I fall to the XMFC bug
Since fengirl88 herded me into a cinema to watch X-Men: First Class at the weekend (which is primarily down to ginbitch doing the same to her a month earlier), the shamelessly romantic and ultimately angsty love of Charles and Erik has somehow fused in my mind with Roy Redmond's cover of Good Day Sunshine to produce the image of the pair mooching round France on holiday.
This is as slashy as anything I ever write, which means that if you want the sex you'll have to make it up for yourself.
Thanks to selenak for introducing me to Come Together: Black America sings Lennon & McCartney, and to fengirl88 for taking me to see the XMFC film and encouraging me to write about it.
But most importantly, CONGRATULATIONS to ginbitch on the brilliant news! This is for her, as a humble token of admiration.
GOOD DAY SUNSHINE
"More coffee, m'sieur?"
The Englishman looked up and smiled. "Thank you. I may as well, since my friend's late."
"You wait for the young lady who was here before?" The one who was pushing your wheelchair?
"No, she's gone until tomorrow. I'm meeting... an old colleague."
"Ah, you come here on business?" She'd thought he was over-dressed for a holiday, with that suit and the blue silk tie. Even the Panama hat looked expensive.
"No, we don't talk business any more."
"That's good, m'sieur! Better to talk about happy things, n'est-ce pas?"
He nodded, but she wondered why he looked sad.
*************
The first time they had met alone - the first time after that day on the beach - they had talked business. Argued their cases over and over, trying and failing to win each other round.
Finally, exhausted, he had fallen silent. After a few minutes, Erik's polemic petered out; Charles had extended his hand and suddenly found him clinging to it. They sat side by side for a while, listening to each other's breathing, and then Erik had let go of his hand, taken off that ridiculous helmet, and lifted Charles out of the chair, holding him upright in his arms.
Since then they'd met once a year, and never spoke about the struggle they engaged in the rest of the time. The irony was that these meetings kept him going through that struggle; was it the same for Erik?
Charles always knew exactly how many days had passed since their last encounter, how many were left before the next one. As the clock ticked down, he counted the hours and the minutes - first to the agreed rendezvous, then to the amended time. Erik always kept him waiting a little.
Here he was at last, strolling under the plane trees, hiding behind dark glasses, but there was no way Charles could miss that saunter-with-a-hint-of-swagger; no need to use his mind to look. And a beard! That was new, and the hair seemed longer than usual.
He pulled out a few coins and dropped them on the table for the waitress when she brought out his coffee. Erik didn't plan to stay in the Place; Charles could already feel his chair being manoeuvred away from the table and into the open street.
*************
They advanced up the hill, past the old convent; hearing the wheelchair jolting slightly on the cobbles, Erik raised it to glide just above the ground. He always tried not to stare at Charles in the opening minutes, but now he risked a sideways glance.
"Only you would wear a suit and tie for southern France in August."
Charles smiled. "I knew you'd like the tie."
Of course; Charles knew exactly how it enhanced his eyes, and what that would do to him.
"And you... are you going for the hippy look?"
Erik laughed. "I'll leave the love and peace to you, sunshine. But there's no point making myself obvious."
It wasn't just that the human authorities might try to arrest him; he could ward off any feeble attempt on their part. But he didn't want to be too recognisable to any mutant who crossed his path, even if they were on his side. Particularly if they were on his side.
"How's Raven?"
Erik was suspicious for a moment; was Charles reading him? No, it was the natural concern of a foster-sibling.
"She's... fine. I'm sure she'd send her love if..."
If she'd had the faintest idea that I'd see you today.
"Hank and the kids?" he asked, for form's sake - he'd seen surveillance footage of them only last week.
"Growing up nicely."
Erik wondered what excuse Charles gave them for his annual engagement. He knew that any escort for the trip was hired on a one-off basis.
"It's going to be hot this afternoon."
Bloody Englishman, falling back on the weather. But he couldn't really think of any other gambit, except...
"Told you this was no place for a suit and tie."
Charles pulled at the tie, unknotting it, then folded it and tucked it into his pocket. Oh, for heaven's sake! But then he unbuttoned the neck of his shirt, and somehow that touch of informality helped Erik to relax for the first time that morning.
"Do you want help with the jacket?"
"When we stop."
They were out of the village now, the road leading them between fields of sunflowers.
"We should have got a picnic," Charles remarked. "The market had a good Camembert."
"Later. I brought a bottle."
Charles raised an eyebrow.
"No, I didn't bring any glasses. We'll swig from the bottle."
He knew that wasn't what Charles had meant. A couple of years ago Erik would have been too wary to risk clouding his brain, even though he'd stopped wearing the helmet, and relied on honour to keep Charles out of his thoughts. Now Erik trusted him... or was it that he hoped Charles's control might slip, and that he might feel that intimacy of the mind again?
"OK, we'll risk it," said Charles.
Was it a risk? If Erik could infect him with the spirit of rebellious independence, with the certainty that eventually even he would be rejected by unevolved humanity... But the risk was always greater for him, up against the strongest telepath in the world.
He shrugged. "It seemed a pity not to make the most of being near Bordeaux."
As if any telepathic force Charles possessed could touch Erik more powerfully than the yearning he saw in those blue eyes.
"Here?"
"Yes."
The gate unhitched itself, and they made their way through the field, finally halting under a shady tree. Erik lifted Charles out of the chair, laid him gently on the ground and helped him out of his jacket.
"Shall I open the wine?"
"Later."
Charles reached out for him, and this was why he kept coming back, for this moment when words and even thought were irrelevant.
I'm in love and it's one of them sunny days.
Also posted on Dreamwidth, with
comments.
This is as slashy as anything I ever write, which means that if you want the sex you'll have to make it up for yourself.
Thanks to selenak for introducing me to Come Together: Black America sings Lennon & McCartney, and to fengirl88 for taking me to see the XMFC film and encouraging me to write about it.
But most importantly, CONGRATULATIONS to ginbitch on the brilliant news! This is for her, as a humble token of admiration.
GOOD DAY SUNSHINE
"More coffee, m'sieur?"
The Englishman looked up and smiled. "Thank you. I may as well, since my friend's late."
"You wait for the young lady who was here before?" The one who was pushing your wheelchair?
"No, she's gone until tomorrow. I'm meeting... an old colleague."
"Ah, you come here on business?" She'd thought he was over-dressed for a holiday, with that suit and the blue silk tie. Even the Panama hat looked expensive.
"No, we don't talk business any more."
"That's good, m'sieur! Better to talk about happy things, n'est-ce pas?"
He nodded, but she wondered why he looked sad.
*************
The first time they had met alone - the first time after that day on the beach - they had talked business. Argued their cases over and over, trying and failing to win each other round.
Finally, exhausted, he had fallen silent. After a few minutes, Erik's polemic petered out; Charles had extended his hand and suddenly found him clinging to it. They sat side by side for a while, listening to each other's breathing, and then Erik had let go of his hand, taken off that ridiculous helmet, and lifted Charles out of the chair, holding him upright in his arms.
Since then they'd met once a year, and never spoke about the struggle they engaged in the rest of the time. The irony was that these meetings kept him going through that struggle; was it the same for Erik?
Charles always knew exactly how many days had passed since their last encounter, how many were left before the next one. As the clock ticked down, he counted the hours and the minutes - first to the agreed rendezvous, then to the amended time. Erik always kept him waiting a little.
Here he was at last, strolling under the plane trees, hiding behind dark glasses, but there was no way Charles could miss that saunter-with-a-hint-of-swagger; no need to use his mind to look. And a beard! That was new, and the hair seemed longer than usual.
He pulled out a few coins and dropped them on the table for the waitress when she brought out his coffee. Erik didn't plan to stay in the Place; Charles could already feel his chair being manoeuvred away from the table and into the open street.
*************
They advanced up the hill, past the old convent; hearing the wheelchair jolting slightly on the cobbles, Erik raised it to glide just above the ground. He always tried not to stare at Charles in the opening minutes, but now he risked a sideways glance.
"Only you would wear a suit and tie for southern France in August."
Charles smiled. "I knew you'd like the tie."
Of course; Charles knew exactly how it enhanced his eyes, and what that would do to him.
"And you... are you going for the hippy look?"
Erik laughed. "I'll leave the love and peace to you, sunshine. But there's no point making myself obvious."
It wasn't just that the human authorities might try to arrest him; he could ward off any feeble attempt on their part. But he didn't want to be too recognisable to any mutant who crossed his path, even if they were on his side. Particularly if they were on his side.
"How's Raven?"
Erik was suspicious for a moment; was Charles reading him? No, it was the natural concern of a foster-sibling.
"She's... fine. I'm sure she'd send her love if..."
If she'd had the faintest idea that I'd see you today.
"Hank and the kids?" he asked, for form's sake - he'd seen surveillance footage of them only last week.
"Growing up nicely."
Erik wondered what excuse Charles gave them for his annual engagement. He knew that any escort for the trip was hired on a one-off basis.
"It's going to be hot this afternoon."
Bloody Englishman, falling back on the weather. But he couldn't really think of any other gambit, except...
"Told you this was no place for a suit and tie."
Charles pulled at the tie, unknotting it, then folded it and tucked it into his pocket. Oh, for heaven's sake! But then he unbuttoned the neck of his shirt, and somehow that touch of informality helped Erik to relax for the first time that morning.
"Do you want help with the jacket?"
"When we stop."
They were out of the village now, the road leading them between fields of sunflowers.
"We should have got a picnic," Charles remarked. "The market had a good Camembert."
"Later. I brought a bottle."
Charles raised an eyebrow.
"No, I didn't bring any glasses. We'll swig from the bottle."
He knew that wasn't what Charles had meant. A couple of years ago Erik would have been too wary to risk clouding his brain, even though he'd stopped wearing the helmet, and relied on honour to keep Charles out of his thoughts. Now Erik trusted him... or was it that he hoped Charles's control might slip, and that he might feel that intimacy of the mind again?
"OK, we'll risk it," said Charles.
Was it a risk? If Erik could infect him with the spirit of rebellious independence, with the certainty that eventually even he would be rejected by unevolved humanity... But the risk was always greater for him, up against the strongest telepath in the world.
He shrugged. "It seemed a pity not to make the most of being near Bordeaux."
As if any telepathic force Charles possessed could touch Erik more powerfully than the yearning he saw in those blue eyes.
"Here?"
"Yes."
The gate unhitched itself, and they made their way through the field, finally halting under a shady tree. Erik lifted Charles out of the chair, laid him gently on the ground and helped him out of his jacket.
"Shall I open the wine?"
"Later."
Charles reached out for him, and this was why he kept coming back, for this moment when words and even thought were irrelevant.
I'm in love and it's one of them sunny days.
Also posted on Dreamwidth, with
comments.