Fic: The third who walks always beside you 12/18
Title The third who walks always beside you 12/18
Fandom X-Men First Class
Pairings Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier/Gabrielle Haller, in all possible combinations.
World count of chapter 6031
Word count of entire fic 94 000
Rating/warnings NC-17. Sexual situations, mental illness, professional misconduct, period homophobia, ableism and racism as well as casual misogyny, discussion of genocide and sexual abuse.
Disclaimer Marvels owns it, not I.
Summary After a chance meeting, the recently reunited mutant school-master and leader of the Brotherhood both become fascinated by Gabrielle Haller, a human who has demons of her own to fight. As Erik finds himself pulled between his mutant identity and his human heritage, Charles wrestles with his own ethical code and his attraction to his friend. The innocent distraction between the three of them rapidly grows more complicated and, ultimately, altogether more sinister.
Author’s notes This chapter’s unbetaed, so if you see anything that looks odd, it’s all my fault.
Tuesday was spent in art-galleries. When Charles and Erik had done the Guggenheim, they decided to continue, and at the end of the day it felt as if there was not a painting in New York they had not seen, even if Charles knew they had just scratched the surface. Most of the time they had spent in companionable silence. When there had been an opinion Charles had wanted to communicate to him, he had reached out and touched his friend’s mind to tell him. Erik did not object, but instead seemed pleased by it. It was an intimate gesture Charles had not dared a few weeks ago.
The next day, Erik left the hotel early, and as Gaby had not stayed over, Charles had the day to himself. The past few years, he had grown used to solitude, but now he felt unaccustomed in the psychic silence. It was like trying on an old pair of favourite shoes and finding that they no longer fit the way one remembered. He attempted to read, but his mind wandered. It struck hm suddenly how seldom he thought about the school. It was as if he had all but forgotten Hank with his excited research projects, Sean and his endearing failures in the kitchen, Alex and his sparring and training. He even felt like he had forgotten about the children. He missed them, but his longing was muted, badly tuned. It was a different world, and in New York, which was part of the human world, it was difficult to imagine that the mutant school was real.
Would it be able to reconcile the two worlds? Before Charles had imagined that when he went back, it would mean cutting all connections to this little reality he and Erik and Gaby formed, but now, he allowed himself to play with the idea that it might not end with that. What if he could convince Erik to come with him, and merge their forces into one? What if he could bring Gaby with him? He imagined presenting her to his surprised students. This is Gabrielle Haller, my...
He paused in his fantasy, realising the word he had almost thought. Without warning, his imagination had jumped to the prospect of engagement. Charles did not think he had thought of it before this daydream where he called Gaby his fiancée, and it had never been mentioned. Of course it had not - they had known each other a matter of months, far too short time to think of such things yet. Time was not the only issue. Charles remembered Gaby’s objection, it’s not a problem, but he felt that she could not truly know. What woman would marry a cripple if she had some other alternative? Even if she said she was in love with him, even if she spent time with him, he was reluctant to accept that her words were the whole truth. Besides, in the eyes of Gaby’s aunt, he would certainly not be an ideal candidate, by virtue of his religion as well as his handicap. And people might object, not only on Gaby’s side...
Now he saw the scene he had imagined change, as the mutants stared and, turning to each other, whispered: human, human, human. He wanted to think that they would accept her, but he was not certain. He was not even certain if just bringing a human to the mansion was right. How would they react if he married one?
It felt absurd that he had let his daydreams go this far. The thought scared him, but it was evidently something he wanted on some level, considering that he had thought of it in the first place. All the same, if that was the case, it would have to stay as fantasies.
These thoughts had occupied Charles for most of the day, and towards the evening, the prospect of meeting Erik and Gaby for dinner felt welcome. Seeing them in the flesh should clear his head from this persistent chimera. It was less than half an hour before they were to meet when the phone rang. Putting the book, which he had been holding but not reading, aside, he crossed to answer.
‘Xavier.’ On the other end of the line, he could hear the murmur of voices, and then, Gaby’s hurried half-whisper:
‘Charles, it’s me. I’m so sorry, there’s a meeting - they need me to take the minutes for it...’
‘Oh,’ Charles said, a little surprised. ‘Will you be late...?’
‘I think I’ll be here all evening,’ she answered and sighed. ‘I’m sorry...’
‘Don’t be, my dear,’ Charles said. ‘We’ll miss you, of course, but don’t feel bad about it.’
‘They said I could have the morning off tomorrow,’ Gaby said, sounding a litlte happier. ‘I won’t have to come in until eleven.’
‘I’ll give you a call tomorrow, then.’
‘Wonderful. Give Erik my love.’
‘Naturally,’ Charles said. ‘Take care.’ With a final, ‘you too,’ Gaby rang off. Charles put the receiver down, trying to rid himself of the mild disappointment he was feeling. He would see her in the morning, and perhaps an evening in Erik’s company would clear his mind equally.
When Charles entered the hotel restaurant a little while later, it was obvious that Erik felt Gaby’s absence keenly. When he saw him, he stood up and gave him an inquiring look.
‘Gaby isn’t here yet,’ he said.
‘She’s not coming,’ Charles said and made an apologetic face. ‘She called - they’re keeping her at the office. Apparently they wanted her to take the minutes for some meeting.’ Erik sighed. ‘It can’t be helped,’ Charles added and shook out his napkin.
‘Of course not,’ Erik said with a shrug. ‘She has a decent job, which is more than we have.’ Charles looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.
‘Perhaps you should consider becoming a teacher,’ he suggested. He had not known how Erik would react to that, even when said as a joke, but his solemn face split into a sharkish grin.
‘You can try to persuade me all you want, Charles,’ he said. ‘You know it’s not going to work.’
‘I think you’d be a splendid teacher,’ Charles said and stopped to think. ‘Well, after a bit of training.’
‘You seem to have this idea that I am uncultured,’ Erik said teasingly. ‘It is the lack of a family fortune or of education which gives you that idea?’
‘I suspect it’s down to the terrorism, really,’ Charles answered, mock-serious. As Erik grinned at him, he reflected how odd it was that they could joke about such things. He supposed that it was their way of keeping their conflict at bay.
They ordered wine, and did not speak until it arrived. When they first met again, silence had been something Charles had feared, and it had always felt very awkward. Now, it felt comfortable. When Erik caught his eye as the waiter poured their wine, he returned the gaze and smiled. Leaving the bottle behind, the waiter disappeared. They tasted the wine together.
‘Not bad,’ Charles said. Erik nodded, holding the glass up to the light, but he was not really looking at it. It was only a gesture which stalled for time. He put the glass down and said:
‘I’ve decided to go to the synagogue with Gaby.’ He did not look at Charles when he said it, and it sounded rushed, as if he needed to say it before he changed his mind.
‘That’s wonderful,’ Charles said and smiled.
‘I hope so,’ Erik said, his face unreadable. ‘I haven’t worshipped for so long. My family was devout, so I have always thought that it would be a painful reminder, but... if she can do it, why can’t I?’
‘It’ll probably do you good. Religion can work as a healing force.’ Erik shrugged, obviously not knowing what to say. Charles watched him for a while, and then asked: ‘For whose sake are you going?’ Erik looked at him and frowned.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Are you going for God’s sake, or for Gaby’s sake?’ Charles clarified. Erik thought about it.
‘I suppose I’ll find out once I get there,’ he said finally.
‘Whatever the reason, I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ Charles said and casually touched his arm. By the look on Erik’s face, it surprised him. It surprised Charles himself. He had not planned to do it, but it had come naturally. He smiled apologetically and drew away, busying himself with the menu. He was aware of Erik watching him, but he did not press him. Now the silence was more charged, and Charles knew that he only had himself to blame.
This time, it was Erik who spoke first.
‘Charles, can I ask something?’
Charles’ stomach flipped, but he made himself sound unaffected.
‘Of course.’ When Erik did not ask immediately, he turned to him, and saw how he had leaned closer, watching him. His gaze prompted Erik to speak.
‘Does Gaby prefer one of us over the other?’ Charles gave him an incredulous stare.
‘Erik, how can you ask such a thing?’
‘Because I suppose you know it,’ Erik said calmly.
‘I would never...’ At that, he snorted.
‘You must have read her mind, Charles,’ he said. ‘You must have been curious.’
‘Curiosity isn’t an excuse for unethical use of such a power,’ Charles said sharply. Erik smirked.
‘Is that what you tell your children?’ he asked, leaning a little closer. His voice had become an intense whisper, and his tone sounded almost seductive. ‘Is that what you tell your X-Men? Do you lie to make them feel safe - do you think they would not trust you if they knew that you could kill them with a thought? Aren’t you ever tempted to seize the world and shape it? You could have your mutant-human peace. All you’d have to do would be to think. You can do what others only dream of.’
Charles looked at him, tightlipped.
‘If you have thought of that, you should have realised why I am careful with using my powers,’ he answered finally. Erik shifted closer still.
‘How come other rules apply to you?’ he asked. ‘You tell others to embrace their powers, to rejoice in them, while you keep yours locked away. I don’t see why you are so reluctant.’ Charles let out a breath slowly.
‘This is why we fight on different sides, my friend.’ Erik leaned back in his chair. The sadness Charles felt seemed not to be shared by him.
‘Have you really never been tempted?’ he pressed. Charles shook his head.
‘If I so much as think about it, I would forfeit the right to use those powers.’ He wished that it was that easy, but Erik was right. Of course he had thought about it, and only over the last few weeks, he had started bending his rules by eavesdropping on Erik and Gaby. He had to make sure that that was as far as the abuse of his powers went. Taking away Moira’s memories had at least served a purpose. This was at best curiosity, at worst jealousy.
Erik snorted at his reply, as if he knew. Then he reminded him:
‘We were talking about Gaby.’ Charles threw him an annoyed look.
‘Things might have... bled through,’ he said. Consciously or not, Erik had effectively tricked him into answering. ‘It’s not really as simple as preferring one or the other. She values different things about us.’ Erik made a gesture to make him continue. Charles braided his fingers together and spoke. ‘She feels an affinity to you. There is something familiar about you, with the fact that you’re both Jewish, and I suppose, also a comfort in... well, shared experiences. But she finds there’s a sense of adventure about you that she cherishes. She’s intrigued by the things she does not know. She imagines that the life you have lived is fuller than her own.’
‘And what about you?’ Erik asked. ‘What does she value in you?’ That was harder to speak of. It felt strange to explain something that pertained to oneself like that.
‘Well... I make her feel safe. She thinks of me as her first friend for a very long time. She enjoys our conversations. Where you finds you exciting, she finds me tender. She feels that I know her properly, which I suppose I do, even if she does not know why, of course.’ He went silent. Erik raised his eyebrows.
‘And...?’
‘And nothing,’ Charles answered. Erik grinned.
‘You’re leaving something out,’ he said. Charles sighed, both impressed and annoyed with his friend’s astuteness.
‘It’s the wheelchair,’ he explained.
‘She pities you, you mean?’ he asked, but Charles shook his head.
‘No, it’s not pity. It’s fascination. I can’t quite explain it...’ He gathered his thoughts, and then said: ‘It makes her feel strong. She feels that perhaps she’s not so broken after all.’ Erik watched him, an strange look in his eye.
‘How ironic,’ he finally said, ‘that you would be the most broken of the three of us.’ Charles looked away, uncomfortable with the subject. He wanted to say, that’s not the way it works, but he did not want to start discussing that. It would either provoke or upset Erik, and he wanted neither of those things. Also, he realised that he did not want to talk more about Gaby. After a day of considering ways things could go wrong between them, he wanted some respite.
‘Let’s talk about something else,’ he said, and Erik smiled knowingly. It looked almost like it pleased him that he had disturbed him.
‘Tell me about your school.’ Charles straightened up, startled. Even if Erik’s face barely changed, he could see the disappointment in his eyes. ‘I’m not asking because of any ulterior motive,’ he said. ‘I’d simply like to learn what you have done when we’ve been apart.’
‘I-I’m sorry,’ Charles stammered. ‘I didn’t mean...’ Erik cut him off.
‘You thought that I was asking because I wanted to use it in some plan,’ he said, his disappointment evident now. ‘You do not trust me.’
‘I do,’ Charles said earnestly. ‘It’s just... those children are under my protection. If anything happened to them...’ Erik turned his eyes on him fiercely.
‘They’re mutant children,’ Erik reminded him. ‘They are the ones I am fighting for.’ Charles nodded, but looked away, ashamed by his lapse of faith. He felt Erik draw his fingers over his hand briefly. When he looked up, his gaze was sincere. ‘Let me know who I am fighting for,’ he said. Charles swallowed. The idea that Erik protected them as much as he did touched him deeply.
‘There are six students now,’ he said quietly. Even if the restaurant was not busy, he was careful that no-one should hear them. ‘There’s Scott, who’s Alex’s little brother.’ Erik raised an impressed eyebrow. ‘His power is quite... destructive.’
‘That runs in the family,’ Erik chuckled. Charles smiled too, realising how anxious he was for Erik’s approval. ‘What can he do?’
‘We call it an optic blast,’ Charles explained. ‘He emits powerful energy beams from his eyes. I designed a visor to keep it under control - before that, he would destroy anything he looked at.’
‘He can’t control it?’ Erik asked, frowning in compassion. Charles shook his head morosely.
‘No. He suffered head trauma in the plane crash that killed his parents - I think it might be connected to that.’ He paused and continued his description. ‘Then there’s Jean. She’s psychic, but her primary power is telekinesis. She’s a very clever girl, and quite talented with her powers too.’
‘Teacher’s pet?’ Erik said and raised an eyebrow. Charles laughed.
‘Perhaps a little,’ he admitted. ‘If you met her, you’d understand - she’s lovely. She and Scott are the eldest. Rahne’s youngest - she’s only nine. The most apt way of describing her, I suppose, is a werewolf. Well, without the business with the moon phases. She can transform into a wolf.’
‘Impressive.’
‘She’s a very shy girl - she had a quite strict upbringing back in Scotland, but she’s making friends,’ Charles said. ‘She and the twins are very close.’
‘Mutant twins?’ Erik said, looking intrigued. ‘Identical?’ Charles shook his head.
‘No - a boy and a girl. Wanda and Pietro. Pietro is able to move incredibly fast, much faster than any ordinary human. Wanda can affect probabilities. Essentially, she can change, well, reality. She’s still insisting to say that it’s really magic, so she and Rahne bond over considering themselves supernaturals.’
‘The werewolf and the witch?’
‘Exactly,’ Charles said, smiling at the thought of the children. ‘They’re not that much older than Rahne, and they’ve had a harder time adjusting. We found them in a Romanian orphanage. I dread to think what might have happened to them if they had stayed there. They picked up English in a matter of weeks, though. Absolutely remarkable - they sound native now. Ororo’s the same.’
‘I suppose she’s the sixth pupil,’ Erik said, and Charles nodded. ‘Where did you find her?’
‘In Cairo. She can control the weather. When there was a snow-storm in mid-June there, it was quite easy to realise that something was happening.’ Erik smiled with him. Charles was not used to seeing such warmth in his eyes.
‘You sound very fond of them all,’ Erik said finally.
‘I am,’ Charles said. ‘It’s hard not to be.’ He had come to think of his students as his own children, especially as he would probably not have any of his own. The possiblity of that had certainly grown in the past weeks. That thought sent a brief jab of panic through him. He had not considered that before. Even if they had taken precautions, there was always a risk involved. It would be more probable that Erik would have a child by her, but it was in no way impossible that Charles might. He shook himself mentally to dismiss the thought. It was purely hypothetical, after all - there was no need to get worked up about it.
They left the topic of the school, and instead discussed their museum visit the previous day. They spent the rest of the dinner discussing modern art, and Charles ended up defending cubism, which he was not particularly fond of, but he turned out to be more more so than Erik, who thought that abstract art was pointless. The restaurant was completely empty and the waiters were throwing them annoyed looks when they decided to agree to disagree, and Erik rose, hesitating.
‘A game of chess, perhaps?’ he suggested.
‘I was going to suggest just that,’ Charles said and unlocked his wheels. ‘Come on, my suite’s closest.’ He wheeled himself first, and Erik followed. In silence, they set up the chess pieces and settled down to play. On occasion they would look at each other and smile, sharing in each other’s contentment. It still seemed strange to Charles that however much he and Erik disagreed on things, he was still so comfortable around him. Erik must have been thinking something similar, because after half an hour of playing, he cleared his throat and said:
‘I’m glad that you trust me enough to tell me the things you did tonight.’
‘Well, if it turns out I was wrong to trust you, I could always make you forget,’ Charles said lightly, as if to imply that the confidence was not special. Erik did not seemed fooled by it, though, because there was nothing ironic in his smile.
‘I promise you, you will have no need to doubt me. We may not fight together, but we want the same thing.’ Charles did not argue. Tonight he wanted to believe it.
He considered his next move, and decided to move his bishop. He reached to take hold of the piece, but half-way to the board, Erik’s hand reached out and covered his. Charles stared as he turned his hand palm-up and traced a line from finger to heel, over his palm. He looked up and was met by the question in his eyes. Perhaps there had been an intentional ambiguity in what he had said about wanting the same thing. It could have been about their dream of a safe world for mutants, or about something more attainable in the present. Charles’ throat had gone very dry. Erik raised an eyebrow, prompting him. He closed his hand around his fingers.
‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll come to bed with you.’
Erik’s relief was so palpable that for a moment Charles half-expected to see tears in his eyes, but instead, Erik stood up and leaned over the table, a hand on his armrest. Their lips brushed against each other first and then met for a real kiss. It sparked an old flame inside them, and set Charles’ heart beating faster. His free hand stroked Erik’s hair and caressed his cheek. Erik hummed against his mouth and drew his hand down his chest. They separated, picking the places of contact apart one by one. Not taking his eyes off Erik, Charles unlocked the wheels and turned around. He looked up at him and, finding his hand, brought it to his lips.
‘Come on,’ he said softly and wheeled himself towards the bedroom. Erik followed him with long strides. Once there, they were pulled together again. Mouth pressed against mouth. Hands moved, reforming touch memories as they went. Charles wondered if they had ever felt as tender as now. He could not remember. There was so much he had forgotten - the shape of Erik’s chest, the bristly hairs on the back of his neck, the strength of his hands. He cradled Charles’ head as he sucked at his throat, making him whimper his name.
‘Let... let me move,’ he whispered. Erik drew back, a little disappointed, but his breathing came quickly and his eyes glowed. He watched Charles pulling himself onto the bed and then followed him. He covered his body with his own and kissed him so deeply it verged on painful. Charles’ shirt was already unbuttoned, and it was little work to push it off and pull the vest over his head. In the process, Erik pulled his shirt over his head, and then lay down again, chest to chest. They heaved against each other, the contact arousing in itself. Charles kissed down his neck, as Erik pushed his hips forward and ground against his body. He fought down an apology at his own impotence, realising that Erik might take it as an attempt to make him feel guilty. Instead he kissed him and traced his hands down his sides. He recognised the texture of his skin, but when he reached the lowest ribs, he felt something he did not remember. Erik, noticing his hesitation, broke the kiss and looked at him.
‘Hm?’
‘This is new,’ Charles explained and drew a finger over the unfamiliar scar. It was a few inches long, and did not seem very old.
‘The Metrochem factory, last year,’ he explained. ‘You must remember it.’
‘Yes,’ Charles said. ‘I sent the boys there. They said you withdrew very quickly. You didn’t have time to sabotage much.’ Erik nodded.
‘I was holding your students at bay, when a security guard behind me fired at me.’
‘But this isn’t a gun-wound,’ Charles said.
‘No, it’s not. I deflected it easily, but it took my attention off my front. Havok brought down some scaffolding, hence that.’
‘I didn’t know they wounded you,’ Charles said earnestly. ‘I asked them not to harm anyone, especially... not even you.’ Erik smiled a little at his lapse, and the way he could not decide whether to view him as enemy or lover.
‘It wasn’t deep,’ he said, ‘and it’s healed. Now...’ He traced his lips with a finger. ‘Are you going to continue talking?’ Charles pushed his hand away and kissed him. Then Erik moved downwards, kissing his way down his chest, and unbuttoned his trousers.
‘Erik...’
‘I want to see you,’ he explained. ‘All of you.’ He undressed him slowly. For a second, Charles thought that he should say no and announce that this was a bad idea, but it was too late, far too late. More than anything, it was too late because he could no longer pretend, to himself or to Erik, that he did not want this. Once Erik had stripped him, he pulled down the covers and spread them over him. Together, they struggled Erik out of his trousers. Erik moved to lie down, but Charles pushed him towards the bed-board. He had evidently expected to lead, but now he let himself be led. His eyes were wide-open as Charles pushed himself up on his elbows and settled between his legs. When he took him into his mouth, his eyes slid shut, and his gasps were close to shouts. That familiar hand settled on his neck, prompting him to meet his thrusts. Charles pushed down as much as was possible and enclosed him in his lips. He had not realised until now how much he had craved all of this. The world shrunk until all there was was their shared arousal and the points of contact. They lost themselves in it. Erik’s climax felt not like the end of an act, but simply a part of it. Charles pushed himself away to give him room, and Erik, bleary-eyed with the sensations, moved downwards and started touching him in earnest with hands and lips. He did not ask for instructions - perhaps he had figured out what would be best or, more likely, he had watched Gaby. Had he known that this was how they would end up? Charles wondered as Erik took his earlobe into his mouth. It was only a feverish reflection, and he felt like he did not care whether Erik had anticipated or planned it at all. He simply enclosed him in his arms as he circled his nipple with his tongue, prompting him to continue. The arousal peaked, making him gasp briefly, and started receding. He kept his hold around Erik, cradling his head against his chest. When he let his grip slacken, Erik pulled himself so that they were face to face. They looked at each other for a long time, not knowing whether to speak or kiss.
‘I love you.’ When the words escaped him, they felt as obvious as his own breath. Not in love with, as with Gaby, but love. Erik touched his cheek. His lips moved soundlessly at first, before he managed to compose himself.
‘I love you, Charles,’ he said. Charles smiled. He felt the strain in his face of oncoming tears, and afraid that they might erupt, he wrapped his arms around Erik and pulled him close. He returned the embrace and pressed him close.
‘What changed your mind?’ Erik murmured into his hair.
‘I just couldn’t stand it any longer - pretending I didn’t want to,’ he answered. ‘After years of trying to deny it...’
‘Years?’
‘Yes. I was so angry, but I couldn’t help hoping...’ Charles chuckled and shifted to look at him. ‘I kept imagining that one day, you’d turn up. Sometimes I almost thought I saw you crossing the grounds towards the house, to join us...’ Erik snorted.
‘Dreamer.’
‘Yes,’ Charles said sincerely. ‘You’re right. But that dream did come true, after a fashion.’
‘I’m not joining your X-Men,’ Erik told him.
‘Well, that bit was only half of it,’ Charles said. It was an important part, but rationally, he knew that it could never be. At least this could. He touched Erik’s cheek, and he mirrored him.
‘I just hope you were wrong.’
Charles frowned.
‘What do you mean?’
Erik’s hand fell from his face.
‘About your objections,’ he explained. ‘That it might complicate things with Gaby...’
‘Let’s not talk about that now,’ Charles murmured and put his head against his shoulder. He had spent too much time agonising about consequences today. His relationship with Gaby felt complicated, whereas this seemed easy. He knew how to deal with strained mutant-human relations and opposing ideologies. He did not know what to do about the pressure of society and the risk of pregnancy. Prejudice and legislation aside, homosexuality was much easier.
Erik’s face remained in its slight frown. Charles’ attempt to wave it away seemed to have gone unnoticed.
‘I think it’s a valid concern,’ he pointed out. ‘Why wouldn’t you want to talk about it?’ Charles groaned in exasperation.
‘Please, Erik,’ he said. ‘We were having a lovely time...’
‘Don’t you care for her?’ His tone had sharpened, but it was not yet unkind.
‘Of course I care for her,’ Charles said and drew away from the embrace to push himself up against the bed board. ‘It’s just that being with her... it’s messy sometimes. Complicated. With you...’ He reached out to touch him, but Erik flinched away. His eyes were fixed on him, as if what he saw was incomprehensible, alien even.
‘I don’t understand you,’ Erik said. ‘You safeguard her interests so long, and then you give in. You want to end it with her, and then you go to bed with her and me. Then you won’t kiss me, because it might somehow hurt Gaby, and suddenly here you are, in bed with me, not even wanting to talk about her.’ Charles pressed his lips together defiantly, uncomfortable with having it spelt out like this. Erik looked at him and then proclaimed: ‘You’re a hypocrite, Charles.’
‘And you’re not?’ he blurted. ‘You keep talking about human oppression, but with Gaby, it’s none of that. She’s a person, but none of the others are.’ Erik guffawed in astonishment.
‘Not only are you a hypocrite, you’re petty too,’ he said. ‘Why does that bother you so much? Do I not fulfill your villainous ideal? Are you jealous? Of whom?’ Throughout his questions, Charles shook his head. He did not know why they were suddenly arguing. All he wanted was for Erik to curl around him and hold him, but the tenderness on his face was gone. Instead there was only anger and disappointment.
‘Please, Erik,’ he whispered, about to ask him to stop, but he did not heed him.
‘Why do you want me to hate her?’ Because it would make everything easier. Because I feel left out. Because I’m afraid that you’ll leave me, both of you.
‘I don’t want you to hate her,’ he exclaimed. ‘I’m just afraid you’ll suddenly start hating her!’
‘Why would I?’ Erik asked.
‘Why do we have to talk about this now, of all times?’ Charles cried. ‘When we finally... finally...’ He broke off, his throat tight. Erik was shook his head, still staring at him.
‘You said there must be no twos, but you’re making them,’ he said. ‘Why did you force it into this? Why did you go after her in the first place?’ Charles tried to think of a good answer, and realised that the true one was very simple.
‘Because I was lonely.’
‘But I was there,’ Erik shouted. In the dim light, the tears glistened on his cheeks. The anger was gone. The sorrow remained. ‘I reached out to you, and you rejected me, and then Gaby turned up, and you went after her instead.... Why?’
Charles knew the answer well. She was a woman. She bore no guilt as Erik did. She was at once strange and familiar, in her beauty and her tragedy.
‘When did you settle on her?’ Erik asked and looked away. Charles started protesting, but he shook his head and repeated: ‘When? There must have been something that made up your mind.’
He thought back to that evening at the fish restaurant, and realised that there was one distinct turning-point. Charles closed his eyes, not wanting to look at him.
‘Yes. There was.’
‘When was it?’ Erik pressed. ‘When she collapsed?’
‘No,’ he said and opened his eyes, but he could not bear turning his gaze on him. ‘It was after that, when you left to get her a glass of water. I took off her glove to feel her pulse.’ Erik’s mouth thinned in realisation.
‘Her glove,’ he said. ‘Her left glove.’
‘Yes,’ Charles whispered. He wanted to flee from his gaze, feeling suddenly afraid. He knew that Erik would not lash out at him, but he almost wished he would. If he struck him, at least he could fight back. There was no way of evading the thoughts and emotions which were crashing against him. First came shock, then surprise, then the cold burn of something close to betrayal.
‘Is that what this is about?’ Erik whispered, wide-eyed. ‘The ways she and I are alike?’
‘It’s so much more than that,’ Charles objected, but he was not listening. Instead, he curled his left hand into a fist and held out his arm, presenting him with the numbers tattooed on it.
‘Is this all I am to you?’ he asked. ‘Is this all we are?’
‘No,’ Charles exclaimed, not even trying to brush his tears aside now. ‘No, it’s not...’
But what if he was right? What if he was in love not with the young woman with her passion for Brecht and knowledge of international law, but for the mad girl, with paper-thin skin and shallow bones? What if he loved her for her pain, and for the fact that it was so much like Erik’s? What if he was not in love with her, but through her?
Had it not been for that tattoo on her arm, he would not have paid attention to her like he had. He would have helped her and calmed her and sent her home in a cab, of cousre, but he did not think he would have asked to see her again, and he would not have been given the time to fall for her. It had taken that small thing to mark her out and make him truly pay attention to her. But surely there must have been more, and Erik must be wrong that it was the only thing he saw in her and in him... Charles hoped so.
Erik did not seem to believe his dissent, but turned away and threw away the covers.
‘Erik, don’t go,’ Charles said. Erik did not answer, but simply climbed off the bed and found his clothes.
‘I never thought I would say this to a mutant, Charles, but your power is your ruin,’ Erik said, speaking very fast as he dressed, half turned away from him. ‘It’s not just what it does to others - it’s what it does to you. Seeing into people’s souls hasn’t made you more than human. It’s made you inhuman.’
‘How can you say such a thing?’ Charles whispered. On top of everything, this seemed more than cruel.
‘It’s true,’ Erik said curtly and shrugged on his shirt.
‘For goodness’ sake, Erik, how can you say such a thing...?’
‘I’m not interested in your excuses,’ Erik aid, pushing on his shoes. Charles could not see his face, but he thought he was crying again. ‘You make it out like you care so much, but you’re cold, right through.’ Then, he collected the rest of his clothes and walked away.
‘Erik, please!’ Charles called, but he was already gone. From the other room, he heard the door slam shut. He waited, holding his breath. Perhaps he would come back... But the silence remained, without any footsteps to interrupt it. He sensed Erik’s mind moving further away. Every word he had spoken spun around in Charles’ head, and as if it would blot them out, he pushed at his temples in despair. He must be wrong, he thought. Oh God, he must be wrong... It angered him that Erik had said such things, but perhaps worse, it worried him that he could not confidently dismiss them. And so he instead thought, I hope he’s wrong, even as he wished that Erik was still there with his arms around him.
Next chapter
Fandom X-Men First Class
Pairings Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier/Gabrielle Haller, in all possible combinations.
World count of chapter 6031
Word count of entire fic 94 000
Rating/warnings NC-17. Sexual situations, mental illness, professional misconduct, period homophobia, ableism and racism as well as casual misogyny, discussion of genocide and sexual abuse.
Disclaimer Marvels owns it, not I.
Summary After a chance meeting, the recently reunited mutant school-master and leader of the Brotherhood both become fascinated by Gabrielle Haller, a human who has demons of her own to fight. As Erik finds himself pulled between his mutant identity and his human heritage, Charles wrestles with his own ethical code and his attraction to his friend. The innocent distraction between the three of them rapidly grows more complicated and, ultimately, altogether more sinister.
Author’s notes This chapter’s unbetaed, so if you see anything that looks odd, it’s all my fault.
Tuesday was spent in art-galleries. When Charles and Erik had done the Guggenheim, they decided to continue, and at the end of the day it felt as if there was not a painting in New York they had not seen, even if Charles knew they had just scratched the surface. Most of the time they had spent in companionable silence. When there had been an opinion Charles had wanted to communicate to him, he had reached out and touched his friend’s mind to tell him. Erik did not object, but instead seemed pleased by it. It was an intimate gesture Charles had not dared a few weeks ago.
The next day, Erik left the hotel early, and as Gaby had not stayed over, Charles had the day to himself. The past few years, he had grown used to solitude, but now he felt unaccustomed in the psychic silence. It was like trying on an old pair of favourite shoes and finding that they no longer fit the way one remembered. He attempted to read, but his mind wandered. It struck hm suddenly how seldom he thought about the school. It was as if he had all but forgotten Hank with his excited research projects, Sean and his endearing failures in the kitchen, Alex and his sparring and training. He even felt like he had forgotten about the children. He missed them, but his longing was muted, badly tuned. It was a different world, and in New York, which was part of the human world, it was difficult to imagine that the mutant school was real.
Would it be able to reconcile the two worlds? Before Charles had imagined that when he went back, it would mean cutting all connections to this little reality he and Erik and Gaby formed, but now, he allowed himself to play with the idea that it might not end with that. What if he could convince Erik to come with him, and merge their forces into one? What if he could bring Gaby with him? He imagined presenting her to his surprised students. This is Gabrielle Haller, my...
He paused in his fantasy, realising the word he had almost thought. Without warning, his imagination had jumped to the prospect of engagement. Charles did not think he had thought of it before this daydream where he called Gaby his fiancée, and it had never been mentioned. Of course it had not - they had known each other a matter of months, far too short time to think of such things yet. Time was not the only issue. Charles remembered Gaby’s objection, it’s not a problem, but he felt that she could not truly know. What woman would marry a cripple if she had some other alternative? Even if she said she was in love with him, even if she spent time with him, he was reluctant to accept that her words were the whole truth. Besides, in the eyes of Gaby’s aunt, he would certainly not be an ideal candidate, by virtue of his religion as well as his handicap. And people might object, not only on Gaby’s side...
Now he saw the scene he had imagined change, as the mutants stared and, turning to each other, whispered: human, human, human. He wanted to think that they would accept her, but he was not certain. He was not even certain if just bringing a human to the mansion was right. How would they react if he married one?
It felt absurd that he had let his daydreams go this far. The thought scared him, but it was evidently something he wanted on some level, considering that he had thought of it in the first place. All the same, if that was the case, it would have to stay as fantasies.
These thoughts had occupied Charles for most of the day, and towards the evening, the prospect of meeting Erik and Gaby for dinner felt welcome. Seeing them in the flesh should clear his head from this persistent chimera. It was less than half an hour before they were to meet when the phone rang. Putting the book, which he had been holding but not reading, aside, he crossed to answer.
‘Xavier.’ On the other end of the line, he could hear the murmur of voices, and then, Gaby’s hurried half-whisper:
‘Charles, it’s me. I’m so sorry, there’s a meeting - they need me to take the minutes for it...’
‘Oh,’ Charles said, a little surprised. ‘Will you be late...?’
‘I think I’ll be here all evening,’ she answered and sighed. ‘I’m sorry...’
‘Don’t be, my dear,’ Charles said. ‘We’ll miss you, of course, but don’t feel bad about it.’
‘They said I could have the morning off tomorrow,’ Gaby said, sounding a litlte happier. ‘I won’t have to come in until eleven.’
‘I’ll give you a call tomorrow, then.’
‘Wonderful. Give Erik my love.’
‘Naturally,’ Charles said. ‘Take care.’ With a final, ‘you too,’ Gaby rang off. Charles put the receiver down, trying to rid himself of the mild disappointment he was feeling. He would see her in the morning, and perhaps an evening in Erik’s company would clear his mind equally.
When Charles entered the hotel restaurant a little while later, it was obvious that Erik felt Gaby’s absence keenly. When he saw him, he stood up and gave him an inquiring look.
‘Gaby isn’t here yet,’ he said.
‘She’s not coming,’ Charles said and made an apologetic face. ‘She called - they’re keeping her at the office. Apparently they wanted her to take the minutes for some meeting.’ Erik sighed. ‘It can’t be helped,’ Charles added and shook out his napkin.
‘Of course not,’ Erik said with a shrug. ‘She has a decent job, which is more than we have.’ Charles looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.
‘Perhaps you should consider becoming a teacher,’ he suggested. He had not known how Erik would react to that, even when said as a joke, but his solemn face split into a sharkish grin.
‘You can try to persuade me all you want, Charles,’ he said. ‘You know it’s not going to work.’
‘I think you’d be a splendid teacher,’ Charles said and stopped to think. ‘Well, after a bit of training.’
‘You seem to have this idea that I am uncultured,’ Erik said teasingly. ‘It is the lack of a family fortune or of education which gives you that idea?’
‘I suspect it’s down to the terrorism, really,’ Charles answered, mock-serious. As Erik grinned at him, he reflected how odd it was that they could joke about such things. He supposed that it was their way of keeping their conflict at bay.
They ordered wine, and did not speak until it arrived. When they first met again, silence had been something Charles had feared, and it had always felt very awkward. Now, it felt comfortable. When Erik caught his eye as the waiter poured their wine, he returned the gaze and smiled. Leaving the bottle behind, the waiter disappeared. They tasted the wine together.
‘Not bad,’ Charles said. Erik nodded, holding the glass up to the light, but he was not really looking at it. It was only a gesture which stalled for time. He put the glass down and said:
‘I’ve decided to go to the synagogue with Gaby.’ He did not look at Charles when he said it, and it sounded rushed, as if he needed to say it before he changed his mind.
‘That’s wonderful,’ Charles said and smiled.
‘I hope so,’ Erik said, his face unreadable. ‘I haven’t worshipped for so long. My family was devout, so I have always thought that it would be a painful reminder, but... if she can do it, why can’t I?’
‘It’ll probably do you good. Religion can work as a healing force.’ Erik shrugged, obviously not knowing what to say. Charles watched him for a while, and then asked: ‘For whose sake are you going?’ Erik looked at him and frowned.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Are you going for God’s sake, or for Gaby’s sake?’ Charles clarified. Erik thought about it.
‘I suppose I’ll find out once I get there,’ he said finally.
‘Whatever the reason, I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ Charles said and casually touched his arm. By the look on Erik’s face, it surprised him. It surprised Charles himself. He had not planned to do it, but it had come naturally. He smiled apologetically and drew away, busying himself with the menu. He was aware of Erik watching him, but he did not press him. Now the silence was more charged, and Charles knew that he only had himself to blame.
This time, it was Erik who spoke first.
‘Charles, can I ask something?’
Charles’ stomach flipped, but he made himself sound unaffected.
‘Of course.’ When Erik did not ask immediately, he turned to him, and saw how he had leaned closer, watching him. His gaze prompted Erik to speak.
‘Does Gaby prefer one of us over the other?’ Charles gave him an incredulous stare.
‘Erik, how can you ask such a thing?’
‘Because I suppose you know it,’ Erik said calmly.
‘I would never...’ At that, he snorted.
‘You must have read her mind, Charles,’ he said. ‘You must have been curious.’
‘Curiosity isn’t an excuse for unethical use of such a power,’ Charles said sharply. Erik smirked.
‘Is that what you tell your children?’ he asked, leaning a little closer. His voice had become an intense whisper, and his tone sounded almost seductive. ‘Is that what you tell your X-Men? Do you lie to make them feel safe - do you think they would not trust you if they knew that you could kill them with a thought? Aren’t you ever tempted to seize the world and shape it? You could have your mutant-human peace. All you’d have to do would be to think. You can do what others only dream of.’
Charles looked at him, tightlipped.
‘If you have thought of that, you should have realised why I am careful with using my powers,’ he answered finally. Erik shifted closer still.
‘How come other rules apply to you?’ he asked. ‘You tell others to embrace their powers, to rejoice in them, while you keep yours locked away. I don’t see why you are so reluctant.’ Charles let out a breath slowly.
‘This is why we fight on different sides, my friend.’ Erik leaned back in his chair. The sadness Charles felt seemed not to be shared by him.
‘Have you really never been tempted?’ he pressed. Charles shook his head.
‘If I so much as think about it, I would forfeit the right to use those powers.’ He wished that it was that easy, but Erik was right. Of course he had thought about it, and only over the last few weeks, he had started bending his rules by eavesdropping on Erik and Gaby. He had to make sure that that was as far as the abuse of his powers went. Taking away Moira’s memories had at least served a purpose. This was at best curiosity, at worst jealousy.
Erik snorted at his reply, as if he knew. Then he reminded him:
‘We were talking about Gaby.’ Charles threw him an annoyed look.
‘Things might have... bled through,’ he said. Consciously or not, Erik had effectively tricked him into answering. ‘It’s not really as simple as preferring one or the other. She values different things about us.’ Erik made a gesture to make him continue. Charles braided his fingers together and spoke. ‘She feels an affinity to you. There is something familiar about you, with the fact that you’re both Jewish, and I suppose, also a comfort in... well, shared experiences. But she finds there’s a sense of adventure about you that she cherishes. She’s intrigued by the things she does not know. She imagines that the life you have lived is fuller than her own.’
‘And what about you?’ Erik asked. ‘What does she value in you?’ That was harder to speak of. It felt strange to explain something that pertained to oneself like that.
‘Well... I make her feel safe. She thinks of me as her first friend for a very long time. She enjoys our conversations. Where you finds you exciting, she finds me tender. She feels that I know her properly, which I suppose I do, even if she does not know why, of course.’ He went silent. Erik raised his eyebrows.
‘And...?’
‘And nothing,’ Charles answered. Erik grinned.
‘You’re leaving something out,’ he said. Charles sighed, both impressed and annoyed with his friend’s astuteness.
‘It’s the wheelchair,’ he explained.
‘She pities you, you mean?’ he asked, but Charles shook his head.
‘No, it’s not pity. It’s fascination. I can’t quite explain it...’ He gathered his thoughts, and then said: ‘It makes her feel strong. She feels that perhaps she’s not so broken after all.’ Erik watched him, an strange look in his eye.
‘How ironic,’ he finally said, ‘that you would be the most broken of the three of us.’ Charles looked away, uncomfortable with the subject. He wanted to say, that’s not the way it works, but he did not want to start discussing that. It would either provoke or upset Erik, and he wanted neither of those things. Also, he realised that he did not want to talk more about Gaby. After a day of considering ways things could go wrong between them, he wanted some respite.
‘Let’s talk about something else,’ he said, and Erik smiled knowingly. It looked almost like it pleased him that he had disturbed him.
‘Tell me about your school.’ Charles straightened up, startled. Even if Erik’s face barely changed, he could see the disappointment in his eyes. ‘I’m not asking because of any ulterior motive,’ he said. ‘I’d simply like to learn what you have done when we’ve been apart.’
‘I-I’m sorry,’ Charles stammered. ‘I didn’t mean...’ Erik cut him off.
‘You thought that I was asking because I wanted to use it in some plan,’ he said, his disappointment evident now. ‘You do not trust me.’
‘I do,’ Charles said earnestly. ‘It’s just... those children are under my protection. If anything happened to them...’ Erik turned his eyes on him fiercely.
‘They’re mutant children,’ Erik reminded him. ‘They are the ones I am fighting for.’ Charles nodded, but looked away, ashamed by his lapse of faith. He felt Erik draw his fingers over his hand briefly. When he looked up, his gaze was sincere. ‘Let me know who I am fighting for,’ he said. Charles swallowed. The idea that Erik protected them as much as he did touched him deeply.
‘There are six students now,’ he said quietly. Even if the restaurant was not busy, he was careful that no-one should hear them. ‘There’s Scott, who’s Alex’s little brother.’ Erik raised an impressed eyebrow. ‘His power is quite... destructive.’
‘That runs in the family,’ Erik chuckled. Charles smiled too, realising how anxious he was for Erik’s approval. ‘What can he do?’
‘We call it an optic blast,’ Charles explained. ‘He emits powerful energy beams from his eyes. I designed a visor to keep it under control - before that, he would destroy anything he looked at.’
‘He can’t control it?’ Erik asked, frowning in compassion. Charles shook his head morosely.
‘No. He suffered head trauma in the plane crash that killed his parents - I think it might be connected to that.’ He paused and continued his description. ‘Then there’s Jean. She’s psychic, but her primary power is telekinesis. She’s a very clever girl, and quite talented with her powers too.’
‘Teacher’s pet?’ Erik said and raised an eyebrow. Charles laughed.
‘Perhaps a little,’ he admitted. ‘If you met her, you’d understand - she’s lovely. She and Scott are the eldest. Rahne’s youngest - she’s only nine. The most apt way of describing her, I suppose, is a werewolf. Well, without the business with the moon phases. She can transform into a wolf.’
‘Impressive.’
‘She’s a very shy girl - she had a quite strict upbringing back in Scotland, but she’s making friends,’ Charles said. ‘She and the twins are very close.’
‘Mutant twins?’ Erik said, looking intrigued. ‘Identical?’ Charles shook his head.
‘No - a boy and a girl. Wanda and Pietro. Pietro is able to move incredibly fast, much faster than any ordinary human. Wanda can affect probabilities. Essentially, she can change, well, reality. She’s still insisting to say that it’s really magic, so she and Rahne bond over considering themselves supernaturals.’
‘The werewolf and the witch?’
‘Exactly,’ Charles said, smiling at the thought of the children. ‘They’re not that much older than Rahne, and they’ve had a harder time adjusting. We found them in a Romanian orphanage. I dread to think what might have happened to them if they had stayed there. They picked up English in a matter of weeks, though. Absolutely remarkable - they sound native now. Ororo’s the same.’
‘I suppose she’s the sixth pupil,’ Erik said, and Charles nodded. ‘Where did you find her?’
‘In Cairo. She can control the weather. When there was a snow-storm in mid-June there, it was quite easy to realise that something was happening.’ Erik smiled with him. Charles was not used to seeing such warmth in his eyes.
‘You sound very fond of them all,’ Erik said finally.
‘I am,’ Charles said. ‘It’s hard not to be.’ He had come to think of his students as his own children, especially as he would probably not have any of his own. The possiblity of that had certainly grown in the past weeks. That thought sent a brief jab of panic through him. He had not considered that before. Even if they had taken precautions, there was always a risk involved. It would be more probable that Erik would have a child by her, but it was in no way impossible that Charles might. He shook himself mentally to dismiss the thought. It was purely hypothetical, after all - there was no need to get worked up about it.
They left the topic of the school, and instead discussed their museum visit the previous day. They spent the rest of the dinner discussing modern art, and Charles ended up defending cubism, which he was not particularly fond of, but he turned out to be more more so than Erik, who thought that abstract art was pointless. The restaurant was completely empty and the waiters were throwing them annoyed looks when they decided to agree to disagree, and Erik rose, hesitating.
‘A game of chess, perhaps?’ he suggested.
‘I was going to suggest just that,’ Charles said and unlocked his wheels. ‘Come on, my suite’s closest.’ He wheeled himself first, and Erik followed. In silence, they set up the chess pieces and settled down to play. On occasion they would look at each other and smile, sharing in each other’s contentment. It still seemed strange to Charles that however much he and Erik disagreed on things, he was still so comfortable around him. Erik must have been thinking something similar, because after half an hour of playing, he cleared his throat and said:
‘I’m glad that you trust me enough to tell me the things you did tonight.’
‘Well, if it turns out I was wrong to trust you, I could always make you forget,’ Charles said lightly, as if to imply that the confidence was not special. Erik did not seemed fooled by it, though, because there was nothing ironic in his smile.
‘I promise you, you will have no need to doubt me. We may not fight together, but we want the same thing.’ Charles did not argue. Tonight he wanted to believe it.
He considered his next move, and decided to move his bishop. He reached to take hold of the piece, but half-way to the board, Erik’s hand reached out and covered his. Charles stared as he turned his hand palm-up and traced a line from finger to heel, over his palm. He looked up and was met by the question in his eyes. Perhaps there had been an intentional ambiguity in what he had said about wanting the same thing. It could have been about their dream of a safe world for mutants, or about something more attainable in the present. Charles’ throat had gone very dry. Erik raised an eyebrow, prompting him. He closed his hand around his fingers.
‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll come to bed with you.’
Erik’s relief was so palpable that for a moment Charles half-expected to see tears in his eyes, but instead, Erik stood up and leaned over the table, a hand on his armrest. Their lips brushed against each other first and then met for a real kiss. It sparked an old flame inside them, and set Charles’ heart beating faster. His free hand stroked Erik’s hair and caressed his cheek. Erik hummed against his mouth and drew his hand down his chest. They separated, picking the places of contact apart one by one. Not taking his eyes off Erik, Charles unlocked the wheels and turned around. He looked up at him and, finding his hand, brought it to his lips.
‘Come on,’ he said softly and wheeled himself towards the bedroom. Erik followed him with long strides. Once there, they were pulled together again. Mouth pressed against mouth. Hands moved, reforming touch memories as they went. Charles wondered if they had ever felt as tender as now. He could not remember. There was so much he had forgotten - the shape of Erik’s chest, the bristly hairs on the back of his neck, the strength of his hands. He cradled Charles’ head as he sucked at his throat, making him whimper his name.
‘Let... let me move,’ he whispered. Erik drew back, a little disappointed, but his breathing came quickly and his eyes glowed. He watched Charles pulling himself onto the bed and then followed him. He covered his body with his own and kissed him so deeply it verged on painful. Charles’ shirt was already unbuttoned, and it was little work to push it off and pull the vest over his head. In the process, Erik pulled his shirt over his head, and then lay down again, chest to chest. They heaved against each other, the contact arousing in itself. Charles kissed down his neck, as Erik pushed his hips forward and ground against his body. He fought down an apology at his own impotence, realising that Erik might take it as an attempt to make him feel guilty. Instead he kissed him and traced his hands down his sides. He recognised the texture of his skin, but when he reached the lowest ribs, he felt something he did not remember. Erik, noticing his hesitation, broke the kiss and looked at him.
‘Hm?’
‘This is new,’ Charles explained and drew a finger over the unfamiliar scar. It was a few inches long, and did not seem very old.
‘The Metrochem factory, last year,’ he explained. ‘You must remember it.’
‘Yes,’ Charles said. ‘I sent the boys there. They said you withdrew very quickly. You didn’t have time to sabotage much.’ Erik nodded.
‘I was holding your students at bay, when a security guard behind me fired at me.’
‘But this isn’t a gun-wound,’ Charles said.
‘No, it’s not. I deflected it easily, but it took my attention off my front. Havok brought down some scaffolding, hence that.’
‘I didn’t know they wounded you,’ Charles said earnestly. ‘I asked them not to harm anyone, especially... not even you.’ Erik smiled a little at his lapse, and the way he could not decide whether to view him as enemy or lover.
‘It wasn’t deep,’ he said, ‘and it’s healed. Now...’ He traced his lips with a finger. ‘Are you going to continue talking?’ Charles pushed his hand away and kissed him. Then Erik moved downwards, kissing his way down his chest, and unbuttoned his trousers.
‘Erik...’
‘I want to see you,’ he explained. ‘All of you.’ He undressed him slowly. For a second, Charles thought that he should say no and announce that this was a bad idea, but it was too late, far too late. More than anything, it was too late because he could no longer pretend, to himself or to Erik, that he did not want this. Once Erik had stripped him, he pulled down the covers and spread them over him. Together, they struggled Erik out of his trousers. Erik moved to lie down, but Charles pushed him towards the bed-board. He had evidently expected to lead, but now he let himself be led. His eyes were wide-open as Charles pushed himself up on his elbows and settled between his legs. When he took him into his mouth, his eyes slid shut, and his gasps were close to shouts. That familiar hand settled on his neck, prompting him to meet his thrusts. Charles pushed down as much as was possible and enclosed him in his lips. He had not realised until now how much he had craved all of this. The world shrunk until all there was was their shared arousal and the points of contact. They lost themselves in it. Erik’s climax felt not like the end of an act, but simply a part of it. Charles pushed himself away to give him room, and Erik, bleary-eyed with the sensations, moved downwards and started touching him in earnest with hands and lips. He did not ask for instructions - perhaps he had figured out what would be best or, more likely, he had watched Gaby. Had he known that this was how they would end up? Charles wondered as Erik took his earlobe into his mouth. It was only a feverish reflection, and he felt like he did not care whether Erik had anticipated or planned it at all. He simply enclosed him in his arms as he circled his nipple with his tongue, prompting him to continue. The arousal peaked, making him gasp briefly, and started receding. He kept his hold around Erik, cradling his head against his chest. When he let his grip slacken, Erik pulled himself so that they were face to face. They looked at each other for a long time, not knowing whether to speak or kiss.
‘I love you.’ When the words escaped him, they felt as obvious as his own breath. Not in love with, as with Gaby, but love. Erik touched his cheek. His lips moved soundlessly at first, before he managed to compose himself.
‘I love you, Charles,’ he said. Charles smiled. He felt the strain in his face of oncoming tears, and afraid that they might erupt, he wrapped his arms around Erik and pulled him close. He returned the embrace and pressed him close.
‘What changed your mind?’ Erik murmured into his hair.
‘I just couldn’t stand it any longer - pretending I didn’t want to,’ he answered. ‘After years of trying to deny it...’
‘Years?’
‘Yes. I was so angry, but I couldn’t help hoping...’ Charles chuckled and shifted to look at him. ‘I kept imagining that one day, you’d turn up. Sometimes I almost thought I saw you crossing the grounds towards the house, to join us...’ Erik snorted.
‘Dreamer.’
‘Yes,’ Charles said sincerely. ‘You’re right. But that dream did come true, after a fashion.’
‘I’m not joining your X-Men,’ Erik told him.
‘Well, that bit was only half of it,’ Charles said. It was an important part, but rationally, he knew that it could never be. At least this could. He touched Erik’s cheek, and he mirrored him.
‘I just hope you were wrong.’
Charles frowned.
‘What do you mean?’
Erik’s hand fell from his face.
‘About your objections,’ he explained. ‘That it might complicate things with Gaby...’
‘Let’s not talk about that now,’ Charles murmured and put his head against his shoulder. He had spent too much time agonising about consequences today. His relationship with Gaby felt complicated, whereas this seemed easy. He knew how to deal with strained mutant-human relations and opposing ideologies. He did not know what to do about the pressure of society and the risk of pregnancy. Prejudice and legislation aside, homosexuality was much easier.
Erik’s face remained in its slight frown. Charles’ attempt to wave it away seemed to have gone unnoticed.
‘I think it’s a valid concern,’ he pointed out. ‘Why wouldn’t you want to talk about it?’ Charles groaned in exasperation.
‘Please, Erik,’ he said. ‘We were having a lovely time...’
‘Don’t you care for her?’ His tone had sharpened, but it was not yet unkind.
‘Of course I care for her,’ Charles said and drew away from the embrace to push himself up against the bed board. ‘It’s just that being with her... it’s messy sometimes. Complicated. With you...’ He reached out to touch him, but Erik flinched away. His eyes were fixed on him, as if what he saw was incomprehensible, alien even.
‘I don’t understand you,’ Erik said. ‘You safeguard her interests so long, and then you give in. You want to end it with her, and then you go to bed with her and me. Then you won’t kiss me, because it might somehow hurt Gaby, and suddenly here you are, in bed with me, not even wanting to talk about her.’ Charles pressed his lips together defiantly, uncomfortable with having it spelt out like this. Erik looked at him and then proclaimed: ‘You’re a hypocrite, Charles.’
‘And you’re not?’ he blurted. ‘You keep talking about human oppression, but with Gaby, it’s none of that. She’s a person, but none of the others are.’ Erik guffawed in astonishment.
‘Not only are you a hypocrite, you’re petty too,’ he said. ‘Why does that bother you so much? Do I not fulfill your villainous ideal? Are you jealous? Of whom?’ Throughout his questions, Charles shook his head. He did not know why they were suddenly arguing. All he wanted was for Erik to curl around him and hold him, but the tenderness on his face was gone. Instead there was only anger and disappointment.
‘Please, Erik,’ he whispered, about to ask him to stop, but he did not heed him.
‘Why do you want me to hate her?’ Because it would make everything easier. Because I feel left out. Because I’m afraid that you’ll leave me, both of you.
‘I don’t want you to hate her,’ he exclaimed. ‘I’m just afraid you’ll suddenly start hating her!’
‘Why would I?’ Erik asked.
‘Why do we have to talk about this now, of all times?’ Charles cried. ‘When we finally... finally...’ He broke off, his throat tight. Erik was shook his head, still staring at him.
‘You said there must be no twos, but you’re making them,’ he said. ‘Why did you force it into this? Why did you go after her in the first place?’ Charles tried to think of a good answer, and realised that the true one was very simple.
‘Because I was lonely.’
‘But I was there,’ Erik shouted. In the dim light, the tears glistened on his cheeks. The anger was gone. The sorrow remained. ‘I reached out to you, and you rejected me, and then Gaby turned up, and you went after her instead.... Why?’
Charles knew the answer well. She was a woman. She bore no guilt as Erik did. She was at once strange and familiar, in her beauty and her tragedy.
‘When did you settle on her?’ Erik asked and looked away. Charles started protesting, but he shook his head and repeated: ‘When? There must have been something that made up your mind.’
He thought back to that evening at the fish restaurant, and realised that there was one distinct turning-point. Charles closed his eyes, not wanting to look at him.
‘Yes. There was.’
‘When was it?’ Erik pressed. ‘When she collapsed?’
‘No,’ he said and opened his eyes, but he could not bear turning his gaze on him. ‘It was after that, when you left to get her a glass of water. I took off her glove to feel her pulse.’ Erik’s mouth thinned in realisation.
‘Her glove,’ he said. ‘Her left glove.’
‘Yes,’ Charles whispered. He wanted to flee from his gaze, feeling suddenly afraid. He knew that Erik would not lash out at him, but he almost wished he would. If he struck him, at least he could fight back. There was no way of evading the thoughts and emotions which were crashing against him. First came shock, then surprise, then the cold burn of something close to betrayal.
‘Is that what this is about?’ Erik whispered, wide-eyed. ‘The ways she and I are alike?’
‘It’s so much more than that,’ Charles objected, but he was not listening. Instead, he curled his left hand into a fist and held out his arm, presenting him with the numbers tattooed on it.
‘Is this all I am to you?’ he asked. ‘Is this all we are?’
‘No,’ Charles exclaimed, not even trying to brush his tears aside now. ‘No, it’s not...’
But what if he was right? What if he was in love not with the young woman with her passion for Brecht and knowledge of international law, but for the mad girl, with paper-thin skin and shallow bones? What if he loved her for her pain, and for the fact that it was so much like Erik’s? What if he was not in love with her, but through her?
Had it not been for that tattoo on her arm, he would not have paid attention to her like he had. He would have helped her and calmed her and sent her home in a cab, of cousre, but he did not think he would have asked to see her again, and he would not have been given the time to fall for her. It had taken that small thing to mark her out and make him truly pay attention to her. But surely there must have been more, and Erik must be wrong that it was the only thing he saw in her and in him... Charles hoped so.
Erik did not seem to believe his dissent, but turned away and threw away the covers.
‘Erik, don’t go,’ Charles said. Erik did not answer, but simply climbed off the bed and found his clothes.
‘I never thought I would say this to a mutant, Charles, but your power is your ruin,’ Erik said, speaking very fast as he dressed, half turned away from him. ‘It’s not just what it does to others - it’s what it does to you. Seeing into people’s souls hasn’t made you more than human. It’s made you inhuman.’
‘How can you say such a thing?’ Charles whispered. On top of everything, this seemed more than cruel.
‘It’s true,’ Erik said curtly and shrugged on his shirt.
‘For goodness’ sake, Erik, how can you say such a thing...?’
‘I’m not interested in your excuses,’ Erik aid, pushing on his shoes. Charles could not see his face, but he thought he was crying again. ‘You make it out like you care so much, but you’re cold, right through.’ Then, he collected the rest of his clothes and walked away.
‘Erik, please!’ Charles called, but he was already gone. From the other room, he heard the door slam shut. He waited, holding his breath. Perhaps he would come back... But the silence remained, without any footsteps to interrupt it. He sensed Erik’s mind moving further away. Every word he had spoken spun around in Charles’ head, and as if it would blot them out, he pushed at his temples in despair. He must be wrong, he thought. Oh God, he must be wrong... It angered him that Erik had said such things, but perhaps worse, it worried him that he could not confidently dismiss them. And so he instead thought, I hope he’s wrong, even as he wished that Erik was still there with his arms around him.
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