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schmericaA Particular Nuance
by Pearl-o
X-men: First Class, Erik/Charles, NC-17, ~1200 words.
Summary: It takes Charles a long time to figure out why the sex is so good.
*****
It takes Charles a long time to figure it out. He knows immediately, of course, that the sex is good - the best he's ever had, if he's being completely honest, and amazingly, it just keeps getting better as the weeks go on. It's the why of it that he overlooks.
There are other elements to distract him from the real reason. Erik is attractive in a way Charles finds irresistable, intense and looming and ridiculously fit. He's another mutant; it's the first time that Charles has been able to be honest with a bed partner about his own abilities. And there's so much going on, with their project, their mission - the excitement and thrill mixing with the worry and danger - so that his emotions are always running high.
But none of that is why. It's Erik, himself. It's the way he feels about Charles, and the way Charles can feel every ounce of it, pulsing through his own body, as sudden and powerful and uncontrollable as a bolt of lightning.
Erik wants Charles like nobody has ever wanted him before, with a ferocity that should probably be frightening. He watches Charles carefully, no matter where they are or what they're doing, never a moment when he's not aware. Even when he doesn't especially like Charles, like in those first early days, he still wants him. As their friendship deepens, his feelings do too. Affection, fondness, protectiveness all make their way into the mix.
Being the focus of all of that - it's amazing. Charles knows his own character flaws, for the most part, and he's aware that he can be a selfish person, but he can't resist this. He revels in the knowledge of his hold over Erik. Erik, strong and complex and so determinedly independent, so sure he's never needed anyone else in the world, and he needs Charles.
Of course, Charles is aware of another flaw of his character as well, and that is that he can be somewhat oblivious, even to things that should be obvious. In his own defense, it's not as though he's loved so many people in his life. Raven, of course, but what he feels for Raven bares no resemblances to what he feels for Erik. Beyond her, he has to strain to remember. Surely there was a time as a child when he loved his mother; before he could look at her without feeling only the force of her disappointment. His first nanny, perhaps, before his telepathy had yet advanced enough to realize that he was only a job and a charge to her.
Never romantic love. He's seen it in other people's minds any number of times. It didn't prepare him at all to experience it himself. No wonder it took him a while to recognize it.
On his back, in his bed, in the house he grew up in - another thing that appears new and full of possibilities now, in the wake of this knowledge of others like him - Erik fucks him.
Erik does it with all the strength, determination and single-mindedness he brings to all of his endeavours. Charles's arms are above his own head, his wrists held in Erik's tight grasp, no give no matter how Charles moves or strains against him. His legs are wrapped around Erik's waist, doing his best to pull him in closer, deeper, as if such a thing was even possible.
They're not kissing, not any more, and Charles can't do anything but stare up at Erik's face. The closed eyes and faint brush of eyelashes against his cheek; the unruly lock of sweat-damp hair falling across his temple; the heavy lines of his brow marking his concentration as he fucks Charles thoroughly, heavy breathes and grunts escaping his mouth with every new thrust.
He's gorgeous.
"Erik," Charles says, "look at me."
Erik opens his eyes. They look pale and wild and desperate, flickering quickly over every part of Charles's face.
Charles arches up against Erik's grip as best as he can, but it doesn't bring Erik's face closer to his. "Say it," Charles says, and the low growl of his own voice takes him by surprise. "Say it, Erik, I want to hear you say it-"
"Bastard," Erik mumbles, almost incoherent, and he leans forward to kiss Charles, forcing Charles's mouth open wide to let him in. Charles can't help moaning at the touch of his tongue, but it's still not enough.
Please, Charles sends him. Please. Do it.
Erik breaks the kiss, making a noise against Charles's mouth that almost sounds like a broken laugh. "I love you. Is that what you want to hear, Charles?"
"Yes," Charles hisses, squeezing his legs even tighter, locking his ankles in the small of Erik's back.
"I fucking love you," Erik says. "God help me, I do-" He cuts himself off, bringing him mouth down to the curve of Charles's neck, and it's just as he begins to suck that Charles's orgasm hits, his untouched cock spilling between them onto both their bellies.
Erik stills himself as Charles trembles through it, shaking and spasming around Erik's cock. When Charles's body goes lax again, Erik lets go of Charles's wrists. Charles takes a moment to stretch his arms, feeling the ache of the sore muscles, and then he reaches out to grab Erik's shoulders and pull him closer, silently urging Erik to keep fucking him.
Erik buries his head against Charles's shoulder, mouthing blindly against Charles's skin. Charles rests his hand in Erik's hair, combing his fingers through it; it makes Erik shiver, and Charles can sense the way it soothes him and ratchets him up further at the same time.
"Me, too, you know," Charles says, shutting his eyes against the view of the ceiling. "I do, too."
When Erik comes, the force of the sensations is almost overwhelming, both physically (the always-bizarre feeling of Erik's semen within Charles's body, the way Charles's used ass makes clear its awareness of both the roughness of the sex and the size of Erik's cock) and mentally (the carnival mirror feeling of experiencing Erik's orgasm through his telepathy, when he's still so strung out from his own pleasure).
Erik lets himself down gently, his weight covering Charles like a blanket. He rests his head against Charles's chest, just above his heart, and Charles holds his head there as they both catch their breath. Erik doesn't pull out immediately; Charles has let him know before that he prefers it like this, them still together and touching every way that they can. In the afterglow, when their minds are still so open to each other, so sensitive, Charles needs to feel the connection of their bodies as well, as much as he can. It grounds him. It's comforting.
"There," Erik says after a minute, slowly raising himself above Charles with a groan. His voice is dry, almost mocking, but it doesn't matter, when Charles can see so easily to what lies curled beneath it. "Are you satisfied now, Charles?"
Charles thinks it over, but only briefly. "Yes," he says. "I rather think I am."
by Pearl-o
X-men: First Class, Erik/Charles, NC-17, ~1200 words.
Summary: It takes Charles a long time to figure out why the sex is so good.
*****
It takes Charles a long time to figure it out. He knows immediately, of course, that the sex is good - the best he's ever had, if he's being completely honest, and amazingly, it just keeps getting better as the weeks go on. It's the why of it that he overlooks.
There are other elements to distract him from the real reason. Erik is attractive in a way Charles finds irresistable, intense and looming and ridiculously fit. He's another mutant; it's the first time that Charles has been able to be honest with a bed partner about his own abilities. And there's so much going on, with their project, their mission - the excitement and thrill mixing with the worry and danger - so that his emotions are always running high.
But none of that is why. It's Erik, himself. It's the way he feels about Charles, and the way Charles can feel every ounce of it, pulsing through his own body, as sudden and powerful and uncontrollable as a bolt of lightning.
Erik wants Charles like nobody has ever wanted him before, with a ferocity that should probably be frightening. He watches Charles carefully, no matter where they are or what they're doing, never a moment when he's not aware. Even when he doesn't especially like Charles, like in those first early days, he still wants him. As their friendship deepens, his feelings do too. Affection, fondness, protectiveness all make their way into the mix.
Being the focus of all of that - it's amazing. Charles knows his own character flaws, for the most part, and he's aware that he can be a selfish person, but he can't resist this. He revels in the knowledge of his hold over Erik. Erik, strong and complex and so determinedly independent, so sure he's never needed anyone else in the world, and he needs Charles.
Of course, Charles is aware of another flaw of his character as well, and that is that he can be somewhat oblivious, even to things that should be obvious. In his own defense, it's not as though he's loved so many people in his life. Raven, of course, but what he feels for Raven bares no resemblances to what he feels for Erik. Beyond her, he has to strain to remember. Surely there was a time as a child when he loved his mother; before he could look at her without feeling only the force of her disappointment. His first nanny, perhaps, before his telepathy had yet advanced enough to realize that he was only a job and a charge to her.
Never romantic love. He's seen it in other people's minds any number of times. It didn't prepare him at all to experience it himself. No wonder it took him a while to recognize it.
On his back, in his bed, in the house he grew up in - another thing that appears new and full of possibilities now, in the wake of this knowledge of others like him - Erik fucks him.
Erik does it with all the strength, determination and single-mindedness he brings to all of his endeavours. Charles's arms are above his own head, his wrists held in Erik's tight grasp, no give no matter how Charles moves or strains against him. His legs are wrapped around Erik's waist, doing his best to pull him in closer, deeper, as if such a thing was even possible.
They're not kissing, not any more, and Charles can't do anything but stare up at Erik's face. The closed eyes and faint brush of eyelashes against his cheek; the unruly lock of sweat-damp hair falling across his temple; the heavy lines of his brow marking his concentration as he fucks Charles thoroughly, heavy breathes and grunts escaping his mouth with every new thrust.
He's gorgeous.
"Erik," Charles says, "look at me."
Erik opens his eyes. They look pale and wild and desperate, flickering quickly over every part of Charles's face.
Charles arches up against Erik's grip as best as he can, but it doesn't bring Erik's face closer to his. "Say it," Charles says, and the low growl of his own voice takes him by surprise. "Say it, Erik, I want to hear you say it-"
"Bastard," Erik mumbles, almost incoherent, and he leans forward to kiss Charles, forcing Charles's mouth open wide to let him in. Charles can't help moaning at the touch of his tongue, but it's still not enough.
Please, Charles sends him. Please. Do it.
Erik breaks the kiss, making a noise against Charles's mouth that almost sounds like a broken laugh. "I love you. Is that what you want to hear, Charles?"
"Yes," Charles hisses, squeezing his legs even tighter, locking his ankles in the small of Erik's back.
"I fucking love you," Erik says. "God help me, I do-" He cuts himself off, bringing him mouth down to the curve of Charles's neck, and it's just as he begins to suck that Charles's orgasm hits, his untouched cock spilling between them onto both their bellies.
Erik stills himself as Charles trembles through it, shaking and spasming around Erik's cock. When Charles's body goes lax again, Erik lets go of Charles's wrists. Charles takes a moment to stretch his arms, feeling the ache of the sore muscles, and then he reaches out to grab Erik's shoulders and pull him closer, silently urging Erik to keep fucking him.
Erik buries his head against Charles's shoulder, mouthing blindly against Charles's skin. Charles rests his hand in Erik's hair, combing his fingers through it; it makes Erik shiver, and Charles can sense the way it soothes him and ratchets him up further at the same time.
"Me, too, you know," Charles says, shutting his eyes against the view of the ceiling. "I do, too."
When Erik comes, the force of the sensations is almost overwhelming, both physically (the always-bizarre feeling of Erik's semen within Charles's body, the way Charles's used ass makes clear its awareness of both the roughness of the sex and the size of Erik's cock) and mentally (the carnival mirror feeling of experiencing Erik's orgasm through his telepathy, when he's still so strung out from his own pleasure).
Erik lets himself down gently, his weight covering Charles like a blanket. He rests his head against Charles's chest, just above his heart, and Charles holds his head there as they both catch their breath. Erik doesn't pull out immediately; Charles has let him know before that he prefers it like this, them still together and touching every way that they can. In the afterglow, when their minds are still so open to each other, so sensitive, Charles needs to feel the connection of their bodies as well, as much as he can. It grounds him. It's comforting.
"There," Erik says after a minute, slowly raising himself above Charles with a groan. His voice is dry, almost mocking, but it doesn't matter, when Charles can see so easily to what lies curled beneath it. "Are you satisfied now, Charles?"
Charles thinks it over, but only briefly. "Yes," he says. "I rather think I am."
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