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schmericaThat Secret Pact You Made
by Pearl-o
X-men: First Class. Erik/Charles, NC-17, ~1000 words. Warnings for consent play, d/s themes, telepathic bondage.
Summary: If Erik could, he'd be shifting underneath Charles - but Charles has given him this false control, to make up for that he lacks.
*****
"If you don't stop moving," Charles says, "I'll have to restrain you."
His voice is soft, but there's iron under it, too, hard as nails at the core.
Erik tries to imagine it - not handcuffs, of course, nothing he could use his powers on. Would Charles use rope, or improvise, perhaps? Maybe a tie?
"Neither," Charles says. "You know what I'll do." His hand is lying on Erik's bare chest, but barely touching. Little more than a tease, really. He sits next to where Erik is lying naked on the bed, still wearing almost all of his clothes; his sweater and button-down have hit the floor, but that still leaves his undershirt, along with his trousers, his underwear, even his socks.
Erik licks his lips. "Do it, then, if you're going to."
Charles watches him with perfectly calm eyes. He leans over and kisses Erik briefly, moving away after just a moment.
Erik tries to push himself up to follow him, but he can't move. He fights against it, just testing at first, but then with serious intent. Nothing. Not an inch of give, no matter what he does.
All right? Charles's voice in his mind, a quiet reminder that this could stop any time, that Erik would only have to say the word. He thinks his assent as loud as he can, and then what he can feel of Charles goes utterly blank, like an endless brick wall, strong and slick and unbreachable.
"Touch yourself," Charles says. He stands up by the side of the bed. Erik can't turn his head, can only see a bit of him out of the corner of his eye, just enough to know that Charles is removing more of his clothing.
He struggles again, but it's no use. His arms won't rise from the bed. "I can't," he mutters through gritted teeth.
"That wasn't a request. It was an order."
"I can't," Erik repeats, louder, and Charles appears again, directly in his line of sight. He climbs above Erik, straddling his thighs, but holding himself up, so they don't touch at any point. Charles is naked now, too. Erik's eyes go straight to his collarbone, covered with freckles and love bites in various stages of fading, Erik's own marks so vivid on Charles's pale skin.
"You're disappointing me, Erik," Charles says. Erik can feel the faint sorrow he projects, and he closes his eyes at the touch of Charles's hand against his cheek, stroking down his jawline.
He hears Charles's sigh. "You're beautiful, you know."
"Charles," Erik says, and it's not quite a warning.
"Be quiet. I don't want to hear it. I say you're beautiful."
This time, Erik doesn't respond. He breathes heavily as Charles traces each line of his face with one finger. It takes a long time. If Erik could, he'd be shifting underneath Charles - but Charles has given him this false control, to make up for that he lacks.
Charles finishes his exploration by touch at Erik's mouth, his finger catching slightly as he drags it against Erik's lips. Erik flicks his tongue out, tasting Charles's skin, and Charles laughs with something like delight.
"Oh, my darling," Charles says, his voice darker than Erik's ever heard it. "You can't wait for it, can you- You want it so badly. My gorgeous cocksucker. I should make you ask for it, but you never would, would you? You need it, but you won't."
Erik can't stop the noise that comes out of his mouth. He can barely breathe. Charles isn't touching him anywhere, but he can feel the heat of his body, just a few bare inches away. He can't imagine what he looks like, helpless and supine and waiting.
"My cocksucker," Charles says again. "Don't worry, my love. I have what you need. You don't need to- I'll take it from you-"
He's ready for the press of Charles's cock against his mouth, and he opens his mouth wide to take in as much as he can, but Charles pushes in quickly, without a hint of hesitation, forcing Erik to take more and more in.
Erik keeps his eyes closed and breathes through his nose. For a moment he thinks he might gag, but he catches himself. Charles feels deeper than he could possibly be, surely a trick of the angle.
"Suck me," Charles says. "It's all right. You don't have any choice. Let go, Erik--"
Charles fucks his mouth, slow and steady and relentless. Erik can't touch him, can't curl his fingers into the sheets, can't shake the way he longs to. He has no power. Charles could do whatever he likes to him, anything at all. There's something in his chest that's part gratitude and part something else, something he can't name, but he feels it so strongly it's almost painful.
Each time Charles grunts above him, Erik can feel it like a jolt directly to his cock.
Charles pulls out completely when he comes, and Erik opens his eyes to watch him stroke himself through the orgasm, letting his come stripe Erik's jaw and throat. Erik swallows against his sore throat, and he wishes, a little, that Charles had taken away his voice as well, because there's a dozen different things competing to be let out; please is only the least disturbing of them.
"I'm not done yet," Charles says, and Erik thinks maybe he's trying to sound fierce, but it's not as strong as it was before; Charles is fading, maybe, struggling against the post-coital satisfaction that he always melts into. Still, he's trying, and Erik is already so close. It's enough. Charles wipes his hand against the come on Erik's skin and then his hand is on Erik's cock, and it's only a few strokes before Erik is coming.
Charles lifts the restraints at the same moment as his orgasm, and Erik bucks up so hard he almost unseats Charles from his position. It feels like - it feels like - everything.
He lies back, breathing heavily, and he feels the presence of Charles's mind besides his own, once again. Charles is projecting a heavy affection, almost stiflingly so, as he lies down next to Erik and presses a kiss to Erik's temple.
Erik pushes Charles onto his back, pressing him down into the mattress with his weight, and kisses him as if he's a drowning man and Charles is oxygen. He doesn't say thank you.
Charles doesn't say a word, not about any of it, which is the best thing of all; he just smiles with a pure pleasure and curls himself up, resting his head against Erik's chest, until Erik falls into a dreamless sleep.
by Pearl-o
X-men: First Class. Erik/Charles, NC-17, ~1000 words. Warnings for consent play, d/s themes, telepathic bondage.
Summary: If Erik could, he'd be shifting underneath Charles - but Charles has given him this false control, to make up for that he lacks.
*****
"If you don't stop moving," Charles says, "I'll have to restrain you."
His voice is soft, but there's iron under it, too, hard as nails at the core.
Erik tries to imagine it - not handcuffs, of course, nothing he could use his powers on. Would Charles use rope, or improvise, perhaps? Maybe a tie?
"Neither," Charles says. "You know what I'll do." His hand is lying on Erik's bare chest, but barely touching. Little more than a tease, really. He sits next to where Erik is lying naked on the bed, still wearing almost all of his clothes; his sweater and button-down have hit the floor, but that still leaves his undershirt, along with his trousers, his underwear, even his socks.
Erik licks his lips. "Do it, then, if you're going to."
Charles watches him with perfectly calm eyes. He leans over and kisses Erik briefly, moving away after just a moment.
Erik tries to push himself up to follow him, but he can't move. He fights against it, just testing at first, but then with serious intent. Nothing. Not an inch of give, no matter what he does.
All right? Charles's voice in his mind, a quiet reminder that this could stop any time, that Erik would only have to say the word. He thinks his assent as loud as he can, and then what he can feel of Charles goes utterly blank, like an endless brick wall, strong and slick and unbreachable.
"Touch yourself," Charles says. He stands up by the side of the bed. Erik can't turn his head, can only see a bit of him out of the corner of his eye, just enough to know that Charles is removing more of his clothing.
He struggles again, but it's no use. His arms won't rise from the bed. "I can't," he mutters through gritted teeth.
"That wasn't a request. It was an order."
"I can't," Erik repeats, louder, and Charles appears again, directly in his line of sight. He climbs above Erik, straddling his thighs, but holding himself up, so they don't touch at any point. Charles is naked now, too. Erik's eyes go straight to his collarbone, covered with freckles and love bites in various stages of fading, Erik's own marks so vivid on Charles's pale skin.
"You're disappointing me, Erik," Charles says. Erik can feel the faint sorrow he projects, and he closes his eyes at the touch of Charles's hand against his cheek, stroking down his jawline.
He hears Charles's sigh. "You're beautiful, you know."
"Charles," Erik says, and it's not quite a warning.
"Be quiet. I don't want to hear it. I say you're beautiful."
This time, Erik doesn't respond. He breathes heavily as Charles traces each line of his face with one finger. It takes a long time. If Erik could, he'd be shifting underneath Charles - but Charles has given him this false control, to make up for that he lacks.
Charles finishes his exploration by touch at Erik's mouth, his finger catching slightly as he drags it against Erik's lips. Erik flicks his tongue out, tasting Charles's skin, and Charles laughs with something like delight.
"Oh, my darling," Charles says, his voice darker than Erik's ever heard it. "You can't wait for it, can you- You want it so badly. My gorgeous cocksucker. I should make you ask for it, but you never would, would you? You need it, but you won't."
Erik can't stop the noise that comes out of his mouth. He can barely breathe. Charles isn't touching him anywhere, but he can feel the heat of his body, just a few bare inches away. He can't imagine what he looks like, helpless and supine and waiting.
"My cocksucker," Charles says again. "Don't worry, my love. I have what you need. You don't need to- I'll take it from you-"
He's ready for the press of Charles's cock against his mouth, and he opens his mouth wide to take in as much as he can, but Charles pushes in quickly, without a hint of hesitation, forcing Erik to take more and more in.
Erik keeps his eyes closed and breathes through his nose. For a moment he thinks he might gag, but he catches himself. Charles feels deeper than he could possibly be, surely a trick of the angle.
"Suck me," Charles says. "It's all right. You don't have any choice. Let go, Erik--"
Charles fucks his mouth, slow and steady and relentless. Erik can't touch him, can't curl his fingers into the sheets, can't shake the way he longs to. He has no power. Charles could do whatever he likes to him, anything at all. There's something in his chest that's part gratitude and part something else, something he can't name, but he feels it so strongly it's almost painful.
Each time Charles grunts above him, Erik can feel it like a jolt directly to his cock.
Charles pulls out completely when he comes, and Erik opens his eyes to watch him stroke himself through the orgasm, letting his come stripe Erik's jaw and throat. Erik swallows against his sore throat, and he wishes, a little, that Charles had taken away his voice as well, because there's a dozen different things competing to be let out; please is only the least disturbing of them.
"I'm not done yet," Charles says, and Erik thinks maybe he's trying to sound fierce, but it's not as strong as it was before; Charles is fading, maybe, struggling against the post-coital satisfaction that he always melts into. Still, he's trying, and Erik is already so close. It's enough. Charles wipes his hand against the come on Erik's skin and then his hand is on Erik's cock, and it's only a few strokes before Erik is coming.
Charles lifts the restraints at the same moment as his orgasm, and Erik bucks up so hard he almost unseats Charles from his position. It feels like - it feels like - everything.
He lies back, breathing heavily, and he feels the presence of Charles's mind besides his own, once again. Charles is projecting a heavy affection, almost stiflingly so, as he lies down next to Erik and presses a kiss to Erik's temple.
Erik pushes Charles onto his back, pressing him down into the mattress with his weight, and kisses him as if he's a drowning man and Charles is oxygen. He doesn't say thank you.
Charles doesn't say a word, not about any of it, which is the best thing of all; he just smiles with a pure pleasure and curls himself up, resting his head against Erik's chest, until Erik falls into a dreamless sleep.
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(no subject)
16/12/11 14:45 (UTC)Holy shit. It's like you looked into my very soul. This is one of my very favorite D/s dynamics, like, I wrote an *essay* on how hot it is and it's so beautifully done here, just spelled out enough to hint at more without losing sight of Erik's headspace and aaaaah I love this so, so much. It's like you wrote me birthday fic, seriously, I can't even. The line-tracing! The endless brick wall! I'll take it from you. It feels like everything, aaah. I LOVE YOU ALSO HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY YOU'RE THE LOVELIEST.
(no subject)
16/12/11 23:31 (UTC)