[ It was probably for the best Erik kept some sort of a hold on Charles or the man might of fled; not that he was really one for running away-- far too stubborn usually-- but the swell of embarrassment that echoed through him was enough for him to attempt to put a reasonable distance between them in hopes of explaining his actions later. This was new territory and the lack of any real return-- any pressure on Erik's end is disheartening; even with the small smile and that represented heavy tone to his words Charles can't help but feel the constriction in his chest. He was such a foolish, foolish man. He should have known not to bridge the gap like that, things had been fine as they were but Charles had never really been able to settle for good enough. ]
Of course, [ His words are soft, withdrawn, because while he can't pull away physically he can sink back into himself otherwise. He's never had a relationship quite like this-- not even the one he had developed with Raven-- something that had struck him so hard, so deeply and settled so close to the core of who he was. Someone he could fight with daily and still forgive in the evenings and yet-- and yet perhaps it was only him. Perhaps he was the only one who felt that pull-- at least so strongly; because there was undeniably something there; but perhaps it was not the same something for the both of them. The sound of the thudding he realized wasn't from some external source but the light echoing of his heartbeat against his ears. It wasn't painfully loud, not the same thrum of fear, but just enough to remind him of the constant constriction over his heart. ] Just--
[ There's a pause as his tone wavers, and he has to force some control down on himself. Charles wasn't the sort of person who could hide as easily as Erik; he was too open, too expressive, because his life had been run on drive and passion and for all of his science he wasn't a clinical man himself-- not entirely. Sure there were less than savory actions, but all for the greater good as far as he was concerned. Pushing to make things better for their kind, for them; to form some sort of secondary family-- and perhaps that's part of what has caused this leap on his part. The idea of a family they've formed themselves, the different ranks taken by each person, the places they've settled into with helping the children-- perhaps he's let it all lead him down the wrong path. A shallow puff of air as he tries to pull his wrist upward, ] If you'll let me go, I'll leave you to rest.
[ The hold does not loosen, and Erik’s loathe to allow him that space-- very much aware of the tug; how Charles is bound to retreat if he allows him that distance to do so. There is no immediate questioning in him as to how this could change things between them; because at the heart of the matter, Erik actually wants this, craves that one further step; to take that final pace forward after the weeks of carefully edging around what was so clearly simmering; the haze of misinterpreted and misunderstood tension that they’d been fostering over the hours they spent together. The man’s ideals had the potential to drive him half insane with that combination of frustration and worry, because no one could possibly be so naive, or trusting; had he not seen the images splayed across Erik’s mind that night? He could push and push at that patience, and still have Charles remain close by-- fuming in all likelihood, but never managing to push him away entirely.
The thrum of the other man’s pulse quickens beneath his fingers, and he does not loosen them yet, not wishing to force this, but unclear as how not to. On some level he knows this ought to be handled with delicacy, but he lacks the tact-- unschooled in how to receive that ebb and flow of another person’s-- mutant’s-- complex emotions. ]
Yes-- [ And he does let go now, albeit reluctantly. But, incongruously, the same hand extends towards the other man again, as if intended to catch the hem of his sweater. ] Charles, wait. [ Erik’s stoically intense attention is absolutely focused on the telepath, and still with that closed-off sense of gravitas. He moves, pushing forward to encroach now, one hand planted behind him, the other hovering uncertainly in the air between them. The warning in his own thoughts is silenced by the other man’s proximity; he has no business initiating something like this-- he’d hurt Charles, separate them, surely-- Shaw would take precedence, the mission-- but he’s driven to ignore it-- too drawn in to leave. ]
Look at me. [ It’s barely a request, though there is no strain of command; just a note of patience-- and he pauses understanding the need to reciprocate. ]
[ His shifting, the beginnings of a forward movement, are halted by the request-- however much he desires to ignore it, as if he hasn't heard, Charles finds he doesn't have it in himself to do so. Eyes drifting from object to object on the walls, while it had been a room offered to Erik, it seemed to have little difference in decor from before the man had come to stay. He knew it was all part of his personality, able to uproot and move at any time needed, no trivial things dragged along for aesthetics. He traces the lines of the wood flooring along the wall, a fleeting glance given to the door that accompanies a pang of longing. Not just for Erik, but for the sense to have stopped himself moments earlier, or perhaps minutes before he had dared cross the threshold of his room in the late evening hours.
Jaw muscles flex and tighten, visible just below his ear in a moment of tension when he's asked to return that steady gaze. He rarely runs from things, but he wants to escape this. Not that he can blame Erik, not even if he wanted to could he-- the man had hardly asked to be barged in on. Charles had just been working with what he felt, what he assumed Erik felt, and while he had promised to stay out of the man's mind it was a pestering thought because he had just wanted to know so badly. To not be alone in those feelings he was acutely aware were as abnormal as most everything else about him. He had never worried about these sort of sentiments before they had met, the rarest flicker of curiosity hardly more than a fleeting moment of distraction from his education or sister. Anything that might allude to something unusual about himself in this context easily dismissed as a biological norm, because there had been no real connection-- attraction-- there.
His chest sinks in, as if the air is being pushed from his lungs, and in some ways it is; the weight of his own thoughts and emotions pressing against his rib cage. He steadies his expression, managing something he hopes reads as studious before he actually does meet Erik's gaze. The hand used to prop himself up curling into the bed, winding the sheets between his fingers and bunching them with the tide that rocked within his chest. ] Erik, I-- I'm sorry.
[ The other man's hesitancy-- his actual fear that by some cruel twist Erik does not return his sentiments-- causes a leap beneath his ribcage; some bone-deep and long beaten down sort of affection that he had only been half-conscious of. His own potential for it catches him off guard, the instantaneous need to reassure Charles; to finally return that fervent murmur that had pulled him out of his rage-filled deathwish the night off the Miami coast. That well used platitude of you're not alone-- it could be every sort of frivolous confession that he thought he was above, but there's a need for that now, perhaps, and this is Charles-- the fact still tinged with disbelief. Erik reaches out now, emboldened by his own certainty that this is right-- because when else would there be another chance?
It may be bad for them both, but there's the smallest off chance that it will not be-- and he's one for risks, so planting a firm hand on the other man's jaw; bringing their faces within several inches of each other-- ] Don't you dare apologize for this.
[ Despite his usual seriousness, there's something light mingling with it-- because it's been slow to dawn that he actually wants this, the thawing security that even the smallest gesture from the telepath can bring him. Thumb tracing a slow line that follows the line of the other man's cheek, Erik's eyes dip back to the curved mouth-- leaning further forward and pressing their lips together a second time; but there's none of the earlier chasteness; it's a certain movement-- and his fingers slip back to wind in the just-slightly overlong strands that frame Charles' face; the pads of his fingers dragging against the scalp. There's an ache of surety; and his mouth moves against the telepath's; deepening the contact and tugging him just barely closer. ]
[ His lips part with a soundless sigh, as if the simplest of touches could render him speechless; in this instance that seems to be true. The reddened skin of his lower lip wet as it was drawn in and then raked through his teeth, a nervous habit that played along with his constant need to touch his mouth. Currently, he found he wasn't able to move his hand from where it was bunched down into Erik's bed or the other which hovered uselessly near his knee. The trace of Erik's thumb along his cheek, the fingers moving into his hair, causes another intake of breath. It's like electric sparks to his skin, down his spine, and he he wonders if it's always felt that way-- or if it was just because Erik had taken up all of his focus.
When Erik leans in he doesn't entirely believe it till their lips are touching again. It was then he decides to just let go. Leaning forward a little he returns the kiss, he wanted that feeling again. Even if the frightened part of his mind, the one that always clung so tightly to the relationships he made in his life, worried briefly it wasn't entirely out of affection. That it was pity. But the logical part of his mind squashed it rather quickly, Erik wasn't the sort of man to do things out of pity, not even for Charles. The press of Erik's fingers only seemed to encourage him, his fingers slipping up from the bed where he had nearly crushed the feeling out of them with his grip. His hand doesn't grip onto Erik, worried about pushing the boundaries he had just remade when he crossed the last ones. Instead his fingers splay against Erik's chest, just gently pressing against him, feeling the warmth of his skin through fabric. ]
[ Tilting his head to change the angle-- Erik's tongue sweeps the inside of the telepath's mouth; softer than he had imagined, and vastly warmer; and it brings them closer still. The press of the other man's hand against the center of his chest does not cause him to stop, just to hesitate for the most brief second; because there's something so deeply personal in the touch-- settled directly above the bow of his ribs; feverish in its exuded heat. He moves forward, free hand sliding to grip Charles' waist; fingers winding in the knitted fabric; catching it tightly. The kiss breaks of its own accord, and he's reluctant to separate them further, nose still that bare inch away from Charles' own-- sharing the humid air; his own breathing still relatively even. With his upper lip pulling back, Erik smiles-- and it's a private expression; when his eyes snap up to meet the telepath's-- intended for him alone; their requited secret. And now that they've crossed that line, Erik's loathe to move further away than he needs to-- so drawn towards the other mutant; not for the first time, but now the reason is clear. ] Well-- [ He breathes with that smile, and it curls wider, not with a lack of bemusement. ] This was certainly a surprise.
[ Sobering, he doesn’t move to kiss Charles again, just holds their position-- close enough to broach the divide all too easily; one hand carding through the strands of hair, pushing them back just a little roughly. ]
[ There's something far more intimate to him about this than even more personal, physical, experiences. It's dizzying for a moment, the depth of sensation in comparison to previous so-called intimate moments. They hadn't been like this, not at all; he can tell because he's never wanted to just laugh because of all the warm sensations Erik's lips stirred in his gut. The smile he felt tingle at his lips whenever Erik was in his bubble of space-- even if they pointedly avoided any serious touching-- just being close had been enough for him at first. The feelings, the deeper ones, had been terrifying for him at first-- so close and so deep and Erik was a man. For all his open minded nature, that was something far out of his realm of experience, his knowledge, it had startled him. He knew the biology of it, at least what studies had proven with humans and animals, and it had never bothered him in anyone else. There was a difference though, when it was him.
He came to realize after some introspection and careful review of his own thoughts and behaviors that perhaps it was latent-- in a way. His attraction was generally limited to Erik, and Erik alone. He had seen all of the man, his pain and his brilliance alike, and found himself nearly consumed for it. It wasn't why he leapt from the boat; no, he did that to save a life. But the fervor in which he tried to make a mark on Erik, to stake a claim in his life, that had not been solely for the mission and he knew that much now when they sat so close. He can feel the warm brush of Erik's breath and he lets out a dry chuckle, voice dipping lower, ] Mmm-- Surprise. [ His eyes slip closed momentarily, his head tipping to the side and toward Erik's hand just enough to earn more contact without pulling away. Rarely did he let anyone touch his hair, and the touch starved nerves are set alight just by the simple contact. ]
[ It's a terrible kind of relief-- double-edged for him, and dangerous; but the telepath's gentle constancy does calm him; stilling the sudden upsurge of doubt; which is trodden down with such ease that it catches him. Charles leans into him; the dark hair he's envisioned threading his fingers through-- now material in his hand; and the unreality of the situation is gone, because he has Charles here, with him now-- and it's something he'd wanted before, unclassified, and unacknowledged, but still somewhat present; a malcontent with what they had established so far-- the want for more. It would be perfectly appropriate for him to close the hair's breadth of a gap-- but he holds back, enjoying that freely given potential. He's unfamiliar with how the new steps work; the progression they've just made, outside of the familiar confines of their friendship-- but Erik is nothing if not solid in his convictions; in this as with everything, and he shifts again, gently pulling the other man towards him with an encouraging press against his flank. ] How long-- Charles--
[ He pauses, swallowing, expression still light, though-- this unexpected twisting of circumstances only encourages the slow smile he's been nursing. But he's also curious, wanting to pick apart-- to understand, above all, if Charles had been similarly trapped-- pinned between what seemed the right way of going about each other, and what he wished he could do. ] How long have you wanted to do that?
[ Erik cannot resist slipping an arm around the other's waist; because he's finally been given leave to do so-- and it's utterly novel, the willingness on Charles' part, and the pliancy. Turning his head, his mouth connects with the telepath's jaw-line, breath brushing along the column of his throat. ]
[ Charles shifts against Erik, settling so easily under the hold of his arm, almost frighteningly comfortable with the feel of it-- as if the two men were fitted pieces of a puzzle. The connection had long been there, mentally, drawing the two of them close-- the first spark had rattled Charles unlike anything else had before. These new touches came close, each shooting along his nerves, the heat of Erik's skin alerting him to every point of contact, every little movement. He knows he should be startled, worried even, by the way they mesh in these movements but all he can find is satisfaction in the quell of his wants. Erik has accepted his desires; that alone was a relief, but his reciprocation brought a warmth to his chest.
The question startles him out of his contentment, however faintly, because he hadn't honestly expected him to ask that of all things. He pushes down the anxious feelings and speaks, softer than before, ] For-- for some time now. I think the feeling had always been there, but I wasn't entirely sure what it was-- or maybe I didn't want to know-- but... I could always feel it, somewhere, whenever you were around.
Me too. [ There isn't much else of a confirmation needed, but the sincerity is in his face and the timbre of his voice; pitched low with honesty and Erik can't avoid slipping both arms around the telepath at the shared confession, head dipping to kiss his shoulder and breath in the mustiness of the cardigan that makes him seem so much older than he really is-- the clothing of a scholar, no parallel to the man that Erik's slowly coming to know here. He speaks into the fabric, ] The satellite dish, Charles, that's when it was clearest. [ No one knew him as Charles did; it is a comfortable kind of coexistence that is possible between them, without the pressure that would come with any other sort of relationship. He's uncertain if he's been given leave to take this further, but he threads his fingers through the loose strands of hair that curl against the telepath's neck, pausing to really look at him for a long second, warmth in every minute twitch of expression. ]
One of us should have said something sooner. [ An experimental tendril of thought is extended; just another added level of intimacy, broaching physical and skittering into the metaphysical. ]
[ The brush of warm breath, the surprising softness of his words, all of it draws him into Erik further and further. A little tip of his head, not much, just enough to let his cheek press to the side of Erik's temple. Lips ghosting the tops of his hair, watching them sway just a tad under the pressure of his own breath. Erik had a point, on the veranda when the two of them had been so in tune; when Erik had allowed him back inside, to those deeper, beautiful memories that the man had so neglected. He had felt that connection burn so strongly it had scared him a bit; in a way he supposed he should have been grateful to Moira for the interruption. ]
Yes, but perhaps we just weren't ready. [ Charles wasn't entirely sure he was ready yet, but he refused to back down, not when he had finally taken that stop forward. He want's Erik to know that much, at least, that he wont run or abandon him-- regardless of what he's done, what he wants to do, because it's so much deeper than that. He smiles, it's light but entirely sincere and brimming with affection he no longer had to hide. ]
[ A hand reaches up to hover against the other man's jaw, fingers experimentally tracing along the edge of it; the pale skin and the most miniscule signature of the blood beneath it-- he lifts his own head, bringing them face to face again, the shock of blue that Charles' eyes always hold for him; so exclusively focused on him alone now. Covetously, maybe, be looks back-- and leans forward, broaching the gap again to kiss the telepath, aware that this is entirely within his right now, in light of that confession. It's a dangerously intoxicating movement, and he knows that this will wound them both one day-- but he's too preoccupied with that mouth; fingers now twined in the sweater in order to bring Charles closer, to pull him in. Erik shifts backwards on the bed, breaking the kiss to allow the younger man up beside him, tongue running over his bottom lip.
He looks up, no answering smile-- just that grave affection; the smallest hint of a reflexive authority, even in this situation. ] Come here.
Of course, [ His words are soft, withdrawn, because while he can't pull away physically he can sink back into himself otherwise. He's never had a relationship quite like this-- not even the one he had developed with Raven-- something that had struck him so hard, so deeply and settled so close to the core of who he was. Someone he could fight with daily and still forgive in the evenings and yet-- and yet perhaps it was only him. Perhaps he was the only one who felt that pull-- at least so strongly; because there was undeniably something there; but perhaps it was not the same something for the both of them. The sound of the thudding he realized wasn't from some external source but the light echoing of his heartbeat against his ears. It wasn't painfully loud, not the same thrum of fear, but just enough to remind him of the constant constriction over his heart. ] Just--
[ There's a pause as his tone wavers, and he has to force some control down on himself. Charles wasn't the sort of person who could hide as easily as Erik; he was too open, too expressive, because his life had been run on drive and passion and for all of his science he wasn't a clinical man himself-- not entirely. Sure there were less than savory actions, but all for the greater good as far as he was concerned. Pushing to make things better for their kind, for them; to form some sort of secondary family-- and perhaps that's part of what has caused this leap on his part. The idea of a family they've formed themselves, the different ranks taken by each person, the places they've settled into with helping the children-- perhaps he's let it all lead him down the wrong path. A shallow puff of air as he tries to pull his wrist upward, ] If you'll let me go, I'll leave you to rest.
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The thrum of the other man’s pulse quickens beneath his fingers, and he does not loosen them yet, not wishing to force this, but unclear as how not to. On some level he knows this ought to be handled with delicacy, but he lacks the tact-- unschooled in how to receive that ebb and flow of another person’s-- mutant’s-- complex emotions. ]
Yes-- [ And he does let go now, albeit reluctantly. But, incongruously, the same hand extends towards the other man again, as if intended to catch the hem of his sweater. ] Charles, wait. [ Erik’s stoically intense attention is absolutely focused on the telepath, and still with that closed-off sense of gravitas. He moves, pushing forward to encroach now, one hand planted behind him, the other hovering uncertainly in the air between them. The warning in his own thoughts is silenced by the other man’s proximity; he has no business initiating something like this-- he’d hurt Charles, separate them, surely-- Shaw would take precedence, the mission-- but he’s driven to ignore it-- too drawn in to leave. ]
Look at me. [ It’s barely a request, though there is no strain of command; just a note of patience-- and he pauses understanding the need to reciprocate. ]
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Jaw muscles flex and tighten, visible just below his ear in a moment of tension when he's asked to return that steady gaze. He rarely runs from things, but he wants to escape this. Not that he can blame Erik, not even if he wanted to could he-- the man had hardly asked to be barged in on. Charles had just been working with what he felt, what he assumed Erik felt, and while he had promised to stay out of the man's mind it was a pestering thought because he had just wanted to know so badly. To not be alone in those feelings he was acutely aware were as abnormal as most everything else about him. He had never worried about these sort of sentiments before they had met, the rarest flicker of curiosity hardly more than a fleeting moment of distraction from his education or sister. Anything that might allude to something unusual about himself in this context easily dismissed as a biological norm, because there had been no real connection-- attraction-- there.
His chest sinks in, as if the air is being pushed from his lungs, and in some ways it is; the weight of his own thoughts and emotions pressing against his rib cage. He steadies his expression, managing something he hopes reads as studious before he actually does meet Erik's gaze. The hand used to prop himself up curling into the bed, winding the sheets between his fingers and bunching them with the tide that rocked within his chest. ] Erik, I-- I'm sorry.
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It may be bad for them both, but there's the smallest off chance that it will not be-- and he's one for risks, so planting a firm hand on the other man's jaw; bringing their faces within several inches of each other-- ] Don't you dare apologize for this.
[ Despite his usual seriousness, there's something light mingling with it-- because it's been slow to dawn that he actually wants this, the thawing security that even the smallest gesture from the telepath can bring him. Thumb tracing a slow line that follows the line of the other man's cheek, Erik's eyes dip back to the curved mouth-- leaning further forward and pressing their lips together a second time; but there's none of the earlier chasteness; it's a certain movement-- and his fingers slip back to wind in the just-slightly overlong strands that frame Charles' face; the pads of his fingers dragging against the scalp. There's an ache of surety; and his mouth moves against the telepath's; deepening the contact and tugging him just barely closer. ]
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When Erik leans in he doesn't entirely believe it till their lips are touching again. It was then he decides to just let go. Leaning forward a little he returns the kiss, he wanted that feeling again. Even if the frightened part of his mind, the one that always clung so tightly to the relationships he made in his life, worried briefly it wasn't entirely out of affection. That it was pity. But the logical part of his mind squashed it rather quickly, Erik wasn't the sort of man to do things out of pity, not even for Charles. The press of Erik's fingers only seemed to encourage him, his fingers slipping up from the bed where he had nearly crushed the feeling out of them with his grip. His hand doesn't grip onto Erik, worried about pushing the boundaries he had just remade when he crossed the last ones. Instead his fingers splay against Erik's chest, just gently pressing against him, feeling the warmth of his skin through fabric. ]
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[ Sobering, he doesn’t move to kiss Charles again, just holds their position-- close enough to broach the divide all too easily; one hand carding through the strands of hair, pushing them back just a little roughly. ]
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He came to realize after some introspection and careful review of his own thoughts and behaviors that perhaps it was latent-- in a way. His attraction was generally limited to Erik, and Erik alone. He had seen all of the man, his pain and his brilliance alike, and found himself nearly consumed for it. It wasn't why he leapt from the boat; no, he did that to save a life. But the fervor in which he tried to make a mark on Erik, to stake a claim in his life, that had not been solely for the mission and he knew that much now when they sat so close. He can feel the warm brush of Erik's breath and he lets out a dry chuckle, voice dipping lower, ] Mmm-- Surprise. [ His eyes slip closed momentarily, his head tipping to the side and toward Erik's hand just enough to earn more contact without pulling away. Rarely did he let anyone touch his hair, and the touch starved nerves are set alight just by the simple contact. ]
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[ He pauses, swallowing, expression still light, though-- this unexpected twisting of circumstances only encourages the slow smile he's been nursing. But he's also curious, wanting to pick apart-- to understand, above all, if Charles had been similarly trapped-- pinned between what seemed the right way of going about each other, and what he wished he could do. ] How long have you wanted to do that?
[ Erik cannot resist slipping an arm around the other's waist; because he's finally been given leave to do so-- and it's utterly novel, the willingness on Charles' part, and the pliancy. Turning his head, his mouth connects with the telepath's jaw-line, breath brushing along the column of his throat. ]
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The question startles him out of his contentment, however faintly, because he hadn't honestly expected him to ask that of all things. He pushes down the anxious feelings and speaks, softer than before, ] For-- for some time now. I think the feeling had always been there, but I wasn't entirely sure what it was-- or maybe I didn't want to know-- but... I could always feel it, somewhere, whenever you were around.
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One of us should have said something sooner. [ An experimental tendril of thought is extended; just another added level of intimacy, broaching physical and skittering into the metaphysical. ]
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Yes, but perhaps we just weren't ready. [ Charles wasn't entirely sure he was ready yet, but he refused to back down, not when he had finally taken that stop forward. He want's Erik to know that much, at least, that he wont run or abandon him-- regardless of what he's done, what he wants to do, because it's so much deeper than that. He smiles, it's light but entirely sincere and brimming with affection he no longer had to hide. ]
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He looks up, no answering smile-- just that grave affection; the smallest hint of a reflexive authority, even in this situation. ] Come here.
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