Prompt Post: ROUND THREE
ROUND THREE IS CLOSED
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<< ROUND TWO | ALL ROUNDS | ROUND FOUR >>
Rules post.
Flat view.
Updates Post (WIPs only)
Fills Post (completed Fills only)
damalur's firstclasskink on Delicious.
Volunteers always welcome.
There may be some delay on posts appearing when there is a URL in the message body as they are automatically marked as suspicious and I ( Read more... )
From the small chuckle, the old man seems to have at least understood Charles, but he seems hesitant in choosing his words. "Follow me," he says at last, and Charles obediently trots after him, following a small maze that leads out to an unexpectedly bright courtyard that makes Charles momentarily shield his eyes. He is surrounded by loud laughter and conversation, also in German. Funny, he thinks, how they speak like spitting, the words minor projectiles: goooo-ten taaarrgghhh.
The little backyard is filled with men smoking and laughing, some eating. They fall silent as the old man addresses them, and Charles can feel their gazes silently assessing him. He keeps his posture straight, his smile friendly: this is his trademark stance when dealing with an abusive parent, or a complaining member of the public.
After the owner (at least, Charles presumes he is) is done, none of the men step forward to ask for the job, but someone says, "Lehnsherr," and there is a general murmur of agreement. Charles looks around to see who they are referring to, and his eyes widen when he notices a tall man with impossibly broad shoulders turning to face him, taking a last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away.
The man's black polo shirt does little to hide the long, slender tattoos that start at his forearms and disappear under his sleeves, and Charles wonders if gangs in Germany also made tattoos part of the initiation for new members. The man looks rough, dangerous, but years of social work has enabled Charles to read people exceptionally well, and the man called Lehnsherr has hands that look used to hard manual labour. He is now looking steadily at Charles, but he says something in German to the owner. "Was machen wir jetzt?"
"Oh, you don't speak English too," Charles says. "That might be a problem."
"He is only one," the owner insisted. "Lehnsherr, yes?" All this while, the man called Lehnsherr is just staring at Charles a little too curiously, but there is a hint of a smile too, as though there is some private joke that Charles doesn't understand. Maybe there is, because there is something in this man's eyes that makes Charles's nerves sing, maybe with caution, maybe with something else.
"All right then," Charles says, and kicks himself. What is he going to do with a handyman who only speaks German. "Just tell him to come to this address tomorrow, at nine." He hands over the address to the owner, studiously avoiding Lehnsherr's heavy gaze.
Charles pretends to ignore the mocking laughter long after his exit.
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"Who is this guy?" Raven asks, after she has unpacked in her old bedroom and taken out her old collection of stuffed animals. Equally unnerving is the single katana that lies on a stand on her mantle, and Charles idly wonders what else she has learned and experienced during her time in NYC. "How could you just hire him out of some shop?"
"It's not just some shop," Charles says. "And it's really hard to find help now, most of them have already been engaged by the people who own summer homes. And I can't wait, I want to get this place up and running as soon as possible."
"Fair enough," Raven says. "But I reserve the right to point and laugh at you when he destroys the shelves and makes off with half the furniture."
"Your faith in me is overwhelming, little sister." Charles grins wickedly as he tries to grab her for a kiss on the cheek, and she squeals with laughter as she shoves him away.
With Raven back in the house, there now seems to be a bit more life bouncing around the hallways, but Charles cannot wait to fill these rooms with kids who have lived on the streets, or shared such rooms with numerous siblings. The local grocery's van comes trundling up the driveway, and Charles watches as the various cupboards and fridges are filled with healthy food for growing children and, not to be forgotten, junk food for growing teenagers.
The handyman called Lehnsherr arrives at exactly five minutes before nine, and this time he is carrying a massive toolbox and wearing workmen's coveralls. They do nothing to disguise the lean muscle rippling underneath, which is good, Charles decides, as it means this man knows his business. Lehnsherr gives Charles the same blank look when he is introduced to Raven, but the dazzling smile takes Charles by surprise, and makes Raven look away coyly. "He doesn't understand English," Charles explains to Raven. "So don't give the poor chap a hard time."
"Why would I?" She rolls her eyes at him before smiling at Lehnsherr who, bless his German sense of efficiency, goes right to work.
***
Moira calls in the afternoon with the first case. "I thought you might want to take this one," she says, and Charles can hear the triumph in her voice. "Remember Hank McCoy?"
It barely takes Charles a second to recall him. "Oh yes, poor chap, lost both parents in an accident. Isn't he staying with his aunt?"
"Irreconcilable differences," Moira says dryly, and Charles knows this is code for what-the-fuck-do-I-do-with-someone-elses-child syndrome. "Got any room for my boy?"
Charles grins widely. "For you, my pretty little bee, I have five hundred."
***
While Raven and the caretaker, Mrs Rodriguez, go about preparing Hank's room for his arrival, Charles walks around to look for a suitable room to convert into a laboratory. He remembers that in Hank's file, he had seen perfect SAT scores and several achievements in regional science fairs, and he thinks that the boy would feel at home here if there were places he could work and tinker in. Charles arrives at his stepfather's old study and thinks that this might make a good place, and the window has a nice view of the garden.
Charles is about to leave when he notices movement in the garden, and he looks down to see Lehnsherr carrying out planks of rotten plywood that had probably been decaying in the basement, or one of the other rooms. Now Lehnsherr is mopping his forehead, bending down to guzzle water from an open bottle. His arms are golden, gleaming with sweat, and as a result the tattoos look darkened, even more pronounced.
Charles feels something settling in the pit of his stomach, like a coiled cobra, dangerous and waiting to strike, and it is a while before he finally moves away from the window.
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Also, the fact that (as far as is mentioned) Erik doesn't speak English is intriguing. I wonder what his tattoos are. *tattoo fan*
Carry on! c:
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I can't wait for the house to fill up with kids and for Charles and Erik to fall madly in love.
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ERIK HAS TATTOOS! I THOUGHT HE CAN'T GET ANY HOTTER. WOW. I'M SO GLAD TO BE WRONG.
I find it hilarious and hot that Charles, who is so prim and proper (aside from having a heart of gold), is perving on a sweaty Erik as he works in the garden. That scene was such a good remake of a cliche.
PLEASE UPDATE SOON.
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So many possibilities for the childrens backstories, and I'm so curious wether Erik really doesn't know any English or if he's just keeping qiet and how everything is going to develop.
It's interesting and I have considerable amounts of love for this ~ <3
You did fairly well with the German, but, just for future reference: nouns like "Tag" and "Minute" are spelled with capital letters.
Just a very minor, nitpicky thing, since I love my native language and I'm a total spelling/grammar Nazi.
Also, it's always funny how people perceive other languages. So speaking German is like spitting, eh? ;) To me, it feels more like building something, but whatever. And I got a good laugh out of "german sense of efficiency", too.
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five.
Hank arrives two afternoons later, looking considerably nervous and miserable and pained all at once. He is tall, much taller than Charles, probably even taller than Lehnsherr. Despite his height, Hank looks small in his room, as though trying to fold in on himself to hide better. Understanding his grief all too well, Charles helps Moira and Levine to unload the rest of his luggage, letting the boy hang on to his rucksack and a box of prized old books. Later, he thinks, he'll ask Hank about those books to try and get a foot in the door with the boy somehow; it is worth a shot. For now he tells Raven to leave their new occupant alone - her sidelong glances had not escaped his notice - and her indignant pout would have been hilarious if not for Hank's grief.
Hank doesn't join them for dinner, and Charles, after a concerned glance upwards, tells Mrs Rodriguez to leave a plate of food for him in the oven. Raven picks quietly at her food, but a nonchalant Lehnsherr eats solidly, probably blissfully unaware of the drama going on in the house. Not quite the foster family Charles had dreamed of, but he knows they'll get there.
Charles thinks that it would be a good idea to expedite the construction of the lab so that Hank has a distraction. There are a few more boys that Moira is sending over next week, boys whom Charles had once overseen, and Charles is already thinking of converting one of the bigger dens into some kind of rec room. He will definitely need to hire a contractor, but first he wants to ask for Lehnsherr's opinion; hopefully the man will somehow understand what Charles wants in the first place.
In the end, Charles settles for downloading a few photos from a local contractor's website, and he walks with Lehnsherr from room to room with his iPad, pointing out what he wants done, and the man nods, looking thoughtful. Although he may not speak English, he is quick enough to pick up on Charles's nonverbal cues, along with the aid of the pictures.
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Then he hears Lehnsherr's footsteps getting closer, and now the man is looking over Charles's shoulder, head down at the iPad. His breath is warming Charles's neck, and Charles is struggling to get his thought process back on track, trying to ignore the man standing behind him.
"And, um--" Charles clears his throat as Lehnsherr shifts behind him, and he can smell sweat, paint and the faint tang of aftershave. "I'll get a contractor, of course, but I'll just need your help with some of the preliminary shifting." Charles turns slightly, seeing Lehnsherr's brow furrowed in confusion, so he mimes the movement of furniture, and Lehnsherr's frown clears.
"Do you understand?" Charles asks, and Lehnsherr nods. Now the man seems to be smiling that private little smile again, as though he knows the most amusing joke in the world and he isn't going to share it with Charles, not under even pain of death. From this vantage point, so up close, Charles can't help thinking about the Fibonacci sequence and the Golden Ratio. He knows science measures symmetry as beauty, and Charles is fascinated by the ruler-straight lines of Lehnsherr's face - his brows, his eyes, his jaw, that generous mouth. And, of course, the dark ink curling up the lines of Lehnsherr's arms, writ in the language of a world Charles would never be a part of.
Charles looks away first, not quite flushing, but close.
A heartbeat later, Lehnsherr steps away with his hands in his pockets, whistling something under his breath as he strides out of the room, and Charles envies him his nonchalance.
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The following week, the arrival of Alex Summers and Sean Cassidy spell the end of the quiet peacefulness of the manor, and Charles can't stop smiling at the communal sounds of yelling and stomping and running down the corridors. The boys become fast friends, due to shared interests like girls, comics, girls, sports and girls. Sean is not at all shy about his few misdemeanors but they are nothing serious, mostly involving vandalism and shattering windows. In contrast, Alex doesn't mention his colourful juvie background, and Charles doesn't see the need to either.
Alex also doesn't mention the nameless, absent brother making the rounds in other foster homes, but it is obvious that Sean has slipped effortlessly into the role, and with gusto. They're trying to draw Hank out of his shell too, and to Charles's surprise, it is somewhat working. Walking past the half-completed rec room one evening, Charles is gratified to see them crowded around the foosball table which Lehnsherr had managed to locate and bring in, Raven cheering them on and booing Alex whenever he scores.
They look up when he comes in. "Hey Prof, join us for a game?" Sean asks, his grin lazy and a little sleepy. They always call him Prof, despite Charles's insistence that they address him by his first name. He wonders if the nickname came from his previous background, or his fondness for tweed jackets which, according to Raven, were 'lame'.
"I'm good, you lot carry on whooping Alex," he says, to much laughter and an indignant, 'Oh, come on,' from Alex.
"I'm sure I can beat you with one hand tied behind my back," Hank says with a nervous grin as he sends the little plastic ball flying into the opposite goal with a flick of his wrist.
"I'm not so sure, I think Alex does a lot of things better with one hand," Sean cackles, and there is a howl of outraged laughter and disgust. Charles shakes his head with a grin, pleased when he sees Hank chuckling as well.
"Don't forget your chores before dinner," Charles reminds them, and they murmur obediently, eyes still on the game. As he is about to walk out, only then does he notice Lehnsherr, sandpapering a few boards in the corner of the room, an odd little paternal smile on his face as he absently watches the kids.
Then his gaze meets Charles's, and Lehnsherr gives him a nod, still smiling as he goes back to work.
***
Charles is walking around and checking the doors; the kids are in bed, the staff have gone home for the day and it is finally quiet in the manor. The silence means he doesn't miss the crunch of gravel outside, and he peeks out into the driveway to see Lehnsherr standing there, smoking and looking up at the sky.
Charles steps out, feeling the bite of the evening wind as he is only in his striped pajamas. "Your ride isn't here yet?" he asks, mimicking the action of someone driving.
Lehnsherr shakes his head, then points at his watch with a frown. He must have missed his ride.
"You're welcome to stay the night." Charles points towards the inside of the house. "We have a lot of rooms."
Thankfully Lehnsherr seems to understand, as he stands there contemplating Charles's offer, and finally he shrugs, putting out his cigarette and following him inside.
Charles leads him to the room opposite his. "The bed should be made," he says, not really caring anymore that Lehnsherr might not understand him. A group of teenage boys are a lot more tiring in one large dose instead of three. As a result, his next words are more careless and flippant than anything else. "If not, feel free to crawl into mine."
As Charles pads away to his own room, he wonders if he had imagined Lehnsherr's quiet snort of amusement.
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ANON, PLEASE UPDATE SOON. I CANNOT CONTAIN MY GLEE! THIS IS SO BRILLIANT AND SEXY! THE UST IS KILLING ME!
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