small things
Masterlist reorganized and updated (now in two posts; no other way to do it; darn you, length limits), so that should be all good. Also, An Awesome Husband anecdote, and a tiny Erik/Charles fic preview...
In this episode, Awesome Husband and I are on the way back from the grocery store:
him: ...did I buy the snack mix with peanuts, or without?
me: *driving* ...I don't know, you picked it out, why?
him: I just wanted to know which one I got.
me: I wasn't watching you...
him: See, if I got the one WITH peanuts, I got it because I like peanuts. If I got the one WITHOUT peanuts, I was trying to be healthy.
me: We're, like, literally two minutes from home, you can't wait and check then?
him: I was just wondering about my motivations.
And fic preview! This is from the second chapter of that birthday fic that I'm still writing for euruaina:
I had plans for you!
“You what,” Erik says again, but he’s laughing as he lets Charles escape, delight that Charles can feel radiating through his own body, Erik’s astonished pleasure at laughing in bed, being able to laugh in bed, being able to laugh at all. “Honestly? You’re stopping to find…honey. Oh, no…”
“Seductive honey,” Charles says, still dancing on the giddy upsurge of Erik’s joy, “you said as much, and I brought it up here quite a while earlier, I meant to use it the first time, but…”
“I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“Nor will you. Now…” You did say you liked me licking it from my fingers. He hops back onto the bed. Watches Erik watching him. He’s not even embarrassed. He’d thought he might be-he has very little shame in bed, of course, hard to have any shame left when one’s woken up wearing only pink panties in a stranger’s hotel room more than once, but it’s different with Erik, because everything is different with Erik, and half the time Charles feels like he’s the one who’s the virgin, because sex has never meant anything like this before and he never wants it to end-but he’s not. Because he and Erik, together, can do anything.
Including all of his previously undiscovered fantasies. The ones he’d never known he had, until he’d spotted Erik eying his sugar-sticky fingertips hungrily.
It’s not a large jar. And he might’ve been eating out of it, at some never-to-be-disclosed time.
“Yesterday morning?”
“Now who’s eavesdropping? Just because I let you hear me, too…” That’s actually somewhat inadvertent. He’s never had this intense a connection, the kind of bond that lingers, omnipresent reassurance in the back of his thoughts like a shoulder constantly leaning against his, with anyone else. He could likely cut the link if he ever truly had to, but he doesn’t mind. He feels comforted, somehow, knowing that Erik’s always merely a thought away.
Always.
I love you, Charles tells him, wordless and elemental, pure truth like the roar of the sea, the invisible power of the wind outside. Unseen, except for the traces it leaves. Weather-marks, eternal, in both their souls.
I love you and your unnatural cravings for sugar. Are you certain it’s not some sort of secondary mutation?
“If it is,” Charles says decidedly, “I think proper experimental research ought to be done,” and slides his finger into the jar and out, coating of opulent amber over his skin. Licks his fingertip, slowly, at first because he’s trying to make Erik forget words again and then just because he’s distracted by the taste. Sugar, blossoming over his tongue.
Erik stares. Charles grins, in their heads-the expression probably tastes like honey there, too-and runs his tongue all along the length of his finger, flexible joints, the delicate edges of a slightly too-short nail.
This time Erik says something astoundingly blasphemous, not in any language Charles knows although he gets the general sense, and he could pluck the translation out of someone’s head but he kind of prefers it this way, a mystery, himself not knowing everything just yet.
He smiles. Slips his finger back into cool liquid, takes it out. Reaches over and touches Erik’s bare skin. Erik’s eyes go wide, but he doesn’t object-in fact, his mental processes are shouting YES YES YES quite loudly-so Charles continues, painting designs, idly drawing symbols, letters of the Greek alphabet, scientific notation.
Are…are you…did you just calculate the size of my…
The answer was infinity, in case you were wondering.
That’s…hardly…accurate mathemathics, Charles…
It certainly feels that way. And I should know. He pauses to lick some extraneous lines, errors of notation, off of Erik’s stomach. So much muscle. And scar tissue, of course. There’s a story behind every one. He knows many of them. Erik will tell him the rest, someday.
He accidentally-honestly an accident, he’d been saving that for later-brushes his cheek against Erik’s cock, already impressively hard and straining upwards. Considers for a second, touches his tongue briefly to the head-Erik gasps-and then says, happily, Needs sugar, I think. And collects the jar, and pours, deliberate drips and drizzles that collect and pool over Erik’s tanned skin.
Erik makes a noise that can only be described as a pathetic squeak. Charles is very much going to mock him mercilessly for that later, but not now. Now they both have other priorities.
In this episode, Awesome Husband and I are on the way back from the grocery store:
him: ...did I buy the snack mix with peanuts, or without?
me: *driving* ...I don't know, you picked it out, why?
him: I just wanted to know which one I got.
me: I wasn't watching you...
him: See, if I got the one WITH peanuts, I got it because I like peanuts. If I got the one WITHOUT peanuts, I was trying to be healthy.
me: We're, like, literally two minutes from home, you can't wait and check then?
him: I was just wondering about my motivations.
And fic preview! This is from the second chapter of that birthday fic that I'm still writing for euruaina:
I had plans for you!
“You what,” Erik says again, but he’s laughing as he lets Charles escape, delight that Charles can feel radiating through his own body, Erik’s astonished pleasure at laughing in bed, being able to laugh in bed, being able to laugh at all. “Honestly? You’re stopping to find…honey. Oh, no…”
“Seductive honey,” Charles says, still dancing on the giddy upsurge of Erik’s joy, “you said as much, and I brought it up here quite a while earlier, I meant to use it the first time, but…”
“I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“Nor will you. Now…” You did say you liked me licking it from my fingers. He hops back onto the bed. Watches Erik watching him. He’s not even embarrassed. He’d thought he might be-he has very little shame in bed, of course, hard to have any shame left when one’s woken up wearing only pink panties in a stranger’s hotel room more than once, but it’s different with Erik, because everything is different with Erik, and half the time Charles feels like he’s the one who’s the virgin, because sex has never meant anything like this before and he never wants it to end-but he’s not. Because he and Erik, together, can do anything.
Including all of his previously undiscovered fantasies. The ones he’d never known he had, until he’d spotted Erik eying his sugar-sticky fingertips hungrily.
It’s not a large jar. And he might’ve been eating out of it, at some never-to-be-disclosed time.
“Yesterday morning?”
“Now who’s eavesdropping? Just because I let you hear me, too…” That’s actually somewhat inadvertent. He’s never had this intense a connection, the kind of bond that lingers, omnipresent reassurance in the back of his thoughts like a shoulder constantly leaning against his, with anyone else. He could likely cut the link if he ever truly had to, but he doesn’t mind. He feels comforted, somehow, knowing that Erik’s always merely a thought away.
Always.
I love you, Charles tells him, wordless and elemental, pure truth like the roar of the sea, the invisible power of the wind outside. Unseen, except for the traces it leaves. Weather-marks, eternal, in both their souls.
I love you and your unnatural cravings for sugar. Are you certain it’s not some sort of secondary mutation?
“If it is,” Charles says decidedly, “I think proper experimental research ought to be done,” and slides his finger into the jar and out, coating of opulent amber over his skin. Licks his fingertip, slowly, at first because he’s trying to make Erik forget words again and then just because he’s distracted by the taste. Sugar, blossoming over his tongue.
Erik stares. Charles grins, in their heads-the expression probably tastes like honey there, too-and runs his tongue all along the length of his finger, flexible joints, the delicate edges of a slightly too-short nail.
This time Erik says something astoundingly blasphemous, not in any language Charles knows although he gets the general sense, and he could pluck the translation out of someone’s head but he kind of prefers it this way, a mystery, himself not knowing everything just yet.
He smiles. Slips his finger back into cool liquid, takes it out. Reaches over and touches Erik’s bare skin. Erik’s eyes go wide, but he doesn’t object-in fact, his mental processes are shouting YES YES YES quite loudly-so Charles continues, painting designs, idly drawing symbols, letters of the Greek alphabet, scientific notation.
Are…are you…did you just calculate the size of my…
The answer was infinity, in case you were wondering.
That’s…hardly…accurate mathemathics, Charles…
It certainly feels that way. And I should know. He pauses to lick some extraneous lines, errors of notation, off of Erik’s stomach. So much muscle. And scar tissue, of course. There’s a story behind every one. He knows many of them. Erik will tell him the rest, someday.
He accidentally-honestly an accident, he’d been saving that for later-brushes his cheek against Erik’s cock, already impressively hard and straining upwards. Considers for a second, touches his tongue briefly to the head-Erik gasps-and then says, happily, Needs sugar, I think. And collects the jar, and pours, deliberate drips and drizzles that collect and pool over Erik’s tanned skin.
Erik makes a noise that can only be described as a pathetic squeak. Charles is very much going to mock him mercilessly for that later, but not now. Now they both have other priorities.