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schmericaMy Open and Shut
by Pearl-o
X-men: First Class, Charles/Erik, R. ~1300 words. This takes place in the same universe as My Push and My Shove, although you probably don't need to have read that. Canon AU where Erik doesn't leave after the beach.
Thanks as always to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pocky_slash for her help.
Summary: They might not manage to have sex tonight, but they're just as good at arguing as they ever were.
*****
It was obvious to Charles from almost the start that it wasn't going to be any use, but he kept going for a little longer, anyway, in case he might be mistaken. Finally, though, he had to give it up.
"This isn't working," Charles said.
Erik's attention had been concentrated quite intently on Charles's nipples for the last several minutes, and his ministrations didn't falter even at Charles's words. If anything, they intensified.
"Erik," Charles said, louder this time. "Get off me." He pushed at Erik lightly with his arms and a little more firmly with his mind. A little too firmly, perhaps; Erik rolled off of him immediately, gasping, one hand going up to the side of his head as he frowned at Charles.
"Was that really necessary?" Erik said.
"Sorry," Charles replied, although he wasn't, particularly.
Erik sighed, rising up on his knees, stretching his arms behind his back. His naked body was still every bit as perfect as the first time Charles had seen it, all those months ago, all lean muscle and long rangy limbs. Charles could remember when just the sight of a single patch of Erik's skin - the inside of his wrist, the nape of his neck - was enough to harden his cock instantly: desire like a slap to the face, as sudden and unavoidable as that. As easy as that. It was odd to remember now, in a way; intellectually, he still understood it completely, but that body wasn't the same as the one he had now, and thinking back it seemed almost foreign, not a part of him at all.
"What else should I do?" Erik said. His hands were splayed wide on his thighs, waiting for Charles's instructions or suggestions, how to do this, how to solve the puzzle that was Charles's changed body. It made Charles tired just to watch him.
"Nothing. Just forget the whole thing," Charles said sourly. He pushed himself up to plump his pillows and then lay back down, pulling the covers up as far as he could reach. He closed his eyes. "Turn off the lamp, will you?"
There was a pause. He could feel the whirl and click of Erik's thoughts next to him, loud as a machine. "Charles," Erik said. "Are you sure- we could just kiss, if you want? It doesn't have to... Or I could just hold you. Just tell me what you need."
Charles opened his eyes, turning again to look over at Erik. He was still kneeling in the same position atop the bedspread. There was a thick furrow in the middle of his brow. Charles felt his own mood soften, just a tad. "If you want," Charles offered, nodding towards Erik's cock, "I can take care of you." He sent the image directly to Erik, of the illusory version of himself he could provide to fuck Erik. He had never used his powers that way before, but he'd seen Emma Frost do it in Russia last year, and it wasn't difficult to imagine the specifics required. And God knew well enough that Charles couldn't do that position anymore.
Erik's posture stiffened immediately, and he shot Charles a dark glare. "How dare you," Erik said, voice low, and he turned his back to Charles as he climbed off the bed. Charles watched, feeling some confusion, as Erik went to the dresser, pulling out a pair of sweatpants that he began to tug on.
"What are you doing?"
"I thought maybe I should sleep in my old room," Erik said, not looking over. "Since you obviously don't want me here."
It was hard to avoid rolling his eyes. "I didn't say that."
"Fine. I don't need this, Charles, I'm here because - you know why I'm here - and I'm trying, and your response to offer me humiliation-"
"You, humiliated?" Charles interjected, with not a little bitterness.
"-Yes, humiliated," Erik snapped. "It's humiliating that you would suggest that. That you would think of me as some pathetic lecher to appease. It's disgusting. I'm not the one who-" He cut himself off.
Charles said quietly, "The one who what?"
Erik turned around, leaning back against the dresser, and folded his arms across his chest. "I don't care about sex. We both know that. This is for you."
Charles could feel his mouth hanging open. He forced himself not to speak right away, because everything that came to his mind was cutting and cruel. He could feel Erik's mind, and behind his irritation and hurt Erik seemed completely sincere; he believed what he was saying, however ridiculous it might be.
"Well," Charles said after a minute. "I suppose I owe you an apology, then. I had no idea I was such a burden on you all this time. You certainly fooled me into thinking you were enjoying yourself."
If anything, Erik's frown deepened. "That's not what I meant."
"What did you mean, then?"
"I've lived without sex before. I was fine," Erik said. "You haven't. You need people, and touch, and pleasure, all those things, like a flower needs sunlight." His thoughts were a mess, jumbled together on the uppermost surface of his mind, but Charles could still untangle and read some of them. Erik liked being Charles's sun, liked that it was something of himself he could give Charles despite all his faults and damage, despite all the things he kept away.
There was a memory near the top of Erik's thoughts that Charles recognized - not their first time, but within the first few weeks of their relationship when they were still crisscrossing the country following up Cerebro coordinates. In bed together at some hickish motel, Charles holding Erik to himself tightly, so tightly, and whispering into his ear and his mind together, No one's ever touched me the way you do. No one's ever made me feel the way you do.
Erik held that memory rather dear, it seemed.
Quietly, Charles said, "I don't love you because of your ability to bring me to orgasm." He didn't add you idiot onto the end, but he thought it might be implied.
Erik gazed back at him. His face might as well have been carved in stone, Charles thought sometimes. His eyes looked dark and emotionless. It was amazing how good Erik was at shutting out the world. Nobody knew all the things he held inside, vast and complicated and feeling so much. Nobody but Charles.
Charles continued, "It's the middle of the night. We can't have you wandering the halls like that. You'll wake up the children." He patted the covers beside him. "Come back to bed."
Erik hesitated, but only briefly - long enough to prove to both Charles and himself that he was doing so because he wanted to, of his own desire, and not only because Charles asked. Even once between the sheets, he held himself away, leaving a fair amount of distance between the two of them until Charles reached out and tugged him closer. At that point, he gave in, curling in around Charles in their familiar position, pulling Charles's back snug against his front.
If you still want to, Charles thought, you could touch yourself. He could feel a brief flash of uncertainty from Erik, and he added, Of course, you don't have to. This is fine.
What about you? Erik sent to him.
I feel what you feel, remember? I'll just tag along.
Erik pressed a kiss to Charles's shoulder. For a moment, Charles could feel and hear the rustle of the bedsheets and the movement behind him of Erik's body as he arranged himself and his clothes, and then Charles shivered at the first soft tendrils of Erik's pleasure began to fill his mind.
"Go slowly," he said out loud. He reached his hand backwards, until it rested on the cool skin of Erik's hip, and clutched there tightly as if to hold him still. "I want you to enjoy yourself," Charles said, and Erik's ragged uncertain breath was almost as good as the reflected glow of pleasure from his perfect cock, almost as good as the sweet warmth filling Charles's chest.
by Pearl-o
X-men: First Class, Charles/Erik, R. ~1300 words. This takes place in the same universe as My Push and My Shove, although you probably don't need to have read that. Canon AU where Erik doesn't leave after the beach.
Thanks as always to
pocky_slash for her help.Summary: They might not manage to have sex tonight, but they're just as good at arguing as they ever were.
*****
It was obvious to Charles from almost the start that it wasn't going to be any use, but he kept going for a little longer, anyway, in case he might be mistaken. Finally, though, he had to give it up.
"This isn't working," Charles said.
Erik's attention had been concentrated quite intently on Charles's nipples for the last several minutes, and his ministrations didn't falter even at Charles's words. If anything, they intensified.
"Erik," Charles said, louder this time. "Get off me." He pushed at Erik lightly with his arms and a little more firmly with his mind. A little too firmly, perhaps; Erik rolled off of him immediately, gasping, one hand going up to the side of his head as he frowned at Charles.
"Was that really necessary?" Erik said.
"Sorry," Charles replied, although he wasn't, particularly.
Erik sighed, rising up on his knees, stretching his arms behind his back. His naked body was still every bit as perfect as the first time Charles had seen it, all those months ago, all lean muscle and long rangy limbs. Charles could remember when just the sight of a single patch of Erik's skin - the inside of his wrist, the nape of his neck - was enough to harden his cock instantly: desire like a slap to the face, as sudden and unavoidable as that. As easy as that. It was odd to remember now, in a way; intellectually, he still understood it completely, but that body wasn't the same as the one he had now, and thinking back it seemed almost foreign, not a part of him at all.
"What else should I do?" Erik said. His hands were splayed wide on his thighs, waiting for Charles's instructions or suggestions, how to do this, how to solve the puzzle that was Charles's changed body. It made Charles tired just to watch him.
"Nothing. Just forget the whole thing," Charles said sourly. He pushed himself up to plump his pillows and then lay back down, pulling the covers up as far as he could reach. He closed his eyes. "Turn off the lamp, will you?"
There was a pause. He could feel the whirl and click of Erik's thoughts next to him, loud as a machine. "Charles," Erik said. "Are you sure- we could just kiss, if you want? It doesn't have to... Or I could just hold you. Just tell me what you need."
Charles opened his eyes, turning again to look over at Erik. He was still kneeling in the same position atop the bedspread. There was a thick furrow in the middle of his brow. Charles felt his own mood soften, just a tad. "If you want," Charles offered, nodding towards Erik's cock, "I can take care of you." He sent the image directly to Erik, of the illusory version of himself he could provide to fuck Erik. He had never used his powers that way before, but he'd seen Emma Frost do it in Russia last year, and it wasn't difficult to imagine the specifics required. And God knew well enough that Charles couldn't do that position anymore.
Erik's posture stiffened immediately, and he shot Charles a dark glare. "How dare you," Erik said, voice low, and he turned his back to Charles as he climbed off the bed. Charles watched, feeling some confusion, as Erik went to the dresser, pulling out a pair of sweatpants that he began to tug on.
"What are you doing?"
"I thought maybe I should sleep in my old room," Erik said, not looking over. "Since you obviously don't want me here."
It was hard to avoid rolling his eyes. "I didn't say that."
"Fine. I don't need this, Charles, I'm here because - you know why I'm here - and I'm trying, and your response to offer me humiliation-"
"You, humiliated?" Charles interjected, with not a little bitterness.
"-Yes, humiliated," Erik snapped. "It's humiliating that you would suggest that. That you would think of me as some pathetic lecher to appease. It's disgusting. I'm not the one who-" He cut himself off.
Charles said quietly, "The one who what?"
Erik turned around, leaning back against the dresser, and folded his arms across his chest. "I don't care about sex. We both know that. This is for you."
Charles could feel his mouth hanging open. He forced himself not to speak right away, because everything that came to his mind was cutting and cruel. He could feel Erik's mind, and behind his irritation and hurt Erik seemed completely sincere; he believed what he was saying, however ridiculous it might be.
"Well," Charles said after a minute. "I suppose I owe you an apology, then. I had no idea I was such a burden on you all this time. You certainly fooled me into thinking you were enjoying yourself."
If anything, Erik's frown deepened. "That's not what I meant."
"What did you mean, then?"
"I've lived without sex before. I was fine," Erik said. "You haven't. You need people, and touch, and pleasure, all those things, like a flower needs sunlight." His thoughts were a mess, jumbled together on the uppermost surface of his mind, but Charles could still untangle and read some of them. Erik liked being Charles's sun, liked that it was something of himself he could give Charles despite all his faults and damage, despite all the things he kept away.
There was a memory near the top of Erik's thoughts that Charles recognized - not their first time, but within the first few weeks of their relationship when they were still crisscrossing the country following up Cerebro coordinates. In bed together at some hickish motel, Charles holding Erik to himself tightly, so tightly, and whispering into his ear and his mind together, No one's ever touched me the way you do. No one's ever made me feel the way you do.
Erik held that memory rather dear, it seemed.
Quietly, Charles said, "I don't love you because of your ability to bring me to orgasm." He didn't add you idiot onto the end, but he thought it might be implied.
Erik gazed back at him. His face might as well have been carved in stone, Charles thought sometimes. His eyes looked dark and emotionless. It was amazing how good Erik was at shutting out the world. Nobody knew all the things he held inside, vast and complicated and feeling so much. Nobody but Charles.
Charles continued, "It's the middle of the night. We can't have you wandering the halls like that. You'll wake up the children." He patted the covers beside him. "Come back to bed."
Erik hesitated, but only briefly - long enough to prove to both Charles and himself that he was doing so because he wanted to, of his own desire, and not only because Charles asked. Even once between the sheets, he held himself away, leaving a fair amount of distance between the two of them until Charles reached out and tugged him closer. At that point, he gave in, curling in around Charles in their familiar position, pulling Charles's back snug against his front.
If you still want to, Charles thought, you could touch yourself. He could feel a brief flash of uncertainty from Erik, and he added, Of course, you don't have to. This is fine.
What about you? Erik sent to him.
I feel what you feel, remember? I'll just tag along.
Erik pressed a kiss to Charles's shoulder. For a moment, Charles could feel and hear the rustle of the bedsheets and the movement behind him of Erik's body as he arranged himself and his clothes, and then Charles shivered at the first soft tendrils of Erik's pleasure began to fill his mind.
"Go slowly," he said out loud. He reached his hand backwards, until it rested on the cool skin of Erik's hip, and clutched there tightly as if to hold him still. "I want you to enjoy yourself," Charles said, and Erik's ragged uncertain breath was almost as good as the reflected glow of pleasure from his perfect cock, almost as good as the sweet warmth filling Charles's chest.
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