fic: a nice boy (xmfc)
10/8/12 22:13![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
schmericaA Nice Boy
by Pearl-o
X-men: First Class, Charles/Erik, PG, 750 words. Modern no powers AU. Inspired by this picture.
Summary: "Why don't you ever invite me to brunch?" Charles says.
*****
"Why don't you ever invite me to brunch?" Charles says. He's sprawled across the unmade bed, dressed in his schlubby weekend clothes, so different from the carefully tailored suits and slacks he wears all during the week. His hair is rumpled, and he hasn't shaved yet since Friday morning. He should look like a hobo, Erik thinks, so it's rather unfair how inviting he looks instead.
"It's brunch with my parents," Erik says. "It's a family thing. You're not family."
"I'm practically family," Charles argues.
Erik shoots him a look as he grabs his jacket from the closet. "Don't be ridiculous."
Charles makes an expression that Erik can only describe as a smirk and folds his arms across his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits. "One of those you're going to have to admit we're in a relationship, you know. We've been together for ages."
"Six months isn't ages-"
"It is for you," Charles interjects serenely.
"-And we're not dating. We're friends who have sex on occasion. That's all."
"See, you say that, but we both know how jealous you get when you see guys flirting with me at the bar. Last time you dragged me home over your shoulder like a cave man. And you spend more nights here than you do at your own apartment, for god's sake."
"Charles, I really don't have time to have this argument with you right now, if I'm gonna get to Queens before noon." Erik checks his pockets - keys, phone, wallet - and circles the room one more time, before leaning over the bed and pressing a kiss to Charles's cheek.
"Fine, go. Tell me you love me first, though."
"Of course I love you," Erik says. "You're my best friend."
Charles grabs his neck and pulls him in close for a real kiss. He lets go and smiles up at Erik. "Have fun. Just so you know, though, parents love me. I'm very charming. And I already know her favorite flowers and bakery. Unless - it isn't because you haven't told her you're gay, is it?" The idea has obviously just occurred to Charles, and for the first time in the conversation he looks both surprised and concerned.
Erik rolls his eyes. "I haven't told her, but I'm sure she knows." He answers Charles's next question before it can form. "It's been over a decade since she asked me if I'd met any nice girls."
"Mmm," Charles says, smiling again, "but you've met a very nice boy."
"Have I?" Erik raises an eyebrow. "Remind me why I'm not sleeping with him instead of you."
"Ugh," Charles says, "you're not funny. you know. Get out of here already, I want to watch my taped singing shows without you bitching the whole time." He picks something off the floor and throws something in Erik's general direction, and Erik catches it. Erik unwads the piece of fabric in his hands; it's a t-shirt of his, one that he hasn't seen in at least two weeks. He hadn't even realized Charles had borrowed it.
He sets it into the hamper as he walks past, and then stops at the doorway, looking back at Charles one more time. "Goodbye, Charles."
"Goodbye, darling," Charles says. He scoots a little further down on the bed, and for a second Erik wants nothing more than to take off his own stupid clothes and climb right back onto the mattress next to him, lick his way down the veins of Charles's forearms and bite at the small triangle of skin at his neck where his shirt lies open. The look on Charles's face assures Erik that he's perfectly aware of Erik's train of thought. The idea of lying to his mother might be one of the only things that could actually prevent Erik from yielding to the temptation.
He leaves without another word.
*****
Later, at his parents' place, while they sit around the table drinking coffee, Erik gets a ridiculous text from Charles.
When he looks up from the phone, Mama is watching him with a considering expression on her face. "Who are you talking to?" she says.
"Just my friend Charles," Erik says casually. He slips the phone back into his pocket.
Mama taps her fingers on the table in a careful staccato beat, still gazing at him; Erik feels oddly embarrassed under the force of her scrutiny. "You should invite your friend to brunch some week," Mama says finally. "I'd like to meet a man who makes you smile like that."
Erik can imagine Charles's triumph already. "All right," he says.
Mama smiles at him and cuts him another piece of coffee cake.
by Pearl-o
X-men: First Class, Charles/Erik, PG, 750 words. Modern no powers AU. Inspired by this picture.
Summary: "Why don't you ever invite me to brunch?" Charles says.
*****
"Why don't you ever invite me to brunch?" Charles says. He's sprawled across the unmade bed, dressed in his schlubby weekend clothes, so different from the carefully tailored suits and slacks he wears all during the week. His hair is rumpled, and he hasn't shaved yet since Friday morning. He should look like a hobo, Erik thinks, so it's rather unfair how inviting he looks instead.
"It's brunch with my parents," Erik says. "It's a family thing. You're not family."
"I'm practically family," Charles argues.
Erik shoots him a look as he grabs his jacket from the closet. "Don't be ridiculous."
Charles makes an expression that Erik can only describe as a smirk and folds his arms across his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits. "One of those you're going to have to admit we're in a relationship, you know. We've been together for ages."
"Six months isn't ages-"
"It is for you," Charles interjects serenely.
"-And we're not dating. We're friends who have sex on occasion. That's all."
"See, you say that, but we both know how jealous you get when you see guys flirting with me at the bar. Last time you dragged me home over your shoulder like a cave man. And you spend more nights here than you do at your own apartment, for god's sake."
"Charles, I really don't have time to have this argument with you right now, if I'm gonna get to Queens before noon." Erik checks his pockets - keys, phone, wallet - and circles the room one more time, before leaning over the bed and pressing a kiss to Charles's cheek.
"Fine, go. Tell me you love me first, though."
"Of course I love you," Erik says. "You're my best friend."
Charles grabs his neck and pulls him in close for a real kiss. He lets go and smiles up at Erik. "Have fun. Just so you know, though, parents love me. I'm very charming. And I already know her favorite flowers and bakery. Unless - it isn't because you haven't told her you're gay, is it?" The idea has obviously just occurred to Charles, and for the first time in the conversation he looks both surprised and concerned.
Erik rolls his eyes. "I haven't told her, but I'm sure she knows." He answers Charles's next question before it can form. "It's been over a decade since she asked me if I'd met any nice girls."
"Mmm," Charles says, smiling again, "but you've met a very nice boy."
"Have I?" Erik raises an eyebrow. "Remind me why I'm not sleeping with him instead of you."
"Ugh," Charles says, "you're not funny. you know. Get out of here already, I want to watch my taped singing shows without you bitching the whole time." He picks something off the floor and throws something in Erik's general direction, and Erik catches it. Erik unwads the piece of fabric in his hands; it's a t-shirt of his, one that he hasn't seen in at least two weeks. He hadn't even realized Charles had borrowed it.
He sets it into the hamper as he walks past, and then stops at the doorway, looking back at Charles one more time. "Goodbye, Charles."
"Goodbye, darling," Charles says. He scoots a little further down on the bed, and for a second Erik wants nothing more than to take off his own stupid clothes and climb right back onto the mattress next to him, lick his way down the veins of Charles's forearms and bite at the small triangle of skin at his neck where his shirt lies open. The look on Charles's face assures Erik that he's perfectly aware of Erik's train of thought. The idea of lying to his mother might be one of the only things that could actually prevent Erik from yielding to the temptation.
He leaves without another word.
*****
Later, at his parents' place, while they sit around the table drinking coffee, Erik gets a ridiculous text from Charles.
When he looks up from the phone, Mama is watching him with a considering expression on her face. "Who are you talking to?" she says.
"Just my friend Charles," Erik says casually. He slips the phone back into his pocket.
Mama taps her fingers on the table in a careful staccato beat, still gazing at him; Erik feels oddly embarrassed under the force of her scrutiny. "You should invite your friend to brunch some week," Mama says finally. "I'd like to meet a man who makes you smile like that."
Erik can imagine Charles's triumph already. "All right," he says.
Mama smiles at him and cuts him another piece of coffee cake.
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11/8/12 06:48 (UTC)(no subject)
12/8/12 04:06 (UTC)