Skin and Blade (Erik/ Charles fic)
I didn't get anywhere near my computer yesterday, but I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgivukkah, or whatever permutation of those holidays you celebrate, if any.
This one is for alba17
Title: Skin and Blade
Rating: R
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Warnings: the tiniest bit of pain play/blood play
Word Count: ~350
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit
Summary: Erik doesn't need his hands to use a razor.
Erik didn't need his hands to use the straight-edge razor. So those clever hands, freed from Erik's self-appointed task of removing three days growth of beard from Charles’s face, devoted themselves to more important tasks: namely, undoing the fastenings of Charles’s trousers.
Pinned against the marble of the bathroom counter, Charles surrendered himself to both blade and hands: the smooth scrape of razor from cheekbone to jaw; the deft touch of Erik’s fingers on his lower regions.
He wished Erik would employ his mouth to equally good ends, but Erik was currently using that organ to cast aspersions on Charles’s facial hair. Or rather the lack thereof.
“Remind me again when you reached puberty,” Erik said, the razor tickling Charles’s cheek. “Have your testicles even dropped yet?”
As always, his derision sounded like affection, just as his affection always held a kernel of mockery.
“I think you’re quite aware of the state of my balls,” said Charles. He didn’t say it aloud. What need, when their minds were as close now as skin and blade?
In answer, Erik closed his hand around the aforementioned part of Charles’s anatomy and gently squeezed. Charles startled and gasped.
“Don’t move.” The words hovered in Charles’s mind as the razor pressed into the soft flesh of his throat, hard enough to make him tilt his head back. “Let me see for myself.”
Charles could feel Erik’s amusement at Charles’s enforced immobility as he pushed Charles’s trousers down, let them pool in the floor at his feet. And then the amusement turned to want as Erik knelt, splayed his hands around Charles’s hips, dug his fingers into his ass, and finally, finally, took Charles into his mouth.
It was too good. Charles moved his head without thinking, felt the blade nick the skin. It didn’t matter; the bright shock of pain only underlined the sensation of Erik’s lips and tongue around and against him. Recklessly, Charles tore away the last shred of barrier between their minds, and let his own pleasure pour into Erik’s.
The blade clattered to the tiled floor.
This one is for alba17
Title: Skin and Blade
Rating: R
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Warnings: the tiniest bit of pain play/blood play
Word Count: ~350
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit
Summary: Erik doesn't need his hands to use a razor.
Erik didn't need his hands to use the straight-edge razor. So those clever hands, freed from Erik's self-appointed task of removing three days growth of beard from Charles’s face, devoted themselves to more important tasks: namely, undoing the fastenings of Charles’s trousers.
Pinned against the marble of the bathroom counter, Charles surrendered himself to both blade and hands: the smooth scrape of razor from cheekbone to jaw; the deft touch of Erik’s fingers on his lower regions.
He wished Erik would employ his mouth to equally good ends, but Erik was currently using that organ to cast aspersions on Charles’s facial hair. Or rather the lack thereof.
“Remind me again when you reached puberty,” Erik said, the razor tickling Charles’s cheek. “Have your testicles even dropped yet?”
As always, his derision sounded like affection, just as his affection always held a kernel of mockery.
“I think you’re quite aware of the state of my balls,” said Charles. He didn’t say it aloud. What need, when their minds were as close now as skin and blade?
In answer, Erik closed his hand around the aforementioned part of Charles’s anatomy and gently squeezed. Charles startled and gasped.
“Don’t move.” The words hovered in Charles’s mind as the razor pressed into the soft flesh of his throat, hard enough to make him tilt his head back. “Let me see for myself.”
Charles could feel Erik’s amusement at Charles’s enforced immobility as he pushed Charles’s trousers down, let them pool in the floor at his feet. And then the amusement turned to want as Erik knelt, splayed his hands around Charles’s hips, dug his fingers into his ass, and finally, finally, took Charles into his mouth.
It was too good. Charles moved his head without thinking, felt the blade nick the skin. It didn’t matter; the bright shock of pain only underlined the sensation of Erik’s lips and tongue around and against him. Recklessly, Charles tore away the last shred of barrier between their minds, and let his own pleasure pour into Erik’s.
The blade clattered to the tiled floor.