#v: first class

[groovyxgenes-archive]

@metallsinne

Charles grunts as he’s pulled from the water up onto the ship’s deck. Immediately, he finds himself and the man he’s just rescued surrounded by agents badgering them with questions and orders. Charles’ head is still swimming, blocking out the agents as his eyes focus on Moira first. She hands him two towels and speaks words of concern to him that go unheard. 

The only thing Charles can feel is Erik’s grip on the ship. His hand grips the railing hard enough to dent it, but Charles knows he also has a very powerful magnetic grip on the entirety of the ship, both grounding and protecting himself. Erik’s brainwaves are piercing, practically screaming at Charles, the way they had in the first place that had made Charles notice him in the water. Erik reminds him of an animal backed into a corner, and Charles notices how utterly surrounded they are by government agents. No wonder the newcomer is so uneasy. 

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen, please,” Charles says finally, spreading out his arms as his mind commands the men to give them some space. All of the agents - every single one - stop talking and back up several spaces. Charles gives them a friendly smile and continues. “I appreciate your concern, but we’ve just had a very trying several minutes. Surely your questions can be saved for later, yes?” Charles doesn’t give them a chance to answer - they all just nod and disperse. Moira is the only one left, eyeing Charles suspiciously. He takes the towels from her with a polite smile, and thanks her before dismissing her as well. 

Once they’re alone, Charles turns to Erik cautiously and extends a towel to him. “Here,” he offers. “We need to dry off, or we’ll catch our deaths like this.” He starts drying his own hair off, patting down his arms and legs as he continues the conversation for Erik. “I apologize for my rather forceful intrusion of your mind, my friend. I give you my word, I don’t normally do that. I was just concerned for your safety, and...” Charles trails off before giving him a remorseful smile. 

“Well, I do hope you can forgive me.”

[ziischeln]

Charles' face twists up into a smile when Erik doesn't refuse him. He rolls onto his toes and savours the tingling feeling when their lips meet. His fingertips move up to trace Erik's jawline, and his hips press against Erik's hands (he's been slowly trying to encourage more touching). When they part, he doesn't fuss and he lets Erik have his space. "Yes," he smiles, running a hand through his hair. "Though I wouldn't say no to another, if you were so inclined." He's only mostly joking.

(x)

“I believe you,” Erik replies, side-eyeing him. His jaw feels--ticklish, where Charles’ fingertips have been. For a moment, he considers leaning in again- it’s not as if Erik doesn’t enjoy kissing him, after all. And when he looks at Charles, at the awful sweatervest and ridiculous pants and how pleased with both himself and Erik he looks, his breath catches in his throat a little and it’s an effort to shove down the knot of emotion that swells in the middle of his chest, like a bubble waiting to burst (and it will burst, he’s sure of it). 

He’s about to turn away, to start packing his few belongings for tomorrow’s road trip, when something snags at the edges of his awareness and catches his attention. 

Did he... pull Charles’ fly down while they were kissing? Without noticing? 

Erik’s face burns as he draws the zipper back up, hands busy with the small case that contains his things, and doesn’t say a word.

[ziischeln]

How do you like to sleep?

“Alone,” he says curtly, the usual air of disinterest tinged faintly with suspicion. “And facing the door.”

(alone, he says, as if the warmest nights of his life weren’t spent with his wife’s body curled against his, her cold hands on his chest, leeching the heat from him while he burned like a furnace. 

 alone, he says, as if he hasn’t gracefully acquiesced to spending nights in a single motel bed with charles, dropping into sleep so easily he sometimes suspects interference, but he tells himself there are worse things charles could do than force him to have a restful night’s sleep.)

[ziischeln]

@prcfxavier (from here)

“I was going to go for a run.”

He really hadn’t meant to wake him. But in the dingy motel room they’d picked out for the next few days, Erik couldn’t blame Charles for sleeping lightly. The place made his skin crawl on account of hygiene alone, let alone the odd noises and hushed arguments coming from the surrounding rooms.

Erik looked restless, was restless. He wanted to hunt Shaw down now, not waste his time recruiting what was so far turning out to be a bunch of children, Darwin aside. He couldn’t, of course. This was a necessary step in the process. That didn’t stop him from hating it.

He wondered, idly, if Charles knew what he was thinking. If he could feel it.

“What are we doing, Charles? Half of the mutants we’ve found are kids - most of them aren’t interested in joining us, and none of them - none of you - would last five minutes against Shaw.”

[ziischeln]

[fc] "May I have a kiss?" He's smirking, hands clasped behind his back as he rocks back into his heels and then up onto his toes with a bounce again repeatedly.

Erik’s brow furrows. He looks at Charles skeptically, still trying to acclimatize to his habit of making simple, unnecessary requests of Erik. And they are requests; Erik’s declined on multiple occasions just to... to test, and Charles doesn’t push.

“Alright,” he says, somewhat dubiously. “If you want.” 

He tilts his head down just-so, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Charles’ lips. Unsure of what to do with his hands, they hover tentatively over Charles’ waist, the pads of his fingers barely brushing against the awful sweatervest Charles is wearing. The motel room feels too--too quiet, all of a sudden, and Erik’s hyper-aware of how hard his heart is beating, and the sound of their combined breathing, and the hum of the metal in Charles’ wristwatch and zipper and the spare change in his right pocket. 

They part, and Erik steps back to regain some semblance of personal space, for all that Charles is so fond of invading it. 

“Satisfied?”

[ziischeln]

"I sprouted wings and have been living on the streets for eight years. Forgive me if I don't know how to fly very well." She clenched her jaw, trying not to react to the pain.

“You’d think eight years would have given you plenty of time to practice,” he retorts smoothly, sticking a small band-aid onto one of her smaller grazes for good measure. Erik pushes himself up from where he’s been kneeling, wiping his hands off on the handkerchief in his pocket. “You’ll live,” he declares dismissively. “I expect Charles will want to know how you got on.”

[ziischeln]

"That hurts." She hissed as he bandaged her. She'd flown into a tree. Her training was not going great. (FIRST CLASS)

“Good,” says Erik flatly, without looking up. “Let it serve as a reminder to watch where you’re going, in future.” He can practically feel Charles’ disapproval from the opposite side of the mansion, but Erik didn’t sign up to be some kind of mutant tutor, so forgive him if his teaching methods aren’t up to standard.

[ziischeln]

Erik has him in stitches, truly. Charles is holding his gut as he laughs aloud on their shared hotel bed. Over what, originally, he can't quite remember. Something about Erik's hair and its colour being that of someone twice his age. But it's escalated and something in Erik's intonation has Charles /rolling/. Erik is amused too, despite pretending otherwise. Charles can feel it. Finally, when he catches his breath, he scoots to Erik and nuzzles his face. "Well I think it's groovy, baby." [fc :)]

He’s lying on his side on Charles bed, propped on one elbow with chin in hand and a smirk on his lips. Making Charles cackle with laughter like this is satisfying; Erik can’t remember he made anyone laugh like this, not even Raven (and he can, bizarrely, usually bring out a few snorts in her). He doesn’t even shift away when Charles’ nose bumps against his cheek, lips close to his ear. Let him have his moment, Erik thinks patiently-

-then Charles ruins it and Erik jerks away so quickly he barely realises he’s done it until his back knocks into the wall, a black void threatening to swallow up his conscious memory- no, no no no stay here- I don’t understand nothing happened nothing happened why is it--what did he say?

He can hear his own breath rushing from him in sharp, harsh bursts, heart thundering in his ears. He hears himself snap at Charles, “Don’t touch me,” from somewhere behind his own left shoulder even if he can’t feel his body anymore.

What did he say? 

The headboard of Charles’ bed rattles with the lighting fixtures. Erik’s hands ball into fists, coiled so tightly he feels like his body’s going to snap. It’s like being in danger- like being afraid- but nothing happened nothing happened why is he terrified-

He drops against the wall, sinking down until his knees are pulled to his chest and his head is hidden between them, fingers fisting into his hair and pulling tight to try and ground himself. Hears himself mutter for fuck’s sake then no and make it stop and can’t quite tell if he’s talking from the present or not. This has happened before. But last time, it was the night after he saw Shaw’s picture on the wall in--

                                            oh.