To Be Alone (With You): Chapter Three
Title: To Be Alone (With You): Chapter Three
Author: dizzycalm beta'd by the lovely Madneto
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: child abuse, alcoholism, teens in sexual situations, violence
Author's Note: This is a WIP and the first time I've written such a long fic. Hopefully each new chapter will be posted on either Wednesday or Thursdays each week.
Summary: Based on this prompt which I wrote and decided to take on myself.
AU set in modern time. Charles and Erik meet as kids. They grow up, discover their powers together, and eventually fall in love... though one is more opposed to the idea than the other. Erik wants what he can't have and Charles is terrified of being like his mother.
Chapter One, Chapter Two
Chapter Three
“It’s a big day tomorrow, isn’t it?” Erik’s voice greets Charles as he steps out of the bathroom that’s connected to his bedroom, towel busy drying his hair from the shower. He can’t help but smile at the sound of Erik’s voice or the view that greets him. Erik’s long form is stretched out on his bed already in his pajamas which consists of an old Misfits t-shirt and soft light blue boxers. Charles’s pajamas are, of course, a blue silk matching set that cost the same as Erik’s electric bill, but they’re tad too small since they were given to him as a Christmas present two years prior (he doesn’t go clothes shopping often).
“Just one year older, Erik.” He throws the damp towel at Erik’s head and he doesn’t even bother to dodge, but simply laughs with the towel blocking his view. Charles takes the opportunity of a blinded Erik to jump on the bed causing their bodies to bump together. Erik tears the towel off his face to throw it on the floor before tackling Charles. “Easy!” Charles’s voice rises as they almost take a dive off the bed from Erik’s overexcited tackle.
Every year the day before one of their birthdays, they have a sleep over. That way when the clock strikes midnight they are together and can celebrate by themselves before Nina makes a big deal about it, spending all day singing to them and cooking. This year, though, Charles’s birthday falls on a Friday and his mother has decided to throw an early dinner since Kurt and Cain are coming home for the weekend. Charles would much rather spend it when Nina’s fussing, but he can’t say no to Sharon.
“I won’t be able to call you, young man, anymore!” Erik cries out his exaggerated dismay before burying his face in Charles’s stomach, hands coming up to tickle at his sides mercilessly. Charles flops around like a fish on dry land, trying hard not to laugh. His shirt where Erik’s head is still buried lifts a little showing skin, so Erik takes the opportunity to blow messy raspberries wherever possible. Finally Charles erupts in breathless laughter. Erik loves the moments when he can tickle Charles into a fit of hysteria. It helps Charles let go of stress and Erik would never complain of being able to touch his friend in places where he wouldn’t normally be allowed to. He hopes that one day he’ll be able to touch and caress Charles without the pretense of it being a joke.
The giggles Erik’s raspberries excite fill the quiet upstairs. The mansion only hears happiness like this when Erik and Charles are there. “God, he’s so beautiful.” Charles doesn’t mean to hear Erik’s private thoughts, but he can’t control it and Erik thinks so loudly it’s almost as if he wants Charles to hear.
Sometimes it’s an uncomplicated, “I need to pee,” or a quiet, “I woke up alone again this morning, why does he leave?” Erik won’t guard his thoughts now: that day on the deck by the lake has shown him Charles isn’t completely appalled by him and secretly he wants his friend to listen in. Charles more often than not pretends he doesn’t hear.
Charles knows they can no longer fall asleep like they used to, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms and legs, face buried in Erik’s shoulder, and Erik’s fingers drawing pictures on his back. They are getting older and Erik’s feelings are already damaged by Charles’s need to distance himself. He doesn’t stay over as often or even the whole night anymore.
He wants Erik to have the family he so craves and Charles is just a distraction from that. They are best friends, will remain best friends probably their whole lives, but that’s all they will ever be. Nothing more. Sleeping in each other’s beds, cuddling during the daytime, spending all their free time together, that all seemed okay when they were younger, but Charles will be fifteen tomorrow and Erik is already a few months older. It’s time for them to grow out of those old childish habits.
Erik’s hands come up to Charles’s side to pull his top higher up so he can blow more raspberries. Charles’s writhing body tries to buck him off, his arms pushing helplessly at Erik’s head, fingers pulling in his hair, but to no avail. Charles’s face is flushed, and his laughter is so boisterous that breathing has become difficult.
“I can’t breathe!” He cries out hoarsely before falling back into a giggling fit that shakes the whole bed. Erik’s actions slow down along with Charles’s giggles. His actions still before becoming gentler; instead of blowing raspberries Erik’s open mouth lingers on his stomach and slides across Charles’s slightly damp chest. Charles isn’t laughing anymore, but inhaling and exhaling sharply. Erik’s lips ghost over Charles’s flat sternum and down to the top of his belly button, they circle around slowly until Charles feels them press down into a kiss. They both let out a deep moan at the same time, the vibration from Erik’s mouth causing goose bumps to rise on his skin.
Erik’s torso is cradled by Charles’s legs so he feels Charles’s arousal building against him. His kisses rain down on the pale skin below him, the fingers that were once pulling his head away are now keeping him in place, and the mewling sounds filling his ears make him bolder. Instead of chaste kisses he opens his mouth slightly and licks at a rib only visible when Charles inhales sharply.
“Erik, stop!” Charles jerks his whole body roughly to the side to successfully dislodge Erik. The command is fiercely spoken, but with a desperate edge to it as if talking to himself and Erik.
“I’m sorry.” Erik doesn’t know what else to say as he stares at Charles who is straightening his clothes, still turned away. They are both panting, trying to catch their breath. Erik’s trying to force his uncomfortable erection down and by Charles’s rigid posture he’s doing the same. He doesn’t understand why Charles stopped him, but he feels stupid and his heart hurts.
“We can’t do that.” Charles sounds to be on the verge of tears, causing Erik to receive another painful shot to his chest knowing he did that to his best friend; his erection immediately disappears.
“Oh god, please don’t be mad. Please don’t be mad.” Charles chokes back a sob when he hears Erik’s desperate thoughts.
“I’m not mad.” He wants to put Erik’s mind at rest and the thought of explaining exactly why they can’t continue down on that path would be the opposite. “We’re just too young. We shouldn’t be doing that. Remember what Nina said?”
Nina, as a fifteenth birthday rite, had given the birds and the bees’ speech rather painfully to Erik on his own big day. Charles was present at the time as he seemed to always be. The two boys thought they were sitting at the small kitchen table waiting for Erik’s birthday cake, but Nina had nervously sat down with something stuffed into her apron and grabbed Erik’s arm dramatically.
“Erik, you’re fifteen now. I know there are lots of hormones and stuff like that running through your body.” Erik tried to unsuccessfully talk her out of discussing what was now apparently the worse speech imaginable for any young teen to hear. Charles just chuckled and kicked him under the table. Nina let out a huff before continuing on. “Let me finish, I’ve read it in a book! Just don’t have sex… yet. You are too young and it only complicates things in your life. It’ll make enemies out of friends. Wait until you’re older and more mature, okay Liebling?” Erik’s only response was to nod with his mouth hanging open. “Please tell me you understand so I don’t have to explain what sex is or what it means.”
Nina reaches in her apron and brings out a book titled, “Sex: What It Is and What It Means” in her hands. Charles’s guffaw breaks the awkward silence where Erik was just staring at the book and Nina sweating impatiently. Charles tried covering his mouth with his hand quickly, but Nina’s gaze moved to him.
“Same goes for you, Charlie boy. I’ll be keeping an eye on you two lads.” Charles’s mind immediately rushes to the myriad times when they cuddle up on the bed in Erik’s room or sit a little too closely on the living room floor watching television. “If I see a girl hanging off either of you… all hell will break loose!”
Nina had told them sex would complicate their lives, but frankly Erik didn’t care. Obviously Charles did though, so Erik would wait.
“I understand, I’m sorry.” Erik says it a little too quickly, but Charles turns towards him to see how honest he looks.
“You don’t have to apologize.” Charles tries to smile and fails rather horribly; he looks tired and worn out. Erik nods silently not really understanding. “Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” Erik doesn’t fight him on that; he rolls over to face the wall with his knees brought up, an open invitation. Charles feels if he put his back to Erik, it would break something rather fragile between them, and though Charles knows he should, he just doesn’t want that delicate connection between them to snap just yet. So instead of facing away, Charles wraps his arms around Erik’s middle loosely, spooning his back, with his breath heating up Erik’s neck.
“Happy birthday, Charles.” His voice is quiet as if not to disturb the peace between them.
“It’s not midnight yet, old man.” Charles tries to lighten the mood by head-butting the back of Erik lightly.
“Then wake me up at midnight and I’ll tell you again.” Erik’s smile is evident in his voice, thankful for Charles’s humor.
Two hours later the clock on the wall strikes midnight silently and Charles presses a soft kiss on the back of Erik’s neck. He doesn’t wake.
For Charles’s birthday, Sharon forces him to stay in the house and not, “Run off by yourself all the time.” If he reminded her of Erik, she’d just get more upset about him spending more time with a boy that’s practically a stranger instead of his own step-brother, so he and Erik have made plans to meet at the hideout after the dinner at seven o’clock. Now, Charles is wearing an uncomfortably tight suit, waiting for the cooks hired especially for that day to finish dinner and for Kurt and Cain to show up. They were supposed to get home at noon. He can already tell it’s going to be awful from how much alcohol Sharon has imbibed.
Erik had made a special gift for Charles’s birthday. His friend is always encouraging him to use his powers more and practice, so Erik has made Charles a necklace with his abilities. It took him all day to take a small sliver of silver and force it to bend gently again and again into a small spiral, and another hour to fuse it to a small chain.
Afterwards, Erik had a headache he felt would never go away, and Charles kept asking him where he’d been. They’ve never spent so long apart without checking in, which is why Erik is worried at 8:30 and there is still no sign of Charles coming through the trees. He keeps walking to the edge of the woods to see the mansion, almost as if to make sure it was still standing, before turning back around to the hideout. Charles told him to wait for him and so he’ll wait. It’s after ten o’clock before Erik hears the familiar crunching of branches getting closer. He can’t make out Charles’s face since he’s walking hunched over, holding his ribs.
“What took you so long?” Erik doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so angry, but it does anyways. It’s brighter in the hideout though, and after the words are out of his mouth he finally sees what Charles has been trying to hide. It looks like Charles tried to hastily scrub his face clean, but Erik can still see clearly the dried blood on his mouth, the darkening eye, the washed cut cheek that’s still slightly bleeding, and Charles is holding his ribs as if they pain him.
White hot anger shoots through Erik causing the flimsy metal roofing to bend upwards violently and crash back down loudly. Charles flinches away from the sound and finally looks up from where he was staring at his feet to meet Erik’s wild eyes.
“Cain?” Erik knows its Cain’s doing, because Kurt is precise when he hits to cause minimum amount of blood (he doesn’t like it on his suits). Charles’s face is a mess of uncontrolled fists and rage from Cain, who hasn’t learned restraint just yet.
The metal hinges pull the hideout’s door completely off the small building as Erik shoves it open.
“Erik, please! Where are you going?” Charles tries to grab Erik’s arm to halt his steps. “Calm your mind, my friend.” All Charles can read off the surface of Erik’s mind is anger and fury; he wants to destroy Cain.
“We are better than them, Charles! When are you going to stand up for yourself and show them you aren’t to be pushed around? If you won’t then I will.” Charles’s watch clad wrist is pulled from Erik’s arm by an invisible force.
“They’ll be gone by Monday… and Sharon.” Erik cuts him off by turning around abruptly.
“Sharon doesn’t give a fuck about you, Charles.” The truth is like a slap in the face, but Erik has to make Charles understand. “I do though. I care more about you than your own mother and I won’t let them tear you apart.” Erik’s hands cradle Charles’s face gently, keeping away from the bruises. “I won’t let them hurt you anymore.”
“Erik, please don’t do this.” It’s clear due to the crushed expression on Erik’s face that that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. There’s a slight tug on Charles’s belt and then suddenly he’s being pulled backwards into the hideout. The belt refuses to allow him to sit up from where he’s landed on the floor. He continues to yell as Erik walks away.
There is no reply and the necklace lays forgotten on the floor.
It takes Erik under five minutes to find Cain in Charles’s father’s study, tearing out pages from journals. Cain is a massive boy with his father’s build (stocky, barrel chested, and with large beefy hands), a square jaw, and a shock of red hair on top. He doesn’t turn around when Erik enters the room until the lock is clicked shut behind him.
“The fuck do you want?” There isn’t a mark on Cain’s face; Charles didn’t even try to fight back.
“You did this to yourself.” Erik raises his hand, feeling his power flow out from him to the metal paper weight on the desk behind Cain.
“Did what?” Cain follows where Erik’s eyes are staring; the metal weight comes crashing into his face breaking his nose, spraying blood across the desk. Erik can feel the metal crush bone “My fucking nose!”
He doesn’t even have to concentrate to send the metal desk lamp smashing into the back of Cain’s head causing the boy to fall to his knees. Erik focuses on all the tiny metal objects scattered about the room; paperclips, thumbtacks, screws, and nails all fly through the air, bombarding Cain, cutting into his flesh, causing him to cry out.
“Erik, stop.” Charles’s voice is inside his head, but Erik keeps concentrating, making the metal cut a little more into Cain’s flesh; his cries get louder. “ENOUGH.”
Blood is dripping from the side of Cain’s face where a paperclip has sliced open his cheek.
“You will not hurt Charles again.” Erik brings the metal paperweight under Cain’s chin to force his head upwards, making eye contact. “If you or your father marks his skin again, I will be back.” The paperweight digs into the skin of his chin, straining Cain’s head towards the ceiling painfully. “Understood?”
“Yes, yes I understand.” The fear in Cain’s eyes lets Erik know just how well he comprehends. All the metal drops back down becoming inanimate once again. Erik leaves the room without another word. When he gets back to the hideout, Charles is gone, and his abilities are drained.
Kurt doesn’t believe Cain when his son tells him floating objects attacked him. He threatens his son if he ever tells anybody about whatever happened to him that night, he’ll find himself locked up in an insane asylum. When Charles comes home that night he runs into Cain in the hallway, the cuts (that should really be stitched, but Kurt refuses to take him to the hospital) and the many bruises only gives him a glimpse of what actually happened.
He feels betrayed that Erik would break the promise to never interfere with Kurt or Cain- he thought Erik understood that scaring Kurt away means losing his mother. In a different situation, Charles would have been proud of how strong Erik’s powers have become, but instead he was afraid for Cain and what Erik would do. He felt the pain from Cain as the metal dug into his skin, and the wrath that was oozing from Erik as he easily manipulated the objects to cause more damage. He could feel the pain from Cain, and the rage from Erik; what was actually said between Erik and Cain is still a mystery. Charles doesn’t know what Erik actually did and he doesn’t want to know.
Whatever was said and done scared Cain so badly that he had begged his father to never come back. Charles has never heard his step-brother beg for anything, he only demanded. This makes him worried for his mother and what will become of her since Kurt gave in to Cain and left earlier than was planned. Sharon was so upset she broke all the mirrors on the first floor, and screamed about how Kurt doesn’t want her anymore.
Charles remembers once when he had a rather nasty black eye and Erik had done everything he could to cheer him up. Erik had even brought out his “Camp German” impression which he hates doing, but knows Charles loves.
“Mein handy! Vhere ist mein handy?” Erik would cry out as he looked around his small room, Charles perched on his bed laughing. Nobody would have guessed that such a somber boy would be willing to be completely ridiculous just to place a smile on his best friend’s face. Erik is willing to do that and more to keep Charles happy. When that happiness is threatened another side of Erik shows, and his desire to destroy anything that might shatter Charles’s smile consumes him. His reactions show exactly how much he cares for his friend. This terrifies Charles.
The next afternoon Erik shows up on the deck where Charles has been sitting, thinking about what to do next. Charles feels Erik’s panicked mind before he sees his shadow moving around him.
“I wanted to give you this yesterday.” Erik dangles a necklace in Charles’s line of view. “Your birthday present.” He clarifies, his voice filled with nerves. Charles takes it gently, his thumb brushes over the silver spiral. “I made it myself.”
“It’s marvelous, Erik.” It truly is the most beautiful thing anybody has ever given to him, and he finds himself trying to hold back tears. Charles finds it hard to look at something so delicate and refined that Erik made himself when he saw not too long ago something so ugly and violent that Erik was also responsible for. He slips it over his head anyway as Erik sits down next to him.
“I won’t apologize for last night.” Erik breaks the awkward silence that was stretching between them.
“You should-” Charles isn’t able to finish the sentence before Erik interrupts.
“I won’t apologize, Charles.” Erik looks at him like he doesn’t understand, his voice firm and loud.
“You said we are better than them, but how does using violence to solve violence show anyone that we’re better?” Charles rushes to say it all before Erik has a chance to interrupt, wet eyes locked on each other.
“I did it out of love.” Erik’s honesty forces Charles to look away and a sob breaks free. He finds himself not able to contain the tears and broken sounds coming from his mouth. Love. Charles has never heard Erik even say that word to Nina, hasn’t heard that word directed towards himself for so long (if ever). He wants to cherish this moment, savor it, remember Erik’s voice for when things get too hard, lock it away safely, but instead he feels panicked. His chest aches painfully and the world seems to be spinning around him so he closes his eyes tightly, blocking it all out. Erik places his hand on Charles’s shoulder, thumb rubbing soothingly back and forth.
If Charles was raised differently, if he was brought up to believe that love will help you instead of break you, if Charles didn’t see the example of how love can destroy you completely like it did to his own mother, then maybe Charles could allow himself to not flinch away from Erik’s touch or be able to say it back. But Charles is broken and Erik loves too fiercely.
“I think we need some time apart, Erik.”
“I was trying to help and you punish me for it?” Charles can hear tears in Erik’s voice, and if he was weaker he’d jump up and tell him it was all a joke, please don’t look so sad. “How long was I supposed to watch you get beaten up?” Erik grabs Charles’s arm when he makes a move to stand. “You think too poorly of me.”
“Let go of my arm.” Erik would hold Charles if he could, but his powers are drained and he can only feel the slight tingle from the necklace around Charles’s neck. “You’re hurting me.” It’s a lie, but Erik immediately lets go. He watches as Charles stands and walks away to his house.
“Please don’t leave me alone.” Erik doesn’t raise his voice and Charles pretends not to hear him.
Charles stops speaking to Erik, because he doesn’t know what to say.
Two weeks later
Erik hasn’t been to Charles’s house or the hideout for two weeks. He cares about Charles deeply and would do anything for him (as he’s already proved), but he refuses to be the first to break about something he isn’t apologetic for; if anything he wishes he could have beaten Cain sooner. Erik wants Charles to come to him and let him know that he isn’t the only one feeling so broken down. Late at night, Erik does allow himself to concentrate and seek out the familiar hum of the necklace he had given Charles. Erik knows he wears it, because sometimes he can feel it pacing around the giant mansion after midnight.
Charles believes he is helping Erik by keeping away. The distance both physically and mentally kills him, and he knows how willful his friend can be. Erik won’t be the first to break. He knows Erik didn’t ask to love Charles and Charles is breaking his heart. He believes this heartache and pain is what he has to go through to survive life unlike his mother. He can’t spend all his life pining for somebody when he has so many goals he wants to achieve. Charles won’t waste away in a red parlor with alcohol as his only companion. After this heartbreak is over they can get back to being friends and only friends.
“This is your first fight? It seems a little dramatic to me.” Nina is once again making Erik cookies to try and cheer him up (for the third time this week). Erik won’t tell her what has caused this riff between them, but she thinks it has something to do with a girl. She keeps finding what appears to be love letters wadded up all over his floor. “Maybe you can get a job so you aren’t moping around all the time looking lovesick.”
“I’m not lovesick.” Erik’s voice sounds stronger than it has in weeks.
“Whatever you say, Liebling.” Her comment sends him into an even fouler mood and he spends the rest of the day out of the house, which is an improvement from following her around actually listening to her ramble about nonsense. She doesn’t think it’s healthy for a teenage boy to be so interested to what their crazy aunt has to say.
It’s late at night when Charles finally goes over to Erik’s house, but it isn’t in the circumstances Erik would have hoped. Instead of Charles telling him how sorry he is and how much he missed Erik, there are tears running down his eyes, he has a bloody nose, and is barefoot in his pajamas.
“Erik, you have to help me!” Charles startles Erik awake by crawling through his open window, falling on top of him.
“What’s wrong?” Erik immediately turns his lamp on to take in Charles’s disarray.
“I can’t control it anymore, Erik! You have to stop thinking. It’s all I can hear. They are all thinking at me and I can’t handle it.” Charles presses his hands to his ears as if that would stop all the thoughts bombarding his mind. He feels like his mind will explode if the voices just don’t quiet down. He woke up almost two hours ago hearing Sharon dreaming about having children that look like Kurt, Nina wondering if they have enough milk for breakfast, Erik having a nightmare involving fire and Charles, a girl thinking about her growling stomach, and the neighbor thinking about shooting a raccoon that keeps knocking over his trashcan. After the first few minutes of trying to calmly block everything out it only got worse and his range expanded to more people.
“Charles, you’re bleeding.” The tissue that Charles hastily stuffed up his nose is once again drenched in blood. Erik quickly gets up to get a wet towel from the small bathroom down the hall. “This will help.” He carefully cleans off the dried blood from his nose and upper lip.
“It hurts.” His voice comes out as a whimper. Erik doesn’t know what to do as he looks at his small friend rocking back and forth. “Nina is dreaming… Erik. I can’t control it! I can’t control it… make it stop. Everybody is thinking so loudly and it won’t stop. Please do something.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Erik puts his hands on either side of Charles’s face, and starts to rub soothing circles on his temples. They are sitting cross-legged on Erik’s too small bed facing each other. Charles’s pain is evident on his face, his incredibly blue eyes filled with tears.
“I know you don’t know what to do…” He trails off, squeezing his eyes shut to try and block everything out again. “Erik, please.”
The begging breaks something inside Erik and without thinking he leans in to press his mouth against Charles’s open lips, instead of pushing him away he clings to Erik. His cold fingers grab onto Erik’s neck, holding him in place.
“Don’t stop.” Charles means what he gasps out, because when Erik kissed him all the thoughts quieted down. They are still there, but they aren’t screaming at him for attention. He can feel the hum of Erik’s own thoughts and it calms him further. Charles doesn’t know it yet, but years from now whenever thoughts get a little too loud he’ll think back to this moment and all becomes clear again.
Charles’s tongue pushes at Erik’s lips, demanding entrance, causing him to gasp and wrap his arms around his friend’s smaller frame. Neither of them has kissed anyone else before, so it’s messy and a bit too rough, Charles’s fingers digging into Erik’s scalp, Erik’s teeth biting at Charles’s tongue.
“Oh god, he tastes like pennies and toothpaste. Best flavor in the world is his mouth.”
“It’s blood.” Charles gasps out, reading Erik’s mind. “You’re such a weirdo sometimes, Erik.” The happiness in his voice gives Erik confidence to run his hands down Charles’s back to grasp at his pajama clad buttocks, bringing Charles almost into his lap. “Easy, there.” Their previous position causes his leg to bend awkwardly to the side, so Charles wraps his legs around Erik’s middle to sit more comfortably. It doesn’t even cross his mind that they shouldn’t be doing this here or now or ever. Instead of thinking he simply latches his mouth back to Erik’s lips.
Their new position brings the realization to Erik that Charles is just as hard as he is and he can’t help but buck up while putting his hands on Charles’s shoulders to grind him down against his erection. Charles pulls his mouth away to cry out sharply; his pajama pants wet with precome, preventing him from obtaining the skin on skin contact he desperately craves.
Erik uses the opportunity to take in the sight of Charles in his lap, face more flushed than he’s ever seen him, hair sticking every which way thanks to Erik’s hands, lips red and swollen, and his hips are writhing about trying to get friction.
“Oh god, Erik.” Charles covers Erik’s eyes with his hand. “Don’t look at me. You’re thoughts are filthy.” Erik chuckles while bringing the fingers down to kiss and suck. “Bloody hell.” Charles suddenly pushes him back roughly to lay flat on the bed, hands working Erik’s string pajama bottoms down to expose his overheated erection to the cold air. Erik inhales sharply, watching Charles do the same to his own pajamas. He rocks himself forward until their naked cocks touch, they groan in unison. Erik’s hands shoot up to grab at Charles’s shoulder, bringing him down to lick open his mouth, diving his tongue in, while their lower bodies move together. Charles is grinding down while Erik is pushing up, their arms wrapped tightly together.
Charles can feel Erik’s orgasm rising from the base of his own spine, their thoughts woven so tightly together he can’t make out his own.
“So beautiful,” “Harder,” “Faster,” “More,” “Love you.”
Erik pulls his mouth away to bury his face in Charles’s neck to keep from falling apart as he comes in between their bodies. Charles is seconds after him crying out a little too loudly; biting his lip and pulling Erik’s hair roughly.
“Wow.” Charles is the first to break the silence after what seems like hours, their positions still the same. Erik hasn’t even complained about his weight crushing him or the sticky wetness between them; he is completely blissed-out. Charles’s mind still isn’t filled with loud thoughts, only a quiet hum of awareness for all the minds around him. He slowly extracts himself from Erik, trying to keep his eyes from staring at his exposed flesh, and goes to sit at the foot of the bed. Charles takes the soiled shirt off and bundles it in a ball.
“Thank you, my friend.” His chest hurts and strong feeling of wrongness settles over him. He shouldn’t have to deny what he wants, but it’s for the best. Charles tries to keep repeating in his mind that’s its better for both of them, that he isn’t being selfish. “I needed that; thought my head was going to explode.”
“No problem.” A self-deprecating laugh escapes Erik’s mouth. “If you ever need to use me again… I’m here.”
“I wasn’t trying to use you, Erik.” Charles realizes that’s exactly what it sounds and looks like, but he didn’t come to Erik for this. He never would have given Erik hope for something that can never be, and rutting against each other like animals has not only messed with Erik’s head, but with Charles as well. How is he supposed to distance himself now while still keeping Erik as a friend? He can’t picture himself in the future without Erik by his side… as his best friend. “But, I don’t think we should do that again.”
“You didn’t like it?” Desperation, heartbreak, failure, and rejection are coming off Erik’s mind in waves causing Charles to almost double over.
“I think it’s pretty obvious that I liked it.” Erik visibly relaxes and smiles shyly. Charles continues on even though he knows that smile will vanish. “But we shouldn’t do it again.” Erik’s jaw tightens; Charles can hear the thoughts running through his head, wanting to explain. “You have to understand that I have plans in life and I can’t…” He runs his hands through his hair trying to figure out how to make Erik understand. “I can’t turn into my mother.”
Instead of a look of understanding appearing on Erik’s face, he just looks more confused and angry.
“What are you talking about? You think I’ll drive you to drink?” Erik finally stands up to change his soiled clothes; his movements are quick and angry, like he wants to really shake Charles instead of the clothes in his hands.
“No, no… you don’t understand. Please just listen.” Charles grabs Erik’s arm to pull him back down after he puts on fresh boxers. “You’re my best friend, Erik.” He keeps eye contact trying to force him to listen. “I hope that never changes. Please remember that. I don’t want to lose your friendship.”
“You’ll always have me.” Erik takes Charles’s hand still resting on his arm to put it on over his chest, over his heart. “In all ways.”
“I should get home.” Charles forces himself to break the tension building between them. Erik goes to rummage around in his dressers for clothes that would fit him while Charles sits and thinks about what to do next.
Charles is wearing a pair of Erik’s old shorts, held up with kite string, and a cheesy Christmas sweater Erik forced upon him. His friend laughed so hard at him he was gasping for air when Charles pulled his head through the neck hole, hair flat on his forehead. He found it surprisingly easy to joke around with Erik after they were both dressed.
Erik also forced him to put on some of his old rain boots before he set off in the woods. Charles is thankful for that since the path to his home is paved in branches and sharp rocks. His feet are still sore from his early run through them.
He takes his time making his way towards the prison he calls home, for now anyways. Charles vows he’ll leave for college with Erik if possible, and it’ll become just a mansion again. His childhood home will become just a sad building with a mad woman inside and far too many unwanted memories. Charles won’t become another prisoner, always drunk, and waiting for Erik to return to him. He is at the edge of the woods when he hears the foreign tiny girlish voice thinking about his food in the refrigerator.
“Half of this stuff is going bad! If I lived here none of this food would be wasted. Moldy chocolate cake! What is wrong with these people?” Charles goes to run around the lake, but the rain boots hinder him causing him to trip and fall, bloodying his knee. He pulls himself up and winces at the tiny rocks he can feel that made their way underneath his skin; it doesn’t stop him, though, from walking quickly to find out who is inside his house.
“Ooooh turkey AND ham sandwich, this is gonna rock.” Charles can hear drawers opening and plates being moved around, he turns the corner expecting to see a small girl, not his mother.
“Who are you?” He demands walking into the room. Not-Sharon turns around panicked and quickly puts on a sickly sweet smile. She is wearing her fancy red dress, large pearls, and hair nicely done up. Charles hasn’t seen his mother in anything but black for the last five years.
“Darling!” Not-Sharon coos at him stepping forwards. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“What are you doing sober?” The question startles Not-Sharon; her eyes go big- it’s a look Charles hasn’t ever seen on his mother’s face. “Who are you? You aren’t my mother.”
“Of course I am, Sweetums.” Her walking is stilted like she hasn’t worn heels before or at least not five inches. “You look like you’ve hurt your knee… I’ll clean it for you, poor dear.”
“Who are you? My mother has never cared about my cuts unless I’m bleeding on the carpet.” Charles has never tried putting thoughts into somebody else’s head, but by Not-Sharon’s look of surprise followed by her raising her hands up to her temples he must have succeeded. “What have you done with my mother?”
Not-Sharon slowly starts morphing from the head down into what appears to be a girl with deep blue skin, scales, and slicked back red hair. She is also much shorter than Sharon and younger as well; probably younger than Charles himself. His face breaks into a large grin and the small blue girl looks confused at his happiness.
“You’re not… scared of me?” Her voice no longer sounds eerily like his mother’s, but small and scared.
“I knew Erik and I weren’t the only ones that were different!” He wants to run over and hug her, but that would probably scare her off. “I’m Charles Xavier.” He holds out his hand for the small girl who slowly shakes it.
“Raven.” The massive sandwich she was in the middle of making sits on the counter behind her untouched.
“Go ahead and eat, Raven. You don’t have to feel scared anymore… or hungry. You’ll never have to steal again!” They sit at the island in the kitchen, Charles watching her eat, and talking about their lives for what seems like hours. Raven is twelve and has been by herself since her foster parents found out about her blue form. She was too young to control being transformed into a “normal” looking young girl for such long periods of time without slipping up, showing off her blue skin, or suddenly sporting strangely yellow eyes. Her foster sister at the time was always around to see these little slip-ups, but her foster parents only thought she just didn’t like Raven. Sadly a few days later at the dinner table they all sat stunned at the newly blue creature sitting, eating their pot roast.
She realized at a very young age to morph into other toddlers unless she wanted to go hungry. Nobody at the orphanage wanted to hold a blue, scaly baby. Charles promises that not only will she never go hungry again, but she has found a place where she belongs. He can’t wait to introduce her to Erik. Raven could tell by how animated Charles became, constantly smiling widely with sometimes a dazed look in his eyes and sometimes biting his lip in concentration, when he told her of Erik. That he was really important, funny, amazing, fantastic, powerful… she couldn’t wait to meet him.
“It’s us against the world!” She exclaimed excitedly thinking about the three of them forming a super group better than everybody else. Charles didn’t want to be against the world, but let Raven rejoice and knew Erik would like her just as much as he does.
To Be Continued...
Author: dizzycalm beta'd by the lovely Madneto
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: child abuse, alcoholism, teens in sexual situations, violence
Author's Note: This is a WIP and the first time I've written such a long fic. Hopefully each new chapter will be posted on either Wednesday or Thursdays each week.
Summary: Based on this prompt which I wrote and decided to take on myself.
AU set in modern time. Charles and Erik meet as kids. They grow up, discover their powers together, and eventually fall in love... though one is more opposed to the idea than the other. Erik wants what he can't have and Charles is terrified of being like his mother.
Chapter One, Chapter Two
Chapter Three
“It’s a big day tomorrow, isn’t it?” Erik’s voice greets Charles as he steps out of the bathroom that’s connected to his bedroom, towel busy drying his hair from the shower. He can’t help but smile at the sound of Erik’s voice or the view that greets him. Erik’s long form is stretched out on his bed already in his pajamas which consists of an old Misfits t-shirt and soft light blue boxers. Charles’s pajamas are, of course, a blue silk matching set that cost the same as Erik’s electric bill, but they’re tad too small since they were given to him as a Christmas present two years prior (he doesn’t go clothes shopping often).
“Just one year older, Erik.” He throws the damp towel at Erik’s head and he doesn’t even bother to dodge, but simply laughs with the towel blocking his view. Charles takes the opportunity of a blinded Erik to jump on the bed causing their bodies to bump together. Erik tears the towel off his face to throw it on the floor before tackling Charles. “Easy!” Charles’s voice rises as they almost take a dive off the bed from Erik’s overexcited tackle.
Every year the day before one of their birthdays, they have a sleep over. That way when the clock strikes midnight they are together and can celebrate by themselves before Nina makes a big deal about it, spending all day singing to them and cooking. This year, though, Charles’s birthday falls on a Friday and his mother has decided to throw an early dinner since Kurt and Cain are coming home for the weekend. Charles would much rather spend it when Nina’s fussing, but he can’t say no to Sharon.
“I won’t be able to call you, young man, anymore!” Erik cries out his exaggerated dismay before burying his face in Charles’s stomach, hands coming up to tickle at his sides mercilessly. Charles flops around like a fish on dry land, trying hard not to laugh. His shirt where Erik’s head is still buried lifts a little showing skin, so Erik takes the opportunity to blow messy raspberries wherever possible. Finally Charles erupts in breathless laughter. Erik loves the moments when he can tickle Charles into a fit of hysteria. It helps Charles let go of stress and Erik would never complain of being able to touch his friend in places where he wouldn’t normally be allowed to. He hopes that one day he’ll be able to touch and caress Charles without the pretense of it being a joke.
The giggles Erik’s raspberries excite fill the quiet upstairs. The mansion only hears happiness like this when Erik and Charles are there. “God, he’s so beautiful.” Charles doesn’t mean to hear Erik’s private thoughts, but he can’t control it and Erik thinks so loudly it’s almost as if he wants Charles to hear.
Sometimes it’s an uncomplicated, “I need to pee,” or a quiet, “I woke up alone again this morning, why does he leave?” Erik won’t guard his thoughts now: that day on the deck by the lake has shown him Charles isn’t completely appalled by him and secretly he wants his friend to listen in. Charles more often than not pretends he doesn’t hear.
Charles knows they can no longer fall asleep like they used to, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms and legs, face buried in Erik’s shoulder, and Erik’s fingers drawing pictures on his back. They are getting older and Erik’s feelings are already damaged by Charles’s need to distance himself. He doesn’t stay over as often or even the whole night anymore.
He wants Erik to have the family he so craves and Charles is just a distraction from that. They are best friends, will remain best friends probably their whole lives, but that’s all they will ever be. Nothing more. Sleeping in each other’s beds, cuddling during the daytime, spending all their free time together, that all seemed okay when they were younger, but Charles will be fifteen tomorrow and Erik is already a few months older. It’s time for them to grow out of those old childish habits.
Erik’s hands come up to Charles’s side to pull his top higher up so he can blow more raspberries. Charles’s writhing body tries to buck him off, his arms pushing helplessly at Erik’s head, fingers pulling in his hair, but to no avail. Charles’s face is flushed, and his laughter is so boisterous that breathing has become difficult.
“I can’t breathe!” He cries out hoarsely before falling back into a giggling fit that shakes the whole bed. Erik’s actions slow down along with Charles’s giggles. His actions still before becoming gentler; instead of blowing raspberries Erik’s open mouth lingers on his stomach and slides across Charles’s slightly damp chest. Charles isn’t laughing anymore, but inhaling and exhaling sharply. Erik’s lips ghost over Charles’s flat sternum and down to the top of his belly button, they circle around slowly until Charles feels them press down into a kiss. They both let out a deep moan at the same time, the vibration from Erik’s mouth causing goose bumps to rise on his skin.
Erik’s torso is cradled by Charles’s legs so he feels Charles’s arousal building against him. His kisses rain down on the pale skin below him, the fingers that were once pulling his head away are now keeping him in place, and the mewling sounds filling his ears make him bolder. Instead of chaste kisses he opens his mouth slightly and licks at a rib only visible when Charles inhales sharply.
“Erik, stop!” Charles jerks his whole body roughly to the side to successfully dislodge Erik. The command is fiercely spoken, but with a desperate edge to it as if talking to himself and Erik.
“I’m sorry.” Erik doesn’t know what else to say as he stares at Charles who is straightening his clothes, still turned away. They are both panting, trying to catch their breath. Erik’s trying to force his uncomfortable erection down and by Charles’s rigid posture he’s doing the same. He doesn’t understand why Charles stopped him, but he feels stupid and his heart hurts.
“We can’t do that.” Charles sounds to be on the verge of tears, causing Erik to receive another painful shot to his chest knowing he did that to his best friend; his erection immediately disappears.
“Oh god, please don’t be mad. Please don’t be mad.” Charles chokes back a sob when he hears Erik’s desperate thoughts.
“I’m not mad.” He wants to put Erik’s mind at rest and the thought of explaining exactly why they can’t continue down on that path would be the opposite. “We’re just too young. We shouldn’t be doing that. Remember what Nina said?”
Nina, as a fifteenth birthday rite, had given the birds and the bees’ speech rather painfully to Erik on his own big day. Charles was present at the time as he seemed to always be. The two boys thought they were sitting at the small kitchen table waiting for Erik’s birthday cake, but Nina had nervously sat down with something stuffed into her apron and grabbed Erik’s arm dramatically.
“Erik, you’re fifteen now. I know there are lots of hormones and stuff like that running through your body.” Erik tried to unsuccessfully talk her out of discussing what was now apparently the worse speech imaginable for any young teen to hear. Charles just chuckled and kicked him under the table. Nina let out a huff before continuing on. “Let me finish, I’ve read it in a book! Just don’t have sex… yet. You are too young and it only complicates things in your life. It’ll make enemies out of friends. Wait until you’re older and more mature, okay Liebling?” Erik’s only response was to nod with his mouth hanging open. “Please tell me you understand so I don’t have to explain what sex is or what it means.”
Nina reaches in her apron and brings out a book titled, “Sex: What It Is and What It Means” in her hands. Charles’s guffaw breaks the awkward silence where Erik was just staring at the book and Nina sweating impatiently. Charles tried covering his mouth with his hand quickly, but Nina’s gaze moved to him.
“Same goes for you, Charlie boy. I’ll be keeping an eye on you two lads.” Charles’s mind immediately rushes to the myriad times when they cuddle up on the bed in Erik’s room or sit a little too closely on the living room floor watching television. “If I see a girl hanging off either of you… all hell will break loose!”
Nina had told them sex would complicate their lives, but frankly Erik didn’t care. Obviously Charles did though, so Erik would wait.
“I understand, I’m sorry.” Erik says it a little too quickly, but Charles turns towards him to see how honest he looks.
“You don’t have to apologize.” Charles tries to smile and fails rather horribly; he looks tired and worn out. Erik nods silently not really understanding. “Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” Erik doesn’t fight him on that; he rolls over to face the wall with his knees brought up, an open invitation. Charles feels if he put his back to Erik, it would break something rather fragile between them, and though Charles knows he should, he just doesn’t want that delicate connection between them to snap just yet. So instead of facing away, Charles wraps his arms around Erik’s middle loosely, spooning his back, with his breath heating up Erik’s neck.
“Happy birthday, Charles.” His voice is quiet as if not to disturb the peace between them.
“It’s not midnight yet, old man.” Charles tries to lighten the mood by head-butting the back of Erik lightly.
“Then wake me up at midnight and I’ll tell you again.” Erik’s smile is evident in his voice, thankful for Charles’s humor.
Two hours later the clock on the wall strikes midnight silently and Charles presses a soft kiss on the back of Erik’s neck. He doesn’t wake.
For Charles’s birthday, Sharon forces him to stay in the house and not, “Run off by yourself all the time.” If he reminded her of Erik, she’d just get more upset about him spending more time with a boy that’s practically a stranger instead of his own step-brother, so he and Erik have made plans to meet at the hideout after the dinner at seven o’clock. Now, Charles is wearing an uncomfortably tight suit, waiting for the cooks hired especially for that day to finish dinner and for Kurt and Cain to show up. They were supposed to get home at noon. He can already tell it’s going to be awful from how much alcohol Sharon has imbibed.
Erik had made a special gift for Charles’s birthday. His friend is always encouraging him to use his powers more and practice, so Erik has made Charles a necklace with his abilities. It took him all day to take a small sliver of silver and force it to bend gently again and again into a small spiral, and another hour to fuse it to a small chain.
Afterwards, Erik had a headache he felt would never go away, and Charles kept asking him where he’d been. They’ve never spent so long apart without checking in, which is why Erik is worried at 8:30 and there is still no sign of Charles coming through the trees. He keeps walking to the edge of the woods to see the mansion, almost as if to make sure it was still standing, before turning back around to the hideout. Charles told him to wait for him and so he’ll wait. It’s after ten o’clock before Erik hears the familiar crunching of branches getting closer. He can’t make out Charles’s face since he’s walking hunched over, holding his ribs.
“What took you so long?” Erik doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so angry, but it does anyways. It’s brighter in the hideout though, and after the words are out of his mouth he finally sees what Charles has been trying to hide. It looks like Charles tried to hastily scrub his face clean, but Erik can still see clearly the dried blood on his mouth, the darkening eye, the washed cut cheek that’s still slightly bleeding, and Charles is holding his ribs as if they pain him.
White hot anger shoots through Erik causing the flimsy metal roofing to bend upwards violently and crash back down loudly. Charles flinches away from the sound and finally looks up from where he was staring at his feet to meet Erik’s wild eyes.
“Cain?” Erik knows its Cain’s doing, because Kurt is precise when he hits to cause minimum amount of blood (he doesn’t like it on his suits). Charles’s face is a mess of uncontrolled fists and rage from Cain, who hasn’t learned restraint just yet.
The metal hinges pull the hideout’s door completely off the small building as Erik shoves it open.
“Erik, please! Where are you going?” Charles tries to grab Erik’s arm to halt his steps. “Calm your mind, my friend.” All Charles can read off the surface of Erik’s mind is anger and fury; he wants to destroy Cain.
“We are better than them, Charles! When are you going to stand up for yourself and show them you aren’t to be pushed around? If you won’t then I will.” Charles’s watch clad wrist is pulled from Erik’s arm by an invisible force.
“They’ll be gone by Monday… and Sharon.” Erik cuts him off by turning around abruptly.
“Sharon doesn’t give a fuck about you, Charles.” The truth is like a slap in the face, but Erik has to make Charles understand. “I do though. I care more about you than your own mother and I won’t let them tear you apart.” Erik’s hands cradle Charles’s face gently, keeping away from the bruises. “I won’t let them hurt you anymore.”
“Erik, please don’t do this.” It’s clear due to the crushed expression on Erik’s face that that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. There’s a slight tug on Charles’s belt and then suddenly he’s being pulled backwards into the hideout. The belt refuses to allow him to sit up from where he’s landed on the floor. He continues to yell as Erik walks away.
There is no reply and the necklace lays forgotten on the floor.
It takes Erik under five minutes to find Cain in Charles’s father’s study, tearing out pages from journals. Cain is a massive boy with his father’s build (stocky, barrel chested, and with large beefy hands), a square jaw, and a shock of red hair on top. He doesn’t turn around when Erik enters the room until the lock is clicked shut behind him.
“The fuck do you want?” There isn’t a mark on Cain’s face; Charles didn’t even try to fight back.
“You did this to yourself.” Erik raises his hand, feeling his power flow out from him to the metal paper weight on the desk behind Cain.
“Did what?” Cain follows where Erik’s eyes are staring; the metal weight comes crashing into his face breaking his nose, spraying blood across the desk. Erik can feel the metal crush bone “My fucking nose!”
He doesn’t even have to concentrate to send the metal desk lamp smashing into the back of Cain’s head causing the boy to fall to his knees. Erik focuses on all the tiny metal objects scattered about the room; paperclips, thumbtacks, screws, and nails all fly through the air, bombarding Cain, cutting into his flesh, causing him to cry out.
“Erik, stop.” Charles’s voice is inside his head, but Erik keeps concentrating, making the metal cut a little more into Cain’s flesh; his cries get louder. “ENOUGH.”
Blood is dripping from the side of Cain’s face where a paperclip has sliced open his cheek.
“You will not hurt Charles again.” Erik brings the metal paperweight under Cain’s chin to force his head upwards, making eye contact. “If you or your father marks his skin again, I will be back.” The paperweight digs into the skin of his chin, straining Cain’s head towards the ceiling painfully. “Understood?”
“Yes, yes I understand.” The fear in Cain’s eyes lets Erik know just how well he comprehends. All the metal drops back down becoming inanimate once again. Erik leaves the room without another word. When he gets back to the hideout, Charles is gone, and his abilities are drained.
Kurt doesn’t believe Cain when his son tells him floating objects attacked him. He threatens his son if he ever tells anybody about whatever happened to him that night, he’ll find himself locked up in an insane asylum. When Charles comes home that night he runs into Cain in the hallway, the cuts (that should really be stitched, but Kurt refuses to take him to the hospital) and the many bruises only gives him a glimpse of what actually happened.
He feels betrayed that Erik would break the promise to never interfere with Kurt or Cain- he thought Erik understood that scaring Kurt away means losing his mother. In a different situation, Charles would have been proud of how strong Erik’s powers have become, but instead he was afraid for Cain and what Erik would do. He felt the pain from Cain as the metal dug into his skin, and the wrath that was oozing from Erik as he easily manipulated the objects to cause more damage. He could feel the pain from Cain, and the rage from Erik; what was actually said between Erik and Cain is still a mystery. Charles doesn’t know what Erik actually did and he doesn’t want to know.
Whatever was said and done scared Cain so badly that he had begged his father to never come back. Charles has never heard his step-brother beg for anything, he only demanded. This makes him worried for his mother and what will become of her since Kurt gave in to Cain and left earlier than was planned. Sharon was so upset she broke all the mirrors on the first floor, and screamed about how Kurt doesn’t want her anymore.
Charles remembers once when he had a rather nasty black eye and Erik had done everything he could to cheer him up. Erik had even brought out his “Camp German” impression which he hates doing, but knows Charles loves.
“Mein handy! Vhere ist mein handy?” Erik would cry out as he looked around his small room, Charles perched on his bed laughing. Nobody would have guessed that such a somber boy would be willing to be completely ridiculous just to place a smile on his best friend’s face. Erik is willing to do that and more to keep Charles happy. When that happiness is threatened another side of Erik shows, and his desire to destroy anything that might shatter Charles’s smile consumes him. His reactions show exactly how much he cares for his friend. This terrifies Charles.
The next afternoon Erik shows up on the deck where Charles has been sitting, thinking about what to do next. Charles feels Erik’s panicked mind before he sees his shadow moving around him.
“I wanted to give you this yesterday.” Erik dangles a necklace in Charles’s line of view. “Your birthday present.” He clarifies, his voice filled with nerves. Charles takes it gently, his thumb brushes over the silver spiral. “I made it myself.”
“It’s marvelous, Erik.” It truly is the most beautiful thing anybody has ever given to him, and he finds himself trying to hold back tears. Charles finds it hard to look at something so delicate and refined that Erik made himself when he saw not too long ago something so ugly and violent that Erik was also responsible for. He slips it over his head anyway as Erik sits down next to him.
“I won’t apologize for last night.” Erik breaks the awkward silence that was stretching between them.
“You should-” Charles isn’t able to finish the sentence before Erik interrupts.
“I won’t apologize, Charles.” Erik looks at him like he doesn’t understand, his voice firm and loud.
“You said we are better than them, but how does using violence to solve violence show anyone that we’re better?” Charles rushes to say it all before Erik has a chance to interrupt, wet eyes locked on each other.
“I did it out of love.” Erik’s honesty forces Charles to look away and a sob breaks free. He finds himself not able to contain the tears and broken sounds coming from his mouth. Love. Charles has never heard Erik even say that word to Nina, hasn’t heard that word directed towards himself for so long (if ever). He wants to cherish this moment, savor it, remember Erik’s voice for when things get too hard, lock it away safely, but instead he feels panicked. His chest aches painfully and the world seems to be spinning around him so he closes his eyes tightly, blocking it all out. Erik places his hand on Charles’s shoulder, thumb rubbing soothingly back and forth.
If Charles was raised differently, if he was brought up to believe that love will help you instead of break you, if Charles didn’t see the example of how love can destroy you completely like it did to his own mother, then maybe Charles could allow himself to not flinch away from Erik’s touch or be able to say it back. But Charles is broken and Erik loves too fiercely.
“I think we need some time apart, Erik.”
“I was trying to help and you punish me for it?” Charles can hear tears in Erik’s voice, and if he was weaker he’d jump up and tell him it was all a joke, please don’t look so sad. “How long was I supposed to watch you get beaten up?” Erik grabs Charles’s arm when he makes a move to stand. “You think too poorly of me.”
“Let go of my arm.” Erik would hold Charles if he could, but his powers are drained and he can only feel the slight tingle from the necklace around Charles’s neck. “You’re hurting me.” It’s a lie, but Erik immediately lets go. He watches as Charles stands and walks away to his house.
“Please don’t leave me alone.” Erik doesn’t raise his voice and Charles pretends not to hear him.
Charles stops speaking to Erik, because he doesn’t know what to say.
Two weeks later
Erik hasn’t been to Charles’s house or the hideout for two weeks. He cares about Charles deeply and would do anything for him (as he’s already proved), but he refuses to be the first to break about something he isn’t apologetic for; if anything he wishes he could have beaten Cain sooner. Erik wants Charles to come to him and let him know that he isn’t the only one feeling so broken down. Late at night, Erik does allow himself to concentrate and seek out the familiar hum of the necklace he had given Charles. Erik knows he wears it, because sometimes he can feel it pacing around the giant mansion after midnight.
Charles believes he is helping Erik by keeping away. The distance both physically and mentally kills him, and he knows how willful his friend can be. Erik won’t be the first to break. He knows Erik didn’t ask to love Charles and Charles is breaking his heart. He believes this heartache and pain is what he has to go through to survive life unlike his mother. He can’t spend all his life pining for somebody when he has so many goals he wants to achieve. Charles won’t waste away in a red parlor with alcohol as his only companion. After this heartbreak is over they can get back to being friends and only friends.
“This is your first fight? It seems a little dramatic to me.” Nina is once again making Erik cookies to try and cheer him up (for the third time this week). Erik won’t tell her what has caused this riff between them, but she thinks it has something to do with a girl. She keeps finding what appears to be love letters wadded up all over his floor. “Maybe you can get a job so you aren’t moping around all the time looking lovesick.”
“I’m not lovesick.” Erik’s voice sounds stronger than it has in weeks.
“Whatever you say, Liebling.” Her comment sends him into an even fouler mood and he spends the rest of the day out of the house, which is an improvement from following her around actually listening to her ramble about nonsense. She doesn’t think it’s healthy for a teenage boy to be so interested to what their crazy aunt has to say.
It’s late at night when Charles finally goes over to Erik’s house, but it isn’t in the circumstances Erik would have hoped. Instead of Charles telling him how sorry he is and how much he missed Erik, there are tears running down his eyes, he has a bloody nose, and is barefoot in his pajamas.
“Erik, you have to help me!” Charles startles Erik awake by crawling through his open window, falling on top of him.
“What’s wrong?” Erik immediately turns his lamp on to take in Charles’s disarray.
“I can’t control it anymore, Erik! You have to stop thinking. It’s all I can hear. They are all thinking at me and I can’t handle it.” Charles presses his hands to his ears as if that would stop all the thoughts bombarding his mind. He feels like his mind will explode if the voices just don’t quiet down. He woke up almost two hours ago hearing Sharon dreaming about having children that look like Kurt, Nina wondering if they have enough milk for breakfast, Erik having a nightmare involving fire and Charles, a girl thinking about her growling stomach, and the neighbor thinking about shooting a raccoon that keeps knocking over his trashcan. After the first few minutes of trying to calmly block everything out it only got worse and his range expanded to more people.
“Charles, you’re bleeding.” The tissue that Charles hastily stuffed up his nose is once again drenched in blood. Erik quickly gets up to get a wet towel from the small bathroom down the hall. “This will help.” He carefully cleans off the dried blood from his nose and upper lip.
“It hurts.” His voice comes out as a whimper. Erik doesn’t know what to do as he looks at his small friend rocking back and forth. “Nina is dreaming… Erik. I can’t control it! I can’t control it… make it stop. Everybody is thinking so loudly and it won’t stop. Please do something.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Erik puts his hands on either side of Charles’s face, and starts to rub soothing circles on his temples. They are sitting cross-legged on Erik’s too small bed facing each other. Charles’s pain is evident on his face, his incredibly blue eyes filled with tears.
“I know you don’t know what to do…” He trails off, squeezing his eyes shut to try and block everything out again. “Erik, please.”
The begging breaks something inside Erik and without thinking he leans in to press his mouth against Charles’s open lips, instead of pushing him away he clings to Erik. His cold fingers grab onto Erik’s neck, holding him in place.
“Don’t stop.” Charles means what he gasps out, because when Erik kissed him all the thoughts quieted down. They are still there, but they aren’t screaming at him for attention. He can feel the hum of Erik’s own thoughts and it calms him further. Charles doesn’t know it yet, but years from now whenever thoughts get a little too loud he’ll think back to this moment and all becomes clear again.
Charles’s tongue pushes at Erik’s lips, demanding entrance, causing him to gasp and wrap his arms around his friend’s smaller frame. Neither of them has kissed anyone else before, so it’s messy and a bit too rough, Charles’s fingers digging into Erik’s scalp, Erik’s teeth biting at Charles’s tongue.
“Oh god, he tastes like pennies and toothpaste. Best flavor in the world is his mouth.”
“It’s blood.” Charles gasps out, reading Erik’s mind. “You’re such a weirdo sometimes, Erik.” The happiness in his voice gives Erik confidence to run his hands down Charles’s back to grasp at his pajama clad buttocks, bringing Charles almost into his lap. “Easy, there.” Their previous position causes his leg to bend awkwardly to the side, so Charles wraps his legs around Erik’s middle to sit more comfortably. It doesn’t even cross his mind that they shouldn’t be doing this here or now or ever. Instead of thinking he simply latches his mouth back to Erik’s lips.
Their new position brings the realization to Erik that Charles is just as hard as he is and he can’t help but buck up while putting his hands on Charles’s shoulders to grind him down against his erection. Charles pulls his mouth away to cry out sharply; his pajama pants wet with precome, preventing him from obtaining the skin on skin contact he desperately craves.
Erik uses the opportunity to take in the sight of Charles in his lap, face more flushed than he’s ever seen him, hair sticking every which way thanks to Erik’s hands, lips red and swollen, and his hips are writhing about trying to get friction.
“Oh god, Erik.” Charles covers Erik’s eyes with his hand. “Don’t look at me. You’re thoughts are filthy.” Erik chuckles while bringing the fingers down to kiss and suck. “Bloody hell.” Charles suddenly pushes him back roughly to lay flat on the bed, hands working Erik’s string pajama bottoms down to expose his overheated erection to the cold air. Erik inhales sharply, watching Charles do the same to his own pajamas. He rocks himself forward until their naked cocks touch, they groan in unison. Erik’s hands shoot up to grab at Charles’s shoulder, bringing him down to lick open his mouth, diving his tongue in, while their lower bodies move together. Charles is grinding down while Erik is pushing up, their arms wrapped tightly together.
Charles can feel Erik’s orgasm rising from the base of his own spine, their thoughts woven so tightly together he can’t make out his own.
“So beautiful,” “Harder,” “Faster,” “More,” “Love you.”
Erik pulls his mouth away to bury his face in Charles’s neck to keep from falling apart as he comes in between their bodies. Charles is seconds after him crying out a little too loudly; biting his lip and pulling Erik’s hair roughly.
“Wow.” Charles is the first to break the silence after what seems like hours, their positions still the same. Erik hasn’t even complained about his weight crushing him or the sticky wetness between them; he is completely blissed-out. Charles’s mind still isn’t filled with loud thoughts, only a quiet hum of awareness for all the minds around him. He slowly extracts himself from Erik, trying to keep his eyes from staring at his exposed flesh, and goes to sit at the foot of the bed. Charles takes the soiled shirt off and bundles it in a ball.
“Thank you, my friend.” His chest hurts and strong feeling of wrongness settles over him. He shouldn’t have to deny what he wants, but it’s for the best. Charles tries to keep repeating in his mind that’s its better for both of them, that he isn’t being selfish. “I needed that; thought my head was going to explode.”
“No problem.” A self-deprecating laugh escapes Erik’s mouth. “If you ever need to use me again… I’m here.”
“I wasn’t trying to use you, Erik.” Charles realizes that’s exactly what it sounds and looks like, but he didn’t come to Erik for this. He never would have given Erik hope for something that can never be, and rutting against each other like animals has not only messed with Erik’s head, but with Charles as well. How is he supposed to distance himself now while still keeping Erik as a friend? He can’t picture himself in the future without Erik by his side… as his best friend. “But, I don’t think we should do that again.”
“You didn’t like it?” Desperation, heartbreak, failure, and rejection are coming off Erik’s mind in waves causing Charles to almost double over.
“I think it’s pretty obvious that I liked it.” Erik visibly relaxes and smiles shyly. Charles continues on even though he knows that smile will vanish. “But we shouldn’t do it again.” Erik’s jaw tightens; Charles can hear the thoughts running through his head, wanting to explain. “You have to understand that I have plans in life and I can’t…” He runs his hands through his hair trying to figure out how to make Erik understand. “I can’t turn into my mother.”
Instead of a look of understanding appearing on Erik’s face, he just looks more confused and angry.
“What are you talking about? You think I’ll drive you to drink?” Erik finally stands up to change his soiled clothes; his movements are quick and angry, like he wants to really shake Charles instead of the clothes in his hands.
“No, no… you don’t understand. Please just listen.” Charles grabs Erik’s arm to pull him back down after he puts on fresh boxers. “You’re my best friend, Erik.” He keeps eye contact trying to force him to listen. “I hope that never changes. Please remember that. I don’t want to lose your friendship.”
“You’ll always have me.” Erik takes Charles’s hand still resting on his arm to put it on over his chest, over his heart. “In all ways.”
“I should get home.” Charles forces himself to break the tension building between them. Erik goes to rummage around in his dressers for clothes that would fit him while Charles sits and thinks about what to do next.
Charles is wearing a pair of Erik’s old shorts, held up with kite string, and a cheesy Christmas sweater Erik forced upon him. His friend laughed so hard at him he was gasping for air when Charles pulled his head through the neck hole, hair flat on his forehead. He found it surprisingly easy to joke around with Erik after they were both dressed.
Erik also forced him to put on some of his old rain boots before he set off in the woods. Charles is thankful for that since the path to his home is paved in branches and sharp rocks. His feet are still sore from his early run through them.
He takes his time making his way towards the prison he calls home, for now anyways. Charles vows he’ll leave for college with Erik if possible, and it’ll become just a mansion again. His childhood home will become just a sad building with a mad woman inside and far too many unwanted memories. Charles won’t become another prisoner, always drunk, and waiting for Erik to return to him. He is at the edge of the woods when he hears the foreign tiny girlish voice thinking about his food in the refrigerator.
“Half of this stuff is going bad! If I lived here none of this food would be wasted. Moldy chocolate cake! What is wrong with these people?” Charles goes to run around the lake, but the rain boots hinder him causing him to trip and fall, bloodying his knee. He pulls himself up and winces at the tiny rocks he can feel that made their way underneath his skin; it doesn’t stop him, though, from walking quickly to find out who is inside his house.
“Ooooh turkey AND ham sandwich, this is gonna rock.” Charles can hear drawers opening and plates being moved around, he turns the corner expecting to see a small girl, not his mother.
“Who are you?” He demands walking into the room. Not-Sharon turns around panicked and quickly puts on a sickly sweet smile. She is wearing her fancy red dress, large pearls, and hair nicely done up. Charles hasn’t seen his mother in anything but black for the last five years.
“Darling!” Not-Sharon coos at him stepping forwards. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“What are you doing sober?” The question startles Not-Sharon; her eyes go big- it’s a look Charles hasn’t ever seen on his mother’s face. “Who are you? You aren’t my mother.”
“Of course I am, Sweetums.” Her walking is stilted like she hasn’t worn heels before or at least not five inches. “You look like you’ve hurt your knee… I’ll clean it for you, poor dear.”
“Who are you? My mother has never cared about my cuts unless I’m bleeding on the carpet.” Charles has never tried putting thoughts into somebody else’s head, but by Not-Sharon’s look of surprise followed by her raising her hands up to her temples he must have succeeded. “What have you done with my mother?”
Not-Sharon slowly starts morphing from the head down into what appears to be a girl with deep blue skin, scales, and slicked back red hair. She is also much shorter than Sharon and younger as well; probably younger than Charles himself. His face breaks into a large grin and the small blue girl looks confused at his happiness.
“You’re not… scared of me?” Her voice no longer sounds eerily like his mother’s, but small and scared.
“I knew Erik and I weren’t the only ones that were different!” He wants to run over and hug her, but that would probably scare her off. “I’m Charles Xavier.” He holds out his hand for the small girl who slowly shakes it.
“Raven.” The massive sandwich she was in the middle of making sits on the counter behind her untouched.
“Go ahead and eat, Raven. You don’t have to feel scared anymore… or hungry. You’ll never have to steal again!” They sit at the island in the kitchen, Charles watching her eat, and talking about their lives for what seems like hours. Raven is twelve and has been by herself since her foster parents found out about her blue form. She was too young to control being transformed into a “normal” looking young girl for such long periods of time without slipping up, showing off her blue skin, or suddenly sporting strangely yellow eyes. Her foster sister at the time was always around to see these little slip-ups, but her foster parents only thought she just didn’t like Raven. Sadly a few days later at the dinner table they all sat stunned at the newly blue creature sitting, eating their pot roast.
She realized at a very young age to morph into other toddlers unless she wanted to go hungry. Nobody at the orphanage wanted to hold a blue, scaly baby. Charles promises that not only will she never go hungry again, but she has found a place where she belongs. He can’t wait to introduce her to Erik. Raven could tell by how animated Charles became, constantly smiling widely with sometimes a dazed look in his eyes and sometimes biting his lip in concentration, when he told her of Erik. That he was really important, funny, amazing, fantastic, powerful… she couldn’t wait to meet him.
“It’s us against the world!” She exclaimed excitedly thinking about the three of them forming a super group better than everybody else. Charles didn’t want to be against the world, but let Raven rejoice and knew Erik would like her just as much as he does.
To Be Continued...