Luke could hear the concern in Alex’s voice through the locked bathroom door from where he was currently slumped on the floor next to the toilet, regretting his life choices. He should have stopped three drinks ago, maybe even four. He definitely should have said no to that last shot.
His stomach was churning, extreme nausea threatening him every time he even thought about moving. Standing up? A no go. He didn’t think he could even sit up without being sick. Even the idea of opening his mouth to respond to Alex made him queasy.
Luke tried to open his eyes first (baby steps) but that just seemed to make the world spin faster. If he survived this, he was going to kill Bobby for suggesting those shots.
“Mhnanmm fisdne,” Luke summoned the energy to shout to Alex. It was supposed to be “I’m fine,” but it came out a lot more slurred than he intended.
He knew Alex would be continuing to worry about him so Luke dug down deep before hauling himself onto his knees and crawling over to unlock the door. As soon as the lock was flipped, he lunged back to his safe place lying next to the toilet.
“‘Lexxxx I don’t feel good,” Luke whined as the door opened. He had mostly opened the door to ease Alex’s worry but it had also been a selfish move on his part. This way, Alex would come and hold his hair back and maybe even rub his back. He would take care of him, bring him water and make sure nothing bad happened to him. Alex felt like comfort, and safety, and home.
Charles smirked at Erik’s comment. He didn’t need his telepathy powers to sense his admiration, he could see it in his eyes. It had been a few weeks of working together to find mutants for their project, their team, their chance at taking down Shaw. In that time, he found he liked the feeling of Erik’s attention being focused on him. The compliment sent a wave of warm feelings through him. His cheeks were already hot, the drinks they’d shared between them over the course of the evening had tinted them a rosy red.
“You are too, darling,” Charles replied, the pet name slipping out of his mouth before he could do a thing to stop it. Whilst things had so far remained platonic, it didn’t mean that Charles wanted it to stay that way. It was taking all of his self-restraint to stop himself from dipping into Erik’s mind to find out the other man’s thoughts on the topic. Damn his moral code. “Imagine, together we could give a whole new meaning to the term ‘power couple’,” He joked. He was well into tipsy so he had no hesitation or inhibitions about flirting so shamelessly. Charles might not be able to justify reading Erik’s thoughts, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use his words. If there was even the slightest chance that it would end up with Erik in his bed tonight, he was going to take it.
@vividwrites said: "stay where you are, i’m on my way."
Not knowing what was going on was a more common occurrence for him than Wade would like to admit. However, he didn't know what was going on even more than usual as he looked around the grey cell-type room that he appeared to be locked in.
He didn't know where he was, or how he got there, or why his leg was aching like a motherfucker. He glanced down, spotting a bullet-shaped hole in the part of the red Deadpool suit that stretched across his left thigh. Even with that one mystery solved, he still didn't have much of a grasp on reality.
There was a hard lump digging into his side underneath his suit. He dug around a little, fishing out a small silver flip phone with a Hello Kitty sticker stuck across it from one of the concealed pockets. Clearly whoever had put him in here and taken his katanas hadn't searched him all that thoroughly.
The phone looked like the one he had when he was in his early twenties, a real old-school type. Either he had accidentally time-travelled back to the early 00s and this was his current phone, or he had a burner phone that he didn't remember buying.
Wade cautiously flipped the phone open, wondering how he was going to choose who to call when he couldn't remember who anyone was. How would he know who to trust? It was logical to assume that if they were saved in the phone's contact list then they wouldn't be an enemy. Who would even save those numbers? Oh right, Wade would. Wade had. What? It's not his fault he enjoyed the hate-sex so much.
That particular dilemma was solved for him though when he opened the contact list to find only one number saved. He scrolled through the call logs, seeing that he'd spoken with the number most days for the past few months. The calls were both ingoing and outgoing, ranging from 10 seconds in length to a few that hit the 2 hour or 3 hour marks.
Wade wasn't one for overthinking in situations like these. He was already locked in an unknown room with what he strongly suspected to be a hefty case of amnesia. What was the worst that this phone stranger could do to him?
So he hit dial, curious to find out who was on the other end of the phone. He didn't have to wait long to find out, the call connected after mere seconds. His curiosity only continued to pique at just how relieved the voice on the other end appeared to be at hearing from him. Had someone actually missed him? Worried about him? That was so off-brand for Wade, he was always the disposable one.
"Look-" Wade cut off the stream of questions coming at him over the phone. "I gotta be honest with you, I don't know jack shit. I don't know where I am, I don't know how I got here, I don't know who you are or how I know you. I barely know who I am, though I'm certain that's fairly normal for me and probably not a symptom of this amnesia. I don't know if you want to hurt me or harm me but I can't help you either way."
There was nothing but silence on the line, and Wade even checked to see if the call had dropped.
"stay where you are, i’m on my way."
"Well I don't exactly have a choice," Wade grumbled at being told to stay where he was, eyeing up the four walls of the room. There didn't seem to be any way out except through the locked door. "And wait, how do you know where I am? Even I don't know that."
There was no answer to that, only a dial tone as the call ended. Well colour Wade intrigued. He would just have to sit tight and wait to see who showed up as his knight in shining armour, or who showed up to kill him. Either or. It was going to be hot regardless.
Sugar didn't know what had happened. One moment she was just enjoying some tequila shots with Timothee and the next, she was struggling to stay upright as the world spun around her. She hadn't felt this dizzy since the Tilt-A-Whirl at Florence's Halloween party. The loud music blaring out of the speakers didn't help, neither did the strobing lights of the nightclub.
She had managed to somehow dial Sebastian's number in her drunken haze as she stumbled towards the tables at the back, trying to get somewhere quieter. The people that cared enough about her to come and get her from West Hollywood in the middle of the night were few and far between. The number of people she trusted made that pool smaller still.
Sugar wasn't even convinced that Sebastian would answer his phone, but she was happy to be proven wrong when the call connected and instantly relieved when he offered to come and collect her in person once she explained the situation and her suspicion that she'd had her drink spiked. Sugar was grateful that he didn't just send his driver or tell her to get an Uber. Once she'd hung up, she tossed her phone into her clutch and slumped into one of the seats, willing time to pass quickly.
She had her head in her hands, staring down at the floor and willing herself not to be sick in public when she heard her name. She looked up, relief washing over her as she saw Sebastian standing in front of her.
"You're here!" Sugar grinned as she pulled herself out of her chair. She tried to wrap her arms around him in a hug but her legs gave way, causing her to stumble and put most of her body weight on her friend. "Thank you so so so much for coming," She slurred, trying to right her balance, aware that Sebastian holding her up was the only reason she wasn't a crumpled heap on the floor.
"I hope I didn't disturb date night with you and Blainey-boo," She said, far too loudly for something that was supposed to be a secret. For all the world knew, it was her and Blaine that were dating instead. "But thank you again, love you long time, Sebby."
Luke’s chest heaved, rising and falling dramatically as he tried to catch his breath. He and Alex had just shared their first kiss (and then six more kisses) in the supply closet of The Orpheum. They’d come off stage not long before, Luke dragging Alex into the closet whilst still high on the adrenaline that performing live gave him. He had been harbouring feelings for his bandmate for a while and he’d finally decided to do something about it.
Any lingering questions about his sexuality had promptly vanished as soon as his lips met Alex’s, electricity seemingly sparking its way through his veins as they made out in the near-darkness. A small window at the top was filtering in some limited streetlight, illuminating Alex’s features softly. Luke had it bad for Alex, there was no doubts about that. Well, at least from his side. Alex seemed to be having doubts on his behalf, which was typically on brand for him. Luke sometimes wished he could wrap Alex in cotton wool and take those worries away.
“Dude,” Luke started, smiling warmly across at Alex. “We can stop if you want, but I’m all in. I want to be more than just your friend and I don’t want to stop”. He made sure he was extremely clear, not leaving any room for ambiguity or misunderstandings. This was too important for that. “In fact, I’ll show you how much I don’t want to stop,” He added, crowding into Alex’s space and pushing him gently against the back wall of the closet. He leaned in, happy to find that their eighth kiss was just as perfect as the ones that came before it.
[ GRIEF ] for receiver to wake up just as sender is saying goodbye, because the doctors told them to.
Consciousness came to Charles like the tide coming into the shore. At first there were small waves, gently lapping at the sand before filtering away again. Noises would filter into his mind before disappearing once again, ebbing back out of focus. There was a faint beep, hushed voices and the steady hum of machines.
After that, the waves came more frequently and they stayed for longer. The noises became more refined, and louder. He could almost distinguish whose voice was whose. He was yet to be able to open his eyes, but he'd already figured out he was in a hospital bed, most likely the one in the medical wing of the mansion. That had been easy once he'd identified the constant beep as a heart rate monitor. The voices were all projecting concern too, they were worried about him.
Whilst in his somewhat unconscious state, Charles had no sense of time passing or how long he'd been there. His senses continued to sharpen though, which meant he heard every word that Erik said to his unmoving body an indeterminate amount of time later. He heard the heartfelt goodbye, his heart cracking a little at the emotion evident in Erik's voice. Erik thought he was dead, or dying, Charles wasn't sure which one was worse. He just knew he had to fix it.
Charles could feel Erik's hand resting in his own, and he summoned as much energy as he could to squeeze it gently. It was a gargantuan effort, but it paid off as he heard Erik gasp.
"You didn't think I'd leave you behind, did you?" Charles asked teasingly, his voice sounding raw from lack of use. He blinked his eyes open a few moments later, catching sight of Erik. The man looked terrible, like he hadn't been home in days. His clothes were rumpled, his hair messy and his cheeks were tear-stained.
"Were you crying over me? You silly man, I'm right here," Charles added in an attempt to lighten the mood. He watched as Erik swung his head towards the door, narrowing his eyes at where Hank was standing, looking dumbfounded with a clipboard in his hand.
"Don't be mad at Hank, he really did think I was dying. He wasn't messing with you," Charles added, his telepathy beginning to fill in the gaps. "It was a lovely speech though, I'm very glad I got to hear it." His voice was fading again, as was his energy. Whatever Apocalypse had done to him, it was going to take a while for him to bounce back.
"I'm going to have a little nap, feel free to tell me that you love me again when I next wake up," Charles teased, squeezing Erik's hand once again as he let himself drift back towards sleep. "And I love you too."
Charles had no idea why he had agreed to go ice skating with Erik. Okay he had some idea. It was probably to do with Erik's charming smile that seemed to be just for him, and the blue eyes that Charles constantly found himself getting lost in. Don't get him started on the voice, he'd probably do anything that Erik asked of him and the man didn't even have telepathic powers.
But still, he should have thought about it for longer than the half a second that it took him to agree to Erik's suggestion that they take to the ice that had formed on the lake at the back of the manor grounds in the recent cold weather. Apparently Erik had even asked Bobby to sure up the ice just in case.
What Charles had failed to remember, is that he was terrible at ice skating. It required a balance and gracefulness that he just did not possess. Whenever he tried to propel himself forward, he would inevitably lose his balance and end up waving his arms around frantically as he tried to stay upright. That usually ended in two scenarios. He’d either hit the ice with a bone-aching thud, or he’d manage to stay upright long enough to right his centre of gravity. Then he’d try to move again and the whole process would start over.
What Charles had also failed to remember, or rather had failed to take into consideration, was that ice skates were made of metal. Metal which meant that Erik was currently gliding around the ice like a damn Olympic figure skater. If only he’d worn the outfit of one. Charles thought to himself as he watched Erik smoothly traverse the ice as if it wasn’t even there.
“You really are brilliant, you know,” Charles commented as Erik swooped past him, before the other man spun to skate backwards so he could talk to Charles. Charles always loved watching Erik use his powers. He had such control over them, such finesse. It was always thrilling to watch and today’s ice spectacle was no different.
“But if you are quite done showing off, I could really use a hand,” Charles admitted. He blushed a little as Erik literally held out a hand for him to take, though he could always blame his rose tinted cheeks on the cold air around them. Before he could even register what was happening, his feet began moving of their own accord. It took him a second to realise that his feet hadn’t actually become sentient, but rather Erik was controlling the blades attached to his skates. It was a little jarring at first but he soon relaxed into it, letting the blades lead the way as Erik held onto his hand, skating at his side.
“Thank you, this is a marked improvement,” He grinned at Erik, feeling his face warm as the smile was returned. “Remind me never to go ice skating without you again, especially if Raven is around. I’ll never live it down otherwise, at least you were kind enough to hide your laughter.”
