The continued tales of the girl with the thorn in her side (X-Men: First Class, PG-13)
title: Let's Play Dress-Up
author: ilovetakahana
word count: 1483
fandom: X-Men: First Class [movieverse]
pairing: Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr
rating: PG-13
notes: Side-stories / timestamps from the universe of The girl with the thorn in her side. Please read that AU first!
Also archived at http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/.
Erik woke up to a still-warm bed. A soft strand of dark hair on the pillow next to his head; the scent of peaches and chocolate still clinging to his skin.
Charles, he thought immediately, and he rolled over and pulled that pillow to his chest. A poor substitute for Charles - but he was learning more and more about her habits, and one of those was the seemingly invincible alarm clock inside her head, attuned to her usual class schedules.
He sat up, caught sight of their clothes scattered all over the floor - and he covered his grin with the pillow. He'd never been so deliriously happy before - it was like a state of sustained joy, something that made him step more lightly, even when he was walking to or from another operating room.
Charles's declarations of shock and happiness were not helping matters any. Or perhaps those declarations were the very reason for his happiness; he hadn't decided yet.
He was absently picking up clothes from the floor when there was a cough, and Charles was grinning wickedly at him, wrapped in his shirt - ah, so that's where it went - and not much else. Two large mugs in her hands; the sweet waft of tea and black coffee.
“Oh, keep bending over,” she said, winking. “I'm quite enjoying the view.”
“Not fair,” he murmured, and he took the mugs from her, put them firmly down on his desk, then pulled her back into the bed. Hands skimming down over her arms, pulling the shirt away, throwing it back onto the floor. “You are not allowed to enjoy looking at me, if I cannot enjoy looking at you as well.”
He allowed her to pull him down into a kiss. The taste of bread and fruit juice. He licked playfully around her mouth, caught her hands when she batted at his chest.
“Speaking of which,” Charles said, once they were back among the pillows, “you said you had a request to make of me? Something to do with your work, and people seeing us together?”
“Yes. My department is hosting its annual dinner in a week's time, and we're all being encouraged to bring guests.”
“Are you asking me to be your date to this dinner? Of course I'll go,” Charles said, as easily as that.
Erik sighed with relief. “I had not thought about going this year; I have never much liked formal functions of that sort.”
“You went to my faculty tea party three months ago,” Charles said.
“And it was not at all boring; I have not forgotten that you were asked to sing and dance a silly song for everyone.”
Charles laughed and blushed and he couldn't help himself; he pulled her back in for a kiss. “Oh my god, I am never going to live that down, am I?”
“Sometimes I hum that song to myself,” Erik chuckled. He didn't flinch when she smacked his shoulder with her pillow. “I like going to your parties. But this one will be more formal, and I do not know what your thoughts on those are.”
“We do have formals at the end of the academic year,” she said as she crawled over him for her tea. “Although I admit we're cheating, since we usually wear academic dress to those things. Besides, I always look for an excuse to leave early, because there are after-parties, especially after graduation.” Pause, then he allowed her to kiss his temple. “I'll go to yours, and I'll be on my best behavior - ”
“ - And we will slip out at the earliest opportunity,” Erik finished, nodding. “Drinks and dancing?”
“You've got yourself a deal.”
After a few moments, Charles asked, “Erik? How formal is formal?”
///
He was feeling a little apprehensive when he pulled up to Charles and Raven's flat at six on the Friday of the dinner. He knew that Emma had had a hand in picking out Charles's dress, and he knew that Charles had quirky ideas about makeup.
He honestly had no idea of what to expect.
Raven was grinning when he opened the door. “Looking good, Lehnsherr.”
“Thank you, Raven. Although I must admit, I am remembering all the reasons why I do not do this very often.”
“Formal parties are a bitch, man,” was the sympathetic response. “And I say that as someone who's been dragged to enough of those.”
He gratefully accepted the beer that Raven handed him. “You were at one recently?”
“Yeah, this girl I was dating asked me to some costume thing and wanted to go in Roaring Twenties stuff. I loved looking at her - she was dressed as some kind of really sexy flapper - but everything I was wearing itched, you know?”
Erik chuckled, but anything else he was about to say was cut off by a well-known voice. He put the beer down, very carefully, before turning around.
“Is that Erik? Damn, I am so sorry, am I going to make us late? Oh, these blasted shoes....”
And he never noticed Raven slipping out of the kitchen because Charles was walking out of her room, because she was swaying toward him on high-heeled shoes and the light was catching softly on her skin. She looked impossibly lovely: the black dress that showed off her arms and her shoulders and her legs, the deep vee of the bodice, the belt decked out in red jewels and silver discs. A simple silver clutch in her hand. Her hair, caught up at the back of her neck with a silver pin, and dark strands falling forward into her face.
Her face: a thin rim of silver around her eyes, her mouth redder than wine. The light dusting of freckles over her cheeks.
“Hello, Charles,” he said, amazed that his voice was steady - but he wasn't surprised at how deep it was. It was one of his tells; Charles had teased him for it often enough, but she always kissed him at the end of the sentence.
And she walked right up to him, kissed him, a fleeting soft touch on his lips. His hands came up to her arms of their own accord, squeezed gently, let her go. “You look...I do not have any words to describe you.”
“I hope these nonexistent words are all positive ones,” Charles teased. Her hands were straightening his tie for him. Her fingernails, lacquered in glossy black.
“I assure you they are. And some of them might even be obscene.” Next to her, he felt underdressed, although he was wearing one of his favorite three-piece suits, black with dove-gray pinstripes, and the crimson necktie that Emma had given him as a birthday gift.
“Oh, yes please.”
“Fuck, you two look amazing,” Raven was saying, suddenly, and he snapped his eyes back to Charles, watched the blush spread across her face. “Mind if I take a photo?”
“No,” he said, self-consciously, but he fought it down. “How do you wish us to stand?”
“I have an idea,” Charles was saying, and she was opening her free hand and there was a silver chain in it, and a red jewel caught in a delicate cage of wires. “Erik, help me with this? Raven, you can take the picture of us while he's doing that.”
Erik smiled and kissed her cheek and took the necklace from her. A strangely intimate moment, his fingertips brushing her hair, her skin. The silver links gleaming. It took him just a moment to fasten the clasp, and then Charles was looking up at him, smiling. He never heard the camera going click.
“I...I should make myself scarce or you should,” Raven said. Quiet. Awed. “I hope you guys don't have far to drive.”
“We should go,” Erik said, ruefully, as he glanced at his watch. “We are expected at eight.”
“Email me the photo, Raven,” Charles said, imperiously. He smiled as she stepped to his side, as she put her hand in the crook of his arm. “Ready when you are, Erik.”
He was on a high when they left, proud and unabashedly happy, and he could feel Charles laughing and leaning into him.
He was glad that he was attending this dinner, glad that Charles was going with him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop smiling the whole night long.
He was quite looking forward to making quite the impression, with Charles looking the way she did, and when they got out of the car he pulled her into a hard kiss, murmured, “For luck,” against her mouth.
*****
title: Side by Side
author: ilovetakahana
word count: 678
fandom: X-Men: First Class [movieverse]
pairing: Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr
rating: PG-13
notes: Side-stories / timestamps from the universe of The girl with the thorn in her side. Please read that AU first!
Also archived at http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/.
“Erik?”
“Charles.”
“They've been following us for the last two blocks.... Are you going to be mad at me if I ask you to start running?”
“I would not be mad. But I would not run, either.”
Charles risked a glance over her shoulder. There were still three men walking after them. They were still leering.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” she said, and squeezed Erik's hand, gently. His warm hand closing hard around hers. “You should get out of here, this is going to get ugly. I can handle myself.” She shook out her other hand, felt the solid weight of her knife sliding into her palm.
“I know you can handle yourself. But do you not wish me to back you up, to fight at your side?”
“As nice as that thought is, Erik,” she hissed, “you're a surgeon. You need to protect your hands!”
And then he smiled, and it sent a frisson down her spine. “Who said I had to use my hands.”
Footsteps behind them, gaining on them, and Charles growled: “You are an idiot, and I love you.”
“I always enjoy your way with words,” Erik said. “And I love you.”
And then she was stopping and turning and she was glaring at the three men, hands on her hips. “Can we just get this over with?”
“Hey, man,” the one in the lead was saying, eyes sliding past her and over to Erik, “wanna lend us your girl?”
“Apologies,” Erik said. “I am not very good at sharing.”
“Aw come on,” the second man said. “We could teach her something new, and send her back!”
“Thanks ever so fucking much for talking about me like I'm not fucking here,” Charles growled, and she held out her hand and snapped out the blade, dropped into a fighting crouch.
The first man charged - he was trying to run her down, but she was ready for him and she sidestepped him easily, planting her feet in a new position as she grabbed his arm and twisted just so. Down he went with a yell. The crack of his head hitting the pavement; his eyes glazed over when she leaned over him, knife at the ready.
When she looked up, she felt her jaw drop in astonishment.
Erik was calmly dodging the second man's attacks. His arms up, protecting his face. And then - his opponent threw a punch, Erik stepped easily out of his reach, and as the man began to fall over his own feet Erik met him cleanly, a vicious roundhouse kick to the jaw, and the man groaned and fell in an undignified heap.
That left the third man, and Charles dashed forward, slashing at him, dancing around him and making him back up. She nodded, and Erik grinned as he entangled the man in a sleeper hold.
Charles stepped up to him and gestured with the knife. The man cringing away from her, fighting to get away from Erik. “Stop moving,” she hissed, “or he'll choke you, and I've no intentions of stopping him.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you people,” the man whined.
“Oh, that's a nice question you asked, considering that you asked my boyfriend if he'd give me to you guys. Not a chance.”
“We was just having fun!”
“No, you were not,” Erik said, tightening his arms. “I do not like it when fools like you harass women, and I especially cannot stand idly by when the woman you are harassing is this one. Understand?”
“Yes, yes!”
Charles sighed, then, and nodded. “Let him go, Erik.”
Erik did, and she moved toward him, tucking herself into his side. “Are there any other talents of yours that I need to know about?”
All the answer she got was his arm tightening once around her shoulders, and the soft touch of his lips on the top of her head.
author: ilovetakahana
word count: 1483
fandom: X-Men: First Class [movieverse]
pairing: Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr
rating: PG-13
notes: Side-stories / timestamps from the universe of The girl with the thorn in her side. Please read that AU first!
Also archived at http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/.
Erik woke up to a still-warm bed. A soft strand of dark hair on the pillow next to his head; the scent of peaches and chocolate still clinging to his skin.
Charles, he thought immediately, and he rolled over and pulled that pillow to his chest. A poor substitute for Charles - but he was learning more and more about her habits, and one of those was the seemingly invincible alarm clock inside her head, attuned to her usual class schedules.
He sat up, caught sight of their clothes scattered all over the floor - and he covered his grin with the pillow. He'd never been so deliriously happy before - it was like a state of sustained joy, something that made him step more lightly, even when he was walking to or from another operating room.
Charles's declarations of shock and happiness were not helping matters any. Or perhaps those declarations were the very reason for his happiness; he hadn't decided yet.
He was absently picking up clothes from the floor when there was a cough, and Charles was grinning wickedly at him, wrapped in his shirt - ah, so that's where it went - and not much else. Two large mugs in her hands; the sweet waft of tea and black coffee.
“Oh, keep bending over,” she said, winking. “I'm quite enjoying the view.”
“Not fair,” he murmured, and he took the mugs from her, put them firmly down on his desk, then pulled her back into the bed. Hands skimming down over her arms, pulling the shirt away, throwing it back onto the floor. “You are not allowed to enjoy looking at me, if I cannot enjoy looking at you as well.”
He allowed her to pull him down into a kiss. The taste of bread and fruit juice. He licked playfully around her mouth, caught her hands when she batted at his chest.
“Speaking of which,” Charles said, once they were back among the pillows, “you said you had a request to make of me? Something to do with your work, and people seeing us together?”
“Yes. My department is hosting its annual dinner in a week's time, and we're all being encouraged to bring guests.”
“Are you asking me to be your date to this dinner? Of course I'll go,” Charles said, as easily as that.
Erik sighed with relief. “I had not thought about going this year; I have never much liked formal functions of that sort.”
“You went to my faculty tea party three months ago,” Charles said.
“And it was not at all boring; I have not forgotten that you were asked to sing and dance a silly song for everyone.”
Charles laughed and blushed and he couldn't help himself; he pulled her back in for a kiss. “Oh my god, I am never going to live that down, am I?”
“Sometimes I hum that song to myself,” Erik chuckled. He didn't flinch when she smacked his shoulder with her pillow. “I like going to your parties. But this one will be more formal, and I do not know what your thoughts on those are.”
“We do have formals at the end of the academic year,” she said as she crawled over him for her tea. “Although I admit we're cheating, since we usually wear academic dress to those things. Besides, I always look for an excuse to leave early, because there are after-parties, especially after graduation.” Pause, then he allowed her to kiss his temple. “I'll go to yours, and I'll be on my best behavior - ”
“ - And we will slip out at the earliest opportunity,” Erik finished, nodding. “Drinks and dancing?”
“You've got yourself a deal.”
After a few moments, Charles asked, “Erik? How formal is formal?”
///
He was feeling a little apprehensive when he pulled up to Charles and Raven's flat at six on the Friday of the dinner. He knew that Emma had had a hand in picking out Charles's dress, and he knew that Charles had quirky ideas about makeup.
He honestly had no idea of what to expect.
Raven was grinning when he opened the door. “Looking good, Lehnsherr.”
“Thank you, Raven. Although I must admit, I am remembering all the reasons why I do not do this very often.”
“Formal parties are a bitch, man,” was the sympathetic response. “And I say that as someone who's been dragged to enough of those.”
He gratefully accepted the beer that Raven handed him. “You were at one recently?”
“Yeah, this girl I was dating asked me to some costume thing and wanted to go in Roaring Twenties stuff. I loved looking at her - she was dressed as some kind of really sexy flapper - but everything I was wearing itched, you know?”
Erik chuckled, but anything else he was about to say was cut off by a well-known voice. He put the beer down, very carefully, before turning around.
“Is that Erik? Damn, I am so sorry, am I going to make us late? Oh, these blasted shoes....”
And he never noticed Raven slipping out of the kitchen because Charles was walking out of her room, because she was swaying toward him on high-heeled shoes and the light was catching softly on her skin. She looked impossibly lovely: the black dress that showed off her arms and her shoulders and her legs, the deep vee of the bodice, the belt decked out in red jewels and silver discs. A simple silver clutch in her hand. Her hair, caught up at the back of her neck with a silver pin, and dark strands falling forward into her face.
Her face: a thin rim of silver around her eyes, her mouth redder than wine. The light dusting of freckles over her cheeks.
“Hello, Charles,” he said, amazed that his voice was steady - but he wasn't surprised at how deep it was. It was one of his tells; Charles had teased him for it often enough, but she always kissed him at the end of the sentence.
And she walked right up to him, kissed him, a fleeting soft touch on his lips. His hands came up to her arms of their own accord, squeezed gently, let her go. “You look...I do not have any words to describe you.”
“I hope these nonexistent words are all positive ones,” Charles teased. Her hands were straightening his tie for him. Her fingernails, lacquered in glossy black.
“I assure you they are. And some of them might even be obscene.” Next to her, he felt underdressed, although he was wearing one of his favorite three-piece suits, black with dove-gray pinstripes, and the crimson necktie that Emma had given him as a birthday gift.
“Oh, yes please.”
“Fuck, you two look amazing,” Raven was saying, suddenly, and he snapped his eyes back to Charles, watched the blush spread across her face. “Mind if I take a photo?”
“No,” he said, self-consciously, but he fought it down. “How do you wish us to stand?”
“I have an idea,” Charles was saying, and she was opening her free hand and there was a silver chain in it, and a red jewel caught in a delicate cage of wires. “Erik, help me with this? Raven, you can take the picture of us while he's doing that.”
Erik smiled and kissed her cheek and took the necklace from her. A strangely intimate moment, his fingertips brushing her hair, her skin. The silver links gleaming. It took him just a moment to fasten the clasp, and then Charles was looking up at him, smiling. He never heard the camera going click.
“I...I should make myself scarce or you should,” Raven said. Quiet. Awed. “I hope you guys don't have far to drive.”
“We should go,” Erik said, ruefully, as he glanced at his watch. “We are expected at eight.”
“Email me the photo, Raven,” Charles said, imperiously. He smiled as she stepped to his side, as she put her hand in the crook of his arm. “Ready when you are, Erik.”
He was on a high when they left, proud and unabashedly happy, and he could feel Charles laughing and leaning into him.
He was glad that he was attending this dinner, glad that Charles was going with him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop smiling the whole night long.
He was quite looking forward to making quite the impression, with Charles looking the way she did, and when they got out of the car he pulled her into a hard kiss, murmured, “For luck,” against her mouth.
*****
title: Side by Side
author: ilovetakahana
word count: 678
fandom: X-Men: First Class [movieverse]
pairing: Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr
rating: PG-13
notes: Side-stories / timestamps from the universe of The girl with the thorn in her side. Please read that AU first!
Also archived at http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/.
“Erik?”
“Charles.”
“They've been following us for the last two blocks.... Are you going to be mad at me if I ask you to start running?”
“I would not be mad. But I would not run, either.”
Charles risked a glance over her shoulder. There were still three men walking after them. They were still leering.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” she said, and squeezed Erik's hand, gently. His warm hand closing hard around hers. “You should get out of here, this is going to get ugly. I can handle myself.” She shook out her other hand, felt the solid weight of her knife sliding into her palm.
“I know you can handle yourself. But do you not wish me to back you up, to fight at your side?”
“As nice as that thought is, Erik,” she hissed, “you're a surgeon. You need to protect your hands!”
And then he smiled, and it sent a frisson down her spine. “Who said I had to use my hands.”
Footsteps behind them, gaining on them, and Charles growled: “You are an idiot, and I love you.”
“I always enjoy your way with words,” Erik said. “And I love you.”
And then she was stopping and turning and she was glaring at the three men, hands on her hips. “Can we just get this over with?”
“Hey, man,” the one in the lead was saying, eyes sliding past her and over to Erik, “wanna lend us your girl?”
“Apologies,” Erik said. “I am not very good at sharing.”
“Aw come on,” the second man said. “We could teach her something new, and send her back!”
“Thanks ever so fucking much for talking about me like I'm not fucking here,” Charles growled, and she held out her hand and snapped out the blade, dropped into a fighting crouch.
The first man charged - he was trying to run her down, but she was ready for him and she sidestepped him easily, planting her feet in a new position as she grabbed his arm and twisted just so. Down he went with a yell. The crack of his head hitting the pavement; his eyes glazed over when she leaned over him, knife at the ready.
When she looked up, she felt her jaw drop in astonishment.
Erik was calmly dodging the second man's attacks. His arms up, protecting his face. And then - his opponent threw a punch, Erik stepped easily out of his reach, and as the man began to fall over his own feet Erik met him cleanly, a vicious roundhouse kick to the jaw, and the man groaned and fell in an undignified heap.
That left the third man, and Charles dashed forward, slashing at him, dancing around him and making him back up. She nodded, and Erik grinned as he entangled the man in a sleeper hold.
Charles stepped up to him and gestured with the knife. The man cringing away from her, fighting to get away from Erik. “Stop moving,” she hissed, “or he'll choke you, and I've no intentions of stopping him.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you people,” the man whined.
“Oh, that's a nice question you asked, considering that you asked my boyfriend if he'd give me to you guys. Not a chance.”
“We was just having fun!”
“No, you were not,” Erik said, tightening his arms. “I do not like it when fools like you harass women, and I especially cannot stand idly by when the woman you are harassing is this one. Understand?”
“Yes, yes!”
Charles sighed, then, and nodded. “Let him go, Erik.”
Erik did, and she moved toward him, tucking herself into his side. “Are there any other talents of yours that I need to know about?”
All the answer she got was his arm tightening once around her shoulders, and the soft touch of his lips on the top of her head.