Prompt Post: ROUND FIVE
ROUND FIVE IS CLOSED
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<< ROUND FOUR | ALL ROUNDS | ROUND SIX >>
Rules post.
Posting Guidelines.
Flat view.
Updates Post (WIPs only)
Fills Post (completed Fills only)
damalur's firstclasskink on Delicious.
Volunteers always welcome.
There is a delay on comments appearing when there is a URL in the message body. This is due to an LJ anti-spam ( Read more... )
It had been noon by the time they arrived at the old book store in Seattle. The trip there had taken them somewhere between six and ten hours (Charles said six, but Erik insisted on factoring Charles’s annoying - though slightly endearing - early morning sight-seeing tendencies into the equation), and already they could feel the weight of the day bearing down on them. It had been dingy outside - muggy and dark - and though it was anything but warm in the Northwestern not-so-sun, the humidity was enough to cover them both with a thin layer of sweat and condensation.
Inside had been no better.
As dingy at it had been outside, it had been worse within the confines of the store. It was small, crowded, and the man (Charles had been certain that it was a man) in charge of running the place had refused to install any proper lighting fixtures. Everything was lit by floor lamp, and quite a few times the two mutants had taken turns running into each other as their eyes adjusted to the dim atmosphere. But after a few minutes of fumbling around in the dark, they had finally meandered their way to the back of the store, and thankfully the both of them easily spotted the boy they needed to talk to before either of them had to run into another bookcase, ‘lamp,’ or wall.
“Excuse me...” Charles had tentatively tapped the boy’s shoulder as he spoke, carefully choosing his words. He had always been the one to talk first on these things. Erik didn’t much like the idea of recruiting youth to begin with -
“Are you here to buy something?” - partly because the youth always seemed to be obnoxious little twats. This kid sounded enraged and they hadn’t even gotten a sentence in.
“Well, no. We...”
“Fuck off.”
Charles winced and recoiled at the young mutant’s wrath, and almost immediately Erik felt defensive. How dare he say something like that? How dare he take that tone with them? They were his elders, his superiors. They -
“I think I’d quite like some lunch.” When Erik looked down to meet the telepath’s words, he could see that he was smiling. Optimism. But there had still been defeat in his voice - pain - so Erik nodded in consent and let Charles lead them out of the building.
When the reemerged from the store, it had started to rain, but Charles didn’t seem to notice as he lead them to their destination. They passed one, two, three, seven separate eateries before they got to where he wanted, and by the time the two of them entered the doors to the quiet restaurant they were both sopping wet. Once again, Charles didn’t seem to notice, and when Erik started to bring it up he simply smiled and laughed as he gave his apologies.
It was obvious that his friend was still upset over such a harsh rejection.
But at this point Erik knew better than to pester him about it.
They had gone back and forth from the book store to various eateries five times before Charles had finally accepted the rejection as unchanging.
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It was nearing eleven at night as they approached the bus station. Both of them were exhausted. Erik was grumpy. Charles was doing the best to mask the pain that accompanied both his failure and the anger he still felt in the child’s voice. And their bus didn’t arrive until 1.30.
Thankfully, they had at least (mostly) dried off from the day’s adventures by the time they took their seats on the empty metal bench.
Despite the late hour, there were enough people in the station to make it lively, and Charles was pressing the palms of his hands to his forehead with intensity in an attempt to drown out the noise of their thoughts. For a moment, Erik pitied him, even wanted to help, but he had his own problems to deal with, and Charles was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. So instead of expressing concern for his friend, Erik leaned back on the bench and glanced up to the ceiling, contouring the metal of his seat to make it more comfortable.
Charles was still rubbing his forehead. When he thought he wouldn’t notice, Erik did the same courtesy for him.
“Thank you.” Was it possible to hide anything from this man?
“I didn’t do anything.”
In response, Charles chuckled quietly. Erik could only imagine what he thought of him.
“I don’t think poorly of you, either, Erik.” The professor smiled and looked up at his taller friend. His eyes were sleepier than Erik remembered, and for a moment he feared for his consciousness. But Charles pressed on, seemingly unaffected by the sleep that was threatening to take him. “I just find it amusing that you still think you can lie to me.” The smile that had been playing across his face turned into a grin as Charles looked down at the floor, clearly amused. “You project your thoughts too -“ He yawned. “I’m sorry - too loudly for me to not pay attention.”
Erik smiled and nodded his understanding before looking away and counting the number of cracks in the floor.
He would be glad when they were rid of this place. It was bad for him. It was bad for Charles. It was -
Suddenly, Erik felt a weight on his shoulder.
Upon further examination of this weight, he found that it was Charles. Asleep. From the looks of it, he had been leaning on the back of the bench and had accidentally fallen over him.
Erik placed his arms on his friend’s shoulders and tried to stand him up. But that didn’t work, and soon the sleeping Charles was once again resting his head against his friend’s shoulder.
He wanted to be angry that he had fallen asleep on him. He wanted to hit him to wake him up, or at the very least shove him in the opposite direction. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Awake, Charles had been in pain - he felt guilty, and he looked horribly distressed despite his optimistic tone. Asleep, he took on a completely different persona. He was relaxed now, comfortable. The pained expression was gone, and in its place was a look of complete bliss. He was happy like that.
Erik couldn’t take that away from him.
So slowly, carefully, the more conscious of the two wrapped his arm around the other, shifting to let him rest further against his shoulder. With a little more adjustment, Charles’s forehead was resting in the crook of Erik’s neck, and soon Erik could feel his slow, repetitive breaths on his collarbone.
Usually he would shy away from the sensation, but at this moment he welcomed it. It was comforting, knowing he was actually doing some good for the person he cared about, and as long as Charles never found out, no harm would be done. Erik could still be respectable and Charles could still get his sleep.
Without further contemplation about their situation, Erik buried his face in Charles’s hair, taking in the familiar aroma that he had grown so accustomed to over their long expedition. It was a comforting smell, and for the moment he let himself get lost in it.
A woman glared at them.
Erik crinkled a stray piece of aluminum foil into a ball before throwing it in her direction.
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However, I adore both of these fills. I must say that I find your fill particularly endearing simply for the last few paragraphs. I love how we can tell that Erik's irritation is due to his affection for Charles, but that it isn't fully stated until the very end. It's lovely. :)
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Poor sleepy, disappointed Charles. I absolutely love how Erik takes care of him, thinking Charles would never be the wiser. And the tin-foil ball at the end was so perfect. XD
*loves*
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Ha! I'm glad you liked that. I didn't know how to end it so I was pretty much just like "This works." xD
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