fic: Romance in the Dark
Title: Romance in the Dark
Author: fengirl88
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Rating: PG-13/R
Warnings/Content notes: Semi-public sex
Wordcount: 828
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
Summary: Erik’s never understood Charles’s love affair with comic books and superhero movies.
A/N: Takes place in the same 'verse as Every Song I Know and contains spoilers for that fic; fill for the "love affair" square on my love_bingo card. This one is for
aesc, with love and thanks.
“It’s just as well I love you, or I wouldn’t be here,” Erik grumbles as the lights go down in the Garden Theatre.
“I know why you’re here,” Charles says, leaning over and pressing his lips against Erik’s ear. He strokes his fingers lightly along the inner seam of Erik’s jeans, and feels him shiver. “Popcorn and making out,” Charles murmurs, so low only Erik can hear him.
Popcorn and making out, and the promise of sex when they get home. It takes all of that to get Erik into the cinema for most of the films Charles really wants to see.
Erik’s never understood Charles’s love affair with comic books and superhero movies. His own tastes in film run to angsty taboo-smashing independent dramas, slick spy thrillers, and - more unexpectedly - sword-and-sandal epics and period romances. Charles thought at first it was just the bad science that made Erik allergic to the films he dragged him to see - Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, The Avengers - but clearly it wasn’t that. After all, he’d sat through that ridiculous film with the blond robot quite happily, even when the stupidity of all the scientists involved had made Charles gasp and stretch his eyes.
Charles has tried to explain why he loves his superhero movies so much: the alternate universes, the comic-book history he knows he’s a massive geek about, the way different characters’ powers collide and interact, the unexpected alliances between the human and the supernatural, Agent Coulson… Erik really doesn’t get it about Agent Coulson, and he’s more than a little jealous about Charles’s passion for Clark Gregg. Charles hasn’t dared to tell him that Gregg’s in this movie too.
And then there are the action figures. Erik did once try to suggest that all Charles’s talk of semiotics and cultural studies is really just a front for liking to play with toys. Charles’s response to this was to grin and say he’d be only too happy to play with Erik’s toys, especially that big one Erik keeps in his office. No use Erik saying huffily that Kepler’s planetary model was not a toy; Charles just laughed and reminded him of the first time they’d tested its workings and the spectacular drunken sex they’d had on Erik’s desk afterwards. At which point in the argument Erik tackled him to the bed and neither of them said anything remotely sensible for a very long time…
Erik grips Charles’s hand and moves it unambiguously higher, pressing Charles’s palm against the tell-tale lump in his jeans.
Ah. It’s like that, is it? Charles squeezes him gently, and Erik sighs and leans back, closing his eyes.
Charles’s pulse quickens, with nervousness as well as arousal. They haven’t done this often, and never this close to home, where there’s a risk of being seen by their colleagues, or worse, their students. If only it was winter, Charles could drape a coat over their laps, though that might be a giveaway in itself. He wishes he had some sort of Avengers-style power that could make the two of them invisible and Erik inaudible.
One good thing about superhero movies: the action sequences provide great camouflage if popcorn and making out turns into popcorn and a handjob. The explosions and special effects can drown out Erik’s attempts to stay quiet as Charles teases and strokes him, as well as the sound of his rhythmic heavy breathing afterwards. (Charles doesn’t know how Erik can sleep through aliens wreaking havoc on one major American city after another, but apparently he can, especially post-orgasm.)
Unfortunately for all concerned, Much Ado About Nothing, even as directed by Joss Whedon, is unlikely to run to the sort of loud noises and extended fight scenes that Charles’s favourite blockbuster movies offer as cover.
Charles is also really fond of Much Ado, for personal reasons, and he’d quite like to see Joss Whedon’s take on it without interruption or distraction. He’s hoping Whedon has the same idea as him about the Beatrice/Benedick backstory.
Fortunately for all concerned, the cinema seems to have decided that today is the day to show all the longest, loudest and most explosion-filled trailers it can find. Also fortunately for all concerned, Erik by now has a reliably Pavlovian reaction to sitting next to Charles in a darkened cinema, so this isn’t going to take long.
When they get home, he’s going to explain to Erik slowly and in detail, with visual aids and props if necessary, exactly why Much Ado is his favourite Shakespeare play and why Joss Whedon is a genius. For now, he’s content to focus on the pressure and rhythm of his hand on Erik’s cock, the sound of Erik’s hitching breaths that tell Charles he’s getting close, and to remember a rainy day in January, the heat of a roaring fire, his hand on Erik’s thigh as he touched him for the first time, and the taste of hot blackcurrant in his mouth.
***
Title from the song of the same name by Lil Green
Also posted at http://fengirl88.dreamwidth.org/127950.html with
comments.
Author: fengirl88
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Rating: PG-13/R
Warnings/Content notes: Semi-public sex
Wordcount: 828
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
Summary: Erik’s never understood Charles’s love affair with comic books and superhero movies.
A/N: Takes place in the same 'verse as Every Song I Know and contains spoilers for that fic; fill for the "love affair" square on my love_bingo card. This one is for
aesc, with love and thanks.
“It’s just as well I love you, or I wouldn’t be here,” Erik grumbles as the lights go down in the Garden Theatre.
“I know why you’re here,” Charles says, leaning over and pressing his lips against Erik’s ear. He strokes his fingers lightly along the inner seam of Erik’s jeans, and feels him shiver. “Popcorn and making out,” Charles murmurs, so low only Erik can hear him.
Popcorn and making out, and the promise of sex when they get home. It takes all of that to get Erik into the cinema for most of the films Charles really wants to see.
Erik’s never understood Charles’s love affair with comic books and superhero movies. His own tastes in film run to angsty taboo-smashing independent dramas, slick spy thrillers, and - more unexpectedly - sword-and-sandal epics and period romances. Charles thought at first it was just the bad science that made Erik allergic to the films he dragged him to see - Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, The Avengers - but clearly it wasn’t that. After all, he’d sat through that ridiculous film with the blond robot quite happily, even when the stupidity of all the scientists involved had made Charles gasp and stretch his eyes.
Charles has tried to explain why he loves his superhero movies so much: the alternate universes, the comic-book history he knows he’s a massive geek about, the way different characters’ powers collide and interact, the unexpected alliances between the human and the supernatural, Agent Coulson… Erik really doesn’t get it about Agent Coulson, and he’s more than a little jealous about Charles’s passion for Clark Gregg. Charles hasn’t dared to tell him that Gregg’s in this movie too.
And then there are the action figures. Erik did once try to suggest that all Charles’s talk of semiotics and cultural studies is really just a front for liking to play with toys. Charles’s response to this was to grin and say he’d be only too happy to play with Erik’s toys, especially that big one Erik keeps in his office. No use Erik saying huffily that Kepler’s planetary model was not a toy; Charles just laughed and reminded him of the first time they’d tested its workings and the spectacular drunken sex they’d had on Erik’s desk afterwards. At which point in the argument Erik tackled him to the bed and neither of them said anything remotely sensible for a very long time…
Erik grips Charles’s hand and moves it unambiguously higher, pressing Charles’s palm against the tell-tale lump in his jeans.
Ah. It’s like that, is it? Charles squeezes him gently, and Erik sighs and leans back, closing his eyes.
Charles’s pulse quickens, with nervousness as well as arousal. They haven’t done this often, and never this close to home, where there’s a risk of being seen by their colleagues, or worse, their students. If only it was winter, Charles could drape a coat over their laps, though that might be a giveaway in itself. He wishes he had some sort of Avengers-style power that could make the two of them invisible and Erik inaudible.
One good thing about superhero movies: the action sequences provide great camouflage if popcorn and making out turns into popcorn and a handjob. The explosions and special effects can drown out Erik’s attempts to stay quiet as Charles teases and strokes him, as well as the sound of his rhythmic heavy breathing afterwards. (Charles doesn’t know how Erik can sleep through aliens wreaking havoc on one major American city after another, but apparently he can, especially post-orgasm.)
Unfortunately for all concerned, Much Ado About Nothing, even as directed by Joss Whedon, is unlikely to run to the sort of loud noises and extended fight scenes that Charles’s favourite blockbuster movies offer as cover.
Charles is also really fond of Much Ado, for personal reasons, and he’d quite like to see Joss Whedon’s take on it without interruption or distraction. He’s hoping Whedon has the same idea as him about the Beatrice/Benedick backstory.
Fortunately for all concerned, the cinema seems to have decided that today is the day to show all the longest, loudest and most explosion-filled trailers it can find. Also fortunately for all concerned, Erik by now has a reliably Pavlovian reaction to sitting next to Charles in a darkened cinema, so this isn’t going to take long.
When they get home, he’s going to explain to Erik slowly and in detail, with visual aids and props if necessary, exactly why Much Ado is his favourite Shakespeare play and why Joss Whedon is a genius. For now, he’s content to focus on the pressure and rhythm of his hand on Erik’s cock, the sound of Erik’s hitching breaths that tell Charles he’s getting close, and to remember a rainy day in January, the heat of a roaring fire, his hand on Erik’s thigh as he touched him for the first time, and the taste of hot blackcurrant in his mouth.
***
Title from the song of the same name by Lil Green
Also posted at http://fengirl88.dreamwidth.org/127950.html with
comments.