles at the suggestion they go biking around town. Well, that's something he'd never done while he'd been at Oxford. Charles thinks he'd be more than happy to go for a bike ride with his... boyfriend, is it?
"That sounds like a fun idea. I should show you the sights and take you to my favourite pub of course." He really did love his time at Oxford, and if he hadn't met Moira, he probably wouldn't have chosen to return to New York. Instead, he likely would've found a teaching position in Oxford even. But things are even better now, and he's looking forward to a future with Erik and the rest of the mutants at the mansion.
"How about we turn this into a mini vacation for us? I'd love to spoil you." The main reason for returning to Oxford is to complete his research, tidy up the place, pack up his belongings and head home. But well, perhaps there's no need to rush all of that and they can stay on for a few extra days.
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He offers Charles a little kiss before he settles back against his shoulder, half on his chest, soaking in all his touches and physical affectations.
"But I'd like to. Waking up next to you and not sneaking out, bringing you breakfast, watching you work. That sounds like a good time." He likes the thought of them doing something so mundane as just coexisting, because, honestly, Erik had never thought that he could have such a love. He'd not considered that he could have a normal, functional relationship.
It makes him reconsider possibilities, and think that maybe he could settle down, when they get home, that maybe it was always Charles that he was meant to do so with.
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"I'd like that very much. I suppose this is sort of like the calm before the storm, isn't it?" Once they're back at the mansion, they're both going to be busy with recruiting students into the school. Charles wants Erik to come along with him to meet with some of the parents of these young mutants he'd managed to locate via Cerebro. They're going to have to work together to convince both mom and dad that they ought to let their children join them at the school. It'll be an easy enough task for most, but for a few others, well, it could prove to be somewhat difficult, and there's a chance they might not be able to get them all.
"We really ought to take advantage of this time we have together then. Who knows when we'll have the opportunity to take another vacation..." It hadn't been easy to decide to leave Raven with the kids, but he's built enough trust with Emma to know that he isn't going to come home and find the mansion in complete disarray.
"Azazel offered to bring me to Oxford and back via his usual methods, but I'm glad I decided to charter us a plane instead. Did he tell you I lost my breakfast all over him when he decided it was a good idea to teleport me to my meeting last Friday?" Because he was late. Because Erik had sneaked into his bedroom the night before. Because they didn't get any sleep until it was half past six in the morning.
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