Summer Fic Exchange: Everything Changes
Title: Everything Changes
Author: kayevelyn
Recipient: erethesunrises
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Erik relies on an old friend when things get rough.
Notes: Thanks umberela for giving this fic a read through. I would be nothing without her.
Disclaimer: Do not own anything!
He trusted Charles. They were friends, had been roommates when he was still in England, and even countries apart they stayed in contact with one another, letters sent at least weekly. Usually the letters were about daily life, business, and their students. No endearments because those didn't need to be said. But as 1933 rolled into 1934 Erik couldn't help but tack on his worries. The country was shifting. Rumors, and distaste that made his bones weary, and made his mother afraid to go to temple.
Charles had extended the invitation to come back to England immediately, for both him and his mother. Erik had declined initially, citing work, and that it couldn’t get too bad. Things would change. Things were fine. Nothing would happen to him, a highly regarded engineer, a professor.
Then he had lost his job.
He was the last let go, and the dean had looked ashamed as he ordered Erik to leave at the end of the spring semester in 1934.
“I’m sorry but we cannot keep you on any longer. You’re work has been appreciated. Good luck.” That’s what the dean had said. It was not a comfort.
When he got back to the apartment he shared with his mother, mouth dry and mind racing, he hadn't been able to form words to tell her what happened. For a terrifying second he didn't know what to do. It had been just the two of them since his father had died. He had moved back here to take care of her, watch after her instead of staying in London. He felt powerless. He couldn't do that anymore. Not here.
He locked himself in his study as he penned the letter to Charles ("Is the invitation still open?") It was a formality. There was no doubt it still was.
Booking passage was hard, almost impossible, but Erik was nothing if not persuasive and intimidating. It didn’t work on the police, but those lower down… The clerk behind the counter where he bought tickets was able to be glared into handing over two tickets even though his mother’s passport wasn’t ready just yet, and the man he spoke with to get the passport was easy to manipulate.
He wasn’t sure if Charles had gotten his letter (mail could be spotty) but once they got to London it would be easy enough to move around. Easier than it was becoming in Germany (and how had he not noticed that?) He knew Charles’ address; it was the same place they had lived together four years ago. The cab ride from the hotel would be expensive but Erik knew the trip would be quicker than trying to contact Charles through a phone.
There was a new doorman who was rude and unhelpful until Erik had forced him to take down his name. Then his eyebrows had risen and he hastily apologized. Charles had left the address of where he was going in case Erik showed up; he had gotten the letter. Erik took a look at the address, mind trying to plot it on the admittedly shaky mental map he had, and settled on Charles either being at the bar they used to frequent as students or one of the school libraries. He thanked the doorman, knowing they would see each other again. He didn’t want to be on poor terms with him.
The address ended up being the bar, and when he got there Charles was seated in the corner, head bent over the table with another man, a textbook in between them. Neither looked up as the door closed, and Erik took off his hat, nodding to the bartender before he approached the table. He rapped his knuckles on the edge of the table, the way he had when they were younger, and Charles jerked his head up in surprise, face lighting up into a smile.
“Erik! You made it.”
Like he hadn’t come from Germany, and instead just from down the street. Like Charles had been expecting him. He probably had.
“Did you just get in? Is your mother with you? Take a seat, or,” he looked at the other man he was with, thick glasses, a haggard but excited look on his face. Definitely a student. “Are you tired? You probably shouldn’t stay long. I bet it’s been a long trip.” He looked awkward, a mixture between getting up and grabbing his coat and trying to tell his student to stay where he was. It was classic Charles, and the familiarity was such a welcome sight after the journey Erik had to laugh, motioning for Charles to sit back down.
“I’m fine. My mother is resting at the hotel.” A frown tugged on Charles’ lips and Erik shot him a look, knowing what he was about to say. “I only booked us for the night. I already knew you would object to that but just in case you needed an evening to clean up the spare bedroom-“
“It’s already clean,” Charles said earnestly. “Really you shouldn’t waste the money my friend.”
“Charles,” Erik said with a stern look. “My mother is asleep. I won’t wake her. We’ll move in tomorrow, and stay for as long as it takes to find a place of our own.” He kept the stern look on his face, effectively keeping Charles quiet until he had finished. “And yes I know you think you have the space, but if I recall you are keeping at least three other people in that flat, and more are probably staying on your couch, am I right?”
Charles let out a sigh and then settled his eyes on his student, and Erik knew the conversation was about to veer completely off topic. “Oh I forgot, Hank this is my good friend Erik Lensherr. We were students together. Erik, this is Hank McCoy. I’m helping him with his thesis.”
Erik didn’t bother trying to pick up their old conversation, and instead sent a tight smile to Hank. “Pleasure.”
Hank offered his hand, already gushing excitedly about hearing a lot about him, and he’d love to pick his brain one day. Erik shot Charles a look, and was met with an indulgent smile as he slid his half empty glass to Erik, offering the remainder of his no doubt warm and flat beer. Erik took it.
Erik had guessed right; there was more than the three other guests that Charles counted as living with him. If you asked Erik there were at least five who considered the apartment their home. All were university students, except for Charles' little sister, who had finally moved out of the estate Charles’ mother and step-father lived in up north. Hank had given up his room so Erik and his mother could have privacy.
They hadn’t brought much in terms of possessions, the bulk of what they owned being Erik’s collection of books and research material. He’d need them as his portfolio for any job he applied for. He was planning on looking at the university first, hoping that one of his old professors needed someone to help, and if that failed there was always Cambridge.
That thought left a bad taste in his mouth, but he’d need a job of some sorts to support himself, and get reestablished here. No matter what Charles said.
“I don’t see why you need to find your own place. We had no problem living together before.”
“You can’t be starved of interaction with people. You have at least five regular boarders.”
“You know it’s not the same.” Erik opened his mouth to put out another point and Charles waved him away. “And don’t say anything about them not liking you. I think half of them like you more than they like me, and you’ve only been living here for two weeks.”
“I cook for them. Of course they like me.”
“That’s your mother cooking for them, and you are not by extension your mother.”
Erik snorted as he continued to go through the papers, circling places that seemed reasonable. “It would still be better for me to have my own place. Keeping up appearances and all.”
Charles worried his lip at the mention. Erik knew that four years ago neither of them had cared about that, but the world was changing, and it didn’t seem to be for the better. They had to be careful. He saw Charles eyeing the paper as he circled another potential apartment.
“That one only has one bedroom,” he pointed out.
Erik looked up, twirling the pen as he stared at Charles. “I know.”
“It’s too small for you and your mother.”
Erik put down the pen slowly, making sure Charles was watching him as he leaned back in his chair. They were in his study, the one that Erik was slowly taking over. “It’s not for me and my mother.”
Charles blinked, mind processing that. After a moment he spoke. “I can’t move out. I have to make sure-“
Erik cut him off with a look before he could start prattling on. “It’s not for you and I either. It’s just for my mother.”
“But you’ve been looking for places with two bedrooms,” Charles said, mind working to connect A to B and get C.
“I figure since I dragged her into a country where she barely speaks the language, the least I can do is offer her large accommodations.”
“And you?”
“Would be staying right here. Though I figure I will have to give Hank his room back. He does pay rent, if I recall.”
Charles nodded. “His father sends a stipend each month. But you shouldn’t sleep on the couch. I guess we could clean out this room, add a bed,” he seemed doubtful and Erik sighed.
“You know, for a genius you don’t always catch on quickly,” he said, laughing at the edge to take any sting away.
Charles gave him a look. “Are you sure? I didn’t want to presume.”
“Presume what?”
“I thought you wanted an extra bed. 'Keeping up appearances' and all that.”
“I’ll have my own place, under my name. No one needs to know I spend most nights here. And with so many regular boarders it’s not like people would expect anything untoward.”
Charles smirked. “I don’t know. With so many regular boarders people may think we are running some bohemian house. Taking in unwanted children-“
“They are hardly unwanted from what I have heard.” Erik said with a sigh.
Charles laughed and reached over, clasping their hands together. “So, you and me, here like this?”
“I suppose that’s how it will be, yes.”
The door to the study opened and Alex, a student who had changed his path to engineering after only three dinners with Erik, popped his head in. “For grease fires. Water or flour? Your mom didn’t say before she went out.”
Both of them paused, and the smell of burning finally hit their noses. Charles jumped to his feet and Erik just slunk further into his chair.
“Do not think about regretting this Mr. Lensherr,” Charles called as he rushed out of the study and into the kitchen.
“There’s a two bedroom in Chelsea. I hear that neighborhood is reasonable. You sure you don’t want to take a look?” He pitched his voice so it could carry out to the kitchen.
He couldn’t hear Charles say “don’t tempt me” but he liked to imagine it was there, even as he got up to go help put out the fire.
Fin
Author: kayevelyn
Recipient: erethesunrises
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Erik relies on an old friend when things get rough.
Notes: Thanks umberela for giving this fic a read through. I would be nothing without her.
Disclaimer: Do not own anything!
He trusted Charles. They were friends, had been roommates when he was still in England, and even countries apart they stayed in contact with one another, letters sent at least weekly. Usually the letters were about daily life, business, and their students. No endearments because those didn't need to be said. But as 1933 rolled into 1934 Erik couldn't help but tack on his worries. The country was shifting. Rumors, and distaste that made his bones weary, and made his mother afraid to go to temple.
Charles had extended the invitation to come back to England immediately, for both him and his mother. Erik had declined initially, citing work, and that it couldn’t get too bad. Things would change. Things were fine. Nothing would happen to him, a highly regarded engineer, a professor.
Then he had lost his job.
He was the last let go, and the dean had looked ashamed as he ordered Erik to leave at the end of the spring semester in 1934.
“I’m sorry but we cannot keep you on any longer. You’re work has been appreciated. Good luck.” That’s what the dean had said. It was not a comfort.
When he got back to the apartment he shared with his mother, mouth dry and mind racing, he hadn't been able to form words to tell her what happened. For a terrifying second he didn't know what to do. It had been just the two of them since his father had died. He had moved back here to take care of her, watch after her instead of staying in London. He felt powerless. He couldn't do that anymore. Not here.
He locked himself in his study as he penned the letter to Charles ("Is the invitation still open?") It was a formality. There was no doubt it still was.
Booking passage was hard, almost impossible, but Erik was nothing if not persuasive and intimidating. It didn’t work on the police, but those lower down… The clerk behind the counter where he bought tickets was able to be glared into handing over two tickets even though his mother’s passport wasn’t ready just yet, and the man he spoke with to get the passport was easy to manipulate.
He wasn’t sure if Charles had gotten his letter (mail could be spotty) but once they got to London it would be easy enough to move around. Easier than it was becoming in Germany (and how had he not noticed that?) He knew Charles’ address; it was the same place they had lived together four years ago. The cab ride from the hotel would be expensive but Erik knew the trip would be quicker than trying to contact Charles through a phone.
There was a new doorman who was rude and unhelpful until Erik had forced him to take down his name. Then his eyebrows had risen and he hastily apologized. Charles had left the address of where he was going in case Erik showed up; he had gotten the letter. Erik took a look at the address, mind trying to plot it on the admittedly shaky mental map he had, and settled on Charles either being at the bar they used to frequent as students or one of the school libraries. He thanked the doorman, knowing they would see each other again. He didn’t want to be on poor terms with him.
The address ended up being the bar, and when he got there Charles was seated in the corner, head bent over the table with another man, a textbook in between them. Neither looked up as the door closed, and Erik took off his hat, nodding to the bartender before he approached the table. He rapped his knuckles on the edge of the table, the way he had when they were younger, and Charles jerked his head up in surprise, face lighting up into a smile.
“Erik! You made it.”
Like he hadn’t come from Germany, and instead just from down the street. Like Charles had been expecting him. He probably had.
“Did you just get in? Is your mother with you? Take a seat, or,” he looked at the other man he was with, thick glasses, a haggard but excited look on his face. Definitely a student. “Are you tired? You probably shouldn’t stay long. I bet it’s been a long trip.” He looked awkward, a mixture between getting up and grabbing his coat and trying to tell his student to stay where he was. It was classic Charles, and the familiarity was such a welcome sight after the journey Erik had to laugh, motioning for Charles to sit back down.
“I’m fine. My mother is resting at the hotel.” A frown tugged on Charles’ lips and Erik shot him a look, knowing what he was about to say. “I only booked us for the night. I already knew you would object to that but just in case you needed an evening to clean up the spare bedroom-“
“It’s already clean,” Charles said earnestly. “Really you shouldn’t waste the money my friend.”
“Charles,” Erik said with a stern look. “My mother is asleep. I won’t wake her. We’ll move in tomorrow, and stay for as long as it takes to find a place of our own.” He kept the stern look on his face, effectively keeping Charles quiet until he had finished. “And yes I know you think you have the space, but if I recall you are keeping at least three other people in that flat, and more are probably staying on your couch, am I right?”
Charles let out a sigh and then settled his eyes on his student, and Erik knew the conversation was about to veer completely off topic. “Oh I forgot, Hank this is my good friend Erik Lensherr. We were students together. Erik, this is Hank McCoy. I’m helping him with his thesis.”
Erik didn’t bother trying to pick up their old conversation, and instead sent a tight smile to Hank. “Pleasure.”
Hank offered his hand, already gushing excitedly about hearing a lot about him, and he’d love to pick his brain one day. Erik shot Charles a look, and was met with an indulgent smile as he slid his half empty glass to Erik, offering the remainder of his no doubt warm and flat beer. Erik took it.
Erik had guessed right; there was more than the three other guests that Charles counted as living with him. If you asked Erik there were at least five who considered the apartment their home. All were university students, except for Charles' little sister, who had finally moved out of the estate Charles’ mother and step-father lived in up north. Hank had given up his room so Erik and his mother could have privacy.
They hadn’t brought much in terms of possessions, the bulk of what they owned being Erik’s collection of books and research material. He’d need them as his portfolio for any job he applied for. He was planning on looking at the university first, hoping that one of his old professors needed someone to help, and if that failed there was always Cambridge.
That thought left a bad taste in his mouth, but he’d need a job of some sorts to support himself, and get reestablished here. No matter what Charles said.
“I don’t see why you need to find your own place. We had no problem living together before.”
“You can’t be starved of interaction with people. You have at least five regular boarders.”
“You know it’s not the same.” Erik opened his mouth to put out another point and Charles waved him away. “And don’t say anything about them not liking you. I think half of them like you more than they like me, and you’ve only been living here for two weeks.”
“I cook for them. Of course they like me.”
“That’s your mother cooking for them, and you are not by extension your mother.”
Erik snorted as he continued to go through the papers, circling places that seemed reasonable. “It would still be better for me to have my own place. Keeping up appearances and all.”
Charles worried his lip at the mention. Erik knew that four years ago neither of them had cared about that, but the world was changing, and it didn’t seem to be for the better. They had to be careful. He saw Charles eyeing the paper as he circled another potential apartment.
“That one only has one bedroom,” he pointed out.
Erik looked up, twirling the pen as he stared at Charles. “I know.”
“It’s too small for you and your mother.”
Erik put down the pen slowly, making sure Charles was watching him as he leaned back in his chair. They were in his study, the one that Erik was slowly taking over. “It’s not for me and my mother.”
Charles blinked, mind processing that. After a moment he spoke. “I can’t move out. I have to make sure-“
Erik cut him off with a look before he could start prattling on. “It’s not for you and I either. It’s just for my mother.”
“But you’ve been looking for places with two bedrooms,” Charles said, mind working to connect A to B and get C.
“I figure since I dragged her into a country where she barely speaks the language, the least I can do is offer her large accommodations.”
“And you?”
“Would be staying right here. Though I figure I will have to give Hank his room back. He does pay rent, if I recall.”
Charles nodded. “His father sends a stipend each month. But you shouldn’t sleep on the couch. I guess we could clean out this room, add a bed,” he seemed doubtful and Erik sighed.
“You know, for a genius you don’t always catch on quickly,” he said, laughing at the edge to take any sting away.
Charles gave him a look. “Are you sure? I didn’t want to presume.”
“Presume what?”
“I thought you wanted an extra bed. 'Keeping up appearances' and all that.”
“I’ll have my own place, under my name. No one needs to know I spend most nights here. And with so many regular boarders it’s not like people would expect anything untoward.”
Charles smirked. “I don’t know. With so many regular boarders people may think we are running some bohemian house. Taking in unwanted children-“
“They are hardly unwanted from what I have heard.” Erik said with a sigh.
Charles laughed and reached over, clasping their hands together. “So, you and me, here like this?”
“I suppose that’s how it will be, yes.”
The door to the study opened and Alex, a student who had changed his path to engineering after only three dinners with Erik, popped his head in. “For grease fires. Water or flour? Your mom didn’t say before she went out.”
Both of them paused, and the smell of burning finally hit their noses. Charles jumped to his feet and Erik just slunk further into his chair.
“Do not think about regretting this Mr. Lensherr,” Charles called as he rushed out of the study and into the kitchen.
“There’s a two bedroom in Chelsea. I hear that neighborhood is reasonable. You sure you don’t want to take a look?” He pitched his voice so it could carry out to the kitchen.
He couldn’t hear Charles say “don’t tempt me” but he liked to imagine it was there, even as he got up to go help put out the fire.
Fin