Better Outrun My Gun -
Erik stands, walking around the table until he's there right next to Charles. He pulls Charles gently up out of his chair, leaning in until their bodies are only inches away. The kiss is just a soft brush of his lips across Charles's. Then his hand reaches out to cradle the back of Charles's head, pulling him in closer. His mouth on Charles's, their lips parting between them as their tongues claim each other. Erik kisses like his life depends on it, as though it's the last kiss he'll ever have. When he pulls back, still cupping Charles's head, he's studying Charles, still searching.
“Upstairs?”
Charles managed a soft, helpless half laugh, half giggle. “I do think Moira would prefer that as opposed to...” He gets a sudden flash of Erik pressing him down upon the table, how it felt.
“Fucking you on the kitchen floor?” Erik inquires.
The lust in his voice makes Charles's body want. “You can do that anywhere.”
Erik closes his eyes for a moment. “'Upstairs, before I take advantage of that.”
He lets Charles lead the way up the back stairs, mostly so he can grope his ass. Charles stifles a moan as Erik's hands palm his cheek through his trousers, his fingers rubbing down his cleft.
“Erik.”
“You said anywhere.” Erik murmurs, his breath on the back of Charles's neck.
“We're almost there, please.” Charles makes it to his room, getting the door open at last. He wants it to be there, wants it to be in his room so that he'll be able to lie there at night and remember Erik filling this space, filling him. The thought makes him quiver with anticipation.
Erik closes the door behind him and leans against it, still just looking at him. Then he locks it.
Charles stands in the middle of his room just enjoying the fact that Erik is in his room. Then he moves forward, pressing Erik back against the door, his tongue curling over Erik's collarbone, sucking at him tenderly. “Erik.”
“Charles.” Erik's holding him as though he doesn't want to break him, as though he's precious.
Charles doesn’t want to be precious. He wants Erik to touch him, really touch him. His hands pull slightly, on the collar of Erik's shirt. “What are you waiting for?”
Erik smiles, reaching down to grip Charles's ass so tight, Charles resists squealing aloud. The back of his legs hit the bed, as Erik propels him backward. Then Charles is lying on the bed, looking up at Erik as he crouches over him, his knees cradling Charles's thighs, holding him still.
“You ever do this before?” Erik touches Charles's jaw, stroking his face tenderly.
“No,” Charles admits. “You?”
“Once or twice.”
Charles licks his lips. He's thought about it, imagined it while touching himself...but now, here with Erik, the thought of it being Erik that's fucking him makes him go hot all over.
“I,” He squirms free, pulling Erik down on the bed and crawling between his legs.
Erik sits back and watches as Charles undoes his trousers, drawing his cock out slowly.
“Charles,” Erik's voice gives way as Charles takes him in his mouth. Slowly, cautiously, that eager, young tongue moves over his cock. Charles may be inexperienced, but the enthusiasm, the want make up for it and he's a very quick learner.
At last Erik has to pull him off. “Charles, Charles, if you don't stop, I won't last.”
Charles sits back, looking slightly disappointed and all of his twenty-one years. Erik cradles his jaw. “Time enough for that.” His hands move down to unbutton Charles's shirt.
Charles lets him as he tries to get at Erik's. Their fingers push the material aside, both shirts drop to the floor beside the bed.
“Trousers.” Erik pulls his off easily, and then he's kneeling naked in Charles's bed, divesting Charles of his own. Then they're kissing, trying to touch everywhere at once. Thighs pressing against thighs, cocks brushing against each other. Charles is moaning into Erik's mouth as Erik grips his ass, rubbing against him harder.
Erik rolls them over so that he's lying on top of Charles. “You are the most deviously attractive young man.”
“You like it.” Charles looks up at him.
“Yes, I do.” Erik brushes his lips over Charles's nose, tickling him. He sits back again, looking down at Charles. There's oil in his saddlebag, but it's all the way back in his room.
“It's all right,” Charles tells him, inexplicably knowing his thoughts . “I have some.” He crawls over to the end of the bed, reaching in his bedside table drawer. “Here.”
“Do you use this on yourself?” Erik reaches for the oil.
“Sometimes.”
It's a picture Erik will keep with him now - the thought of Charles sliding slick fingers over his own cock, reaching down to touch his hole. Erik blinks, and realizes that for once, the memories important or not, can wait. The reality , now is too sweet to miss.
“Lay back.”
Charles does, half propping himself up on his elbows to watch. Erik pours the oil over his fingers as he nudges Charles's legs slightly further apart. The first brush of his finger over Charles's hole makes Charles shiver deliciously. There's already a drip of pre-come gathering at the head of his cock.
“You really want this.” Erik marvels.
“I've wanted this for a long time.” Charles admits. “I want you.”
Erik pushes inside slowly, letting Charles get used to the feel of it for a moment, before he pushes further.
“Nrgh,” Charles says indistinctly.
“Yes?”
“More.” Charles looks up at him. “Please.”
“Your manners are impeccable.” Erik withdraws a finger, then presses in two, steadily, gently, past the muscle until Charles's writhing helplessly around his fingers.
“God, Erik.”
Erik brushes the across the spot he knows, watching Charles gasp in surprise. “Oh, my, fuck, Erik.”
“There.” Erik murmurs, satisfied. “There.” He scissors his fingers, stretching Charles, curling his knuckles, making the younger man moan beneath his touch. Charles is not the only one who's wanted this for a long time.
Charles is panting by the time Erik withdraws his fingers. “Now, please, Erik.”
Erik nods, then hesitates. “It'll be easier for you, on your stomach.”
Charles nods and rolls over. The simple trust in the action petrifies Erik. He should run, fast as he can, faster than a speeding bullet, far away from this boy who doesn't deserve the kind of man he is.
Instead, he lays a hand on the flat of Charles's back, stroking down to the curve of his ass. Parting Charles's cheeks, Erik positions himself, saying a silent prayer that Charles won't regret this tomorrow, and thrusts in. Charles mutters incoherently into the pillows, clutching at the sheets, clenching around Erik.
“Charles.”
Charles looks at him over his shoulders, his eyes bright. “More?'
Erik laughs, almost giddy. “As you command.” He thrusts further, reaching for Charles's hips. The younger man arches back to meet him eagerly.
They move in the silent heat of the room, skin to skin. There's sweat on Erik's back, and his belly, from pressing close to Charles. Charles, who fits his cock so perfectly. Charles who's making the most delicious sounds as they fuck. Erik wants to touch him everywhere at once. He settles for a hand on Charles's hip, and the other on his chest, drawing Charles up on his cock so Erik can mouth at the back of his neck.
“Erik, Erik.” Charles murmurs, as they move more slowly, the heat pooling in Erik's groin. He sets his teeth to the nape of Charles's neck. His hand tightens around Charles's chest as he comes, holding the young man upright on his knees, thrusting into him. Charles comes as Erik fills him, his knees are trembling. He doesn't know how much more he can take. His own cock is dripping between his legs.
“Erik.”
But Erik's hand is there before him, stroking him in time with the last of his thrusts. Charles moans helplessly, his head falling back against Erik's chest as he comes, hastily spilling over Erik's fingers. Erik's still inside him, still holding him to his chest, panting as he strokes Charles, milking him until there's nothing left.
Charles closes his eyes. This moment here, it's...
“Perfection.” Erik murmurs in his ear, as though Charles had spoken straight into his mind.
Charles turns his head to reach Erik's lips. The angle is awkward, his neck won't thank him, but he kisses Erik and he doesn't care.
Erik eases out of Charles carefully. They lie there on the sheets warmed by their skin. Erik on his stomach, resting his chin on his arms. Charles is laying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. His body tingles all over. He's alive, gloriously so. He looks at Erik speculatively.
“What?” Erik answers the unspoken question.
“How long till we can do it again?”
Erik buries his laughter in his folded arms. “Charles, I'm almost a decade older than you. Give me a few moments at least.”
“You're not that old.” Charles murmurs. He's not sulking, really.
“Old for a gunfighter.” Erik responds. “It's a wonder I made it to thirty.” Only it isn't really. Yes, he's been reckless at times, but he's also taken care at others.
“You had something to live for.” Charles says quietly, picking at a crooked thread in the sheets.
Erik stares at him. “How do you do that? How do you reach into my mind and pluck my thoughts as though they're simply there pinned on a wall, waiting for you?” He's never talked this openly with anyone. It frightens Erik more than he cares to admit, even to himself.
Charles shrugs. “I don't know. You're just...” He closes his eyes. “...familiar somehow.”
Erik lays a hand on his belly. Charles's stomach is smooth, barely a hair at all, save for the thin, fine trail from his navel to his groin. “You are the only one I care to have know me, Charles.”
Erik presses his lips between Charles's nipples, then lower, kissing down to his navel, then lower. It's evident Charles is already ready to go again. Charles's hands are in his hair, pulling him up to his mouth. They kiss, lying in Charles's bed, arms wrapped around each other tight.
The second time is even easier - with Charles riding Erik's cock.
Erik's flat on his back, hands on Charles's hips. Charles has his head arched back as he moves. Erik drinks in the sight of the glorious young body working itself on his cock. Charles moans as Erik's hands reach around to cup his cheeks tightly as he rocks back and forth.
“God, Erik!” The thrust of this angle is amazing. Charles can barely breathe, for the flood of heat coursing through him, filling his body.
“Breathe, Charles,” Erik commands. “Breathe.”
“It feels too good,” Charles pants. “Your cock...” He shudders. He wants to shout aloud, but there's a knock the door and he freezes, right there, on Erik's cock.
“Charles? Are you in there?” Raven is at the door. “Moira said she thought she heard Erik was back?”
“He's in,” Charles chokes. He can't say, he's in me, but Erik's looking up at him, and Charles is starting to laugh. He can't help it.
“Charles?”
“He's a little bit occupied at the moment, Raven,” Erik says very very calmly.
There's a giggle from the other side. “All right.”
“Go away!” Charles calls hoarsely.
Erik reaches up a long arm and claps a hand over his mouth. “That's just rude, Charles.” He admonishes.
Charles smothers his laughter in Erik's hand as he starts moving again. The rhythm's slower this time, he's riding Erik's cock almost lazily. He comes at last, shooting across Erik's chest and chin. Charles rolls of him with a sated sigh. He lies on his belly, contented and pliant as Erik enters him again, fucking him in slow, measured strokes until he comes hot inside Charles. Charles clenches tightly around his cock, not wanting to let him go ever. They could stay like this forever, as one.
Erik's holding onto him, “It's not tonight, Charles, not tonight,” until Charles finally lets him go.
They don't sleep until the early hours of the dawn.
Erik wakes first. For a moment he doesn't know where he is, and his hand reaches for his gun. Only his gun isn't on his bedside table, and his hand encounters warm skin instead. Charles is curled up next to him like a cat. Erik threads his fingers through the young man's hair very carefully, enjoying the softness under his hand. He kisses Charles's hair gently before crawling out of bed.
It's early yet. He's tired, but he can't sleep any more. Dressing quietly, he slips out of the room without waking the sleeping figure.
Erik heads downstairs to the kitchen where he finds the coffee is already hot. He should have known Moira would already be awake. For a moment he hesitates at the door.
“Morning.” Erik says at last.
“Good morning.” Moira smiles at him. “Breakfast?”
“Thank you.” He doesn't sit, just yet. He's fairly sure Moira knows exactly they were doing upstairs all night. She didn't come to the door and demand that he leave her younger brother alone, so maybe it's all right.
“Charles is very precious to me.” Moira says as she pours the coffee. “I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt him."
Erik accepts the cup. “But you're worried about when I leave.”
“Yes.” Moira meets his gaze frankly. “I am.”
“Charles is aware of my plans. He seems...to think it was worth it.”
“I'm not saying it's not.” Moira hesitates. “Just don't leave without saying goodbye. Or anything like that. Charles, he's...the type you need to say goodbye to, Erik.”
“I know.” The thing is, he doesn't ever want to say goodbye to Charles.