Now, When I Said Love What I Truly Meant Was...[Incomplete]
Title: Now, When I Said Love What I Truly Meant To Say Was...
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Rating: PG
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Summary: Charles slips and calls Erik "my love".
Warnings: None!
Author's Notes: Written for the prompt here. This is a WIP and will eventually be finished
Charles' POV
Two men sit apart from each other, a chess set between them. Blue eyes stare in concentration at the man opposite, while the man opposite concentrates on the board.
With a flick of his wrist, grey eyes crinkle as a smirk reaches across his face.
He says to blue: "You really do need to pay attention, I believe that was check."
Blue eyes close as a chuckle erupts. He looks down at the board, and smiles softly.
"You know that doesn't mean much to me, my love."
Blue eyes widen and hands go to cover his mouth and increasingly red cheeks.
Oh dear gods, what have I done?
Grey eyes stare blue down.
"Is this some kind of joke Charles?" the last word spoken with such venom and spite.
Grey eyes glowering.
Hands drop from face to a lap. Blue eyes focus down at them, holding back tears. One wrong move and...
"I...Erik, you should let me explain."
It was only a mistake. A slip up. I know you're not queer, gods I know you're not...
Grey leans back in his chair, arms crossed at the chest.
"Well? I'm waiting."
And blues eyes can barely meet the grey in that moment, but he tries anyway.
"You see, my friend," The words being forced from his mouth. "It's a British tradition to..." The lie dying on his lips.
Blue eyes stand up, turning to gaze into grey.
Well, if I'm going to loose a friend, I might as well...
Takes the few steps to close the distance between him and the other man, and takes his face in his hands. Grey eyes constrict and muscle tense under the touch. tries to pull away and can't. Feels the sudden touch of chapped lips on his own.
As soon as it was registered, blue eyes are pulled far away and the man walked-no ran- to the door.
Grey eyes was left with the sound of a door slamming shut.
Erik's POV
"-mean that much to me, my love."
Erik looks up, watches as Charles turns red and covers his mouth. And all Erik can really think is WHAT. THE. FUCK.
"Is this some kind of joke, Charles?"
Because no, Erik think, he respects me enough not to read me. Would never...
Charles hands drop to his lap, he's focusing on them, avoiding everything and anythig that might resemble the man in front of him.
"I...Erik, you should let me explain."
Erik leans back, crosses his arms to his chest. Please tell me this is some kind of-I don't know, just. Fuck. There's a moment of silence and it's putting Erik on edge, the way Charles is fidgeting.
"Well? I'm waiting."
It comes out harsher than he means it to, and he realizes he really shouldn't have said anything at all, because now Charles is more flustered the before and can barley spare him a glance.
"You see, my friend," The emphasis on the last word doesn't go unheard. "it's a British tradition to..."
He stops, stares at Erik, and closes the distance between them. Erik tenses as he feels Charles' hands on his face. Tries to pull away but can't Feels the sudden touch of lips on his own.
And as soon as he realizes it, his mind telling him Wrap your fucking arms around him! Pull him in closer!, he's already gone, running out the door.
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Rating: PG
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Summary: Charles slips and calls Erik "my love".
Warnings: None!
Author's Notes: Written for the prompt here. This is a WIP and will eventually be finished
Charles' POV
Two men sit apart from each other, a chess set between them. Blue eyes stare in concentration at the man opposite, while the man opposite concentrates on the board.
With a flick of his wrist, grey eyes crinkle as a smirk reaches across his face.
He says to blue: "You really do need to pay attention, I believe that was check."
Blue eyes close as a chuckle erupts. He looks down at the board, and smiles softly.
"You know that doesn't mean much to me, my love."
Blue eyes widen and hands go to cover his mouth and increasingly red cheeks.
Oh dear gods, what have I done?
Grey eyes stare blue down.
"Is this some kind of joke Charles?" the last word spoken with such venom and spite.
Grey eyes glowering.
Hands drop from face to a lap. Blue eyes focus down at them, holding back tears. One wrong move and...
"I...Erik, you should let me explain."
It was only a mistake. A slip up. I know you're not queer, gods I know you're not...
Grey leans back in his chair, arms crossed at the chest.
"Well? I'm waiting."
And blues eyes can barely meet the grey in that moment, but he tries anyway.
"You see, my friend," The words being forced from his mouth. "It's a British tradition to..." The lie dying on his lips.
Blue eyes stand up, turning to gaze into grey.
Well, if I'm going to loose a friend, I might as well...
Takes the few steps to close the distance between him and the other man, and takes his face in his hands. Grey eyes constrict and muscle tense under the touch. tries to pull away and can't. Feels the sudden touch of chapped lips on his own.
As soon as it was registered, blue eyes are pulled far away and the man walked-no ran- to the door.
Grey eyes was left with the sound of a door slamming shut.
Erik's POV
"-mean that much to me, my love."
Erik looks up, watches as Charles turns red and covers his mouth. And all Erik can really think is WHAT. THE. FUCK.
"Is this some kind of joke, Charles?"
Because no, Erik think, he respects me enough not to read me. Would never...
Charles hands drop to his lap, he's focusing on them, avoiding everything and anythig that might resemble the man in front of him.
"I...Erik, you should let me explain."
Erik leans back, crosses his arms to his chest. Please tell me this is some kind of-I don't know, just. Fuck. There's a moment of silence and it's putting Erik on edge, the way Charles is fidgeting.
"Well? I'm waiting."
It comes out harsher than he means it to, and he realizes he really shouldn't have said anything at all, because now Charles is more flustered the before and can barley spare him a glance.
"You see, my friend," The emphasis on the last word doesn't go unheard. "it's a British tradition to..."
He stops, stares at Erik, and closes the distance between them. Erik tenses as he feels Charles' hands on his face. Tries to pull away but can't Feels the sudden touch of lips on his own.
And as soon as he realizes it, his mind telling him Wrap your fucking arms around him! Pull him in closer!, he's already gone, running out the door.