fic: When two people become one (is it real now?)
Title: When two people become one (is it real now?)
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Rating: PG-13
Word count: approx. 4,100
Summary: Erik decides to purchase a mail-order bride to help around the house. He's expecting a pretty little blonde woman or something, but what he gets is Charles Xavier.
A/N: modern day, non-mutant au written for this prompt at 1stclass_kink. I've been meaning to write this au in which Erik is a scary corporate executive and Charles is super-secretary from the stars but I got stuck, so I decided to trawl through the kink meme instead, and then I saw the phrase "mail order bride" and this fic practically wrote itself. this has turned out to be the most ridiculous, fluffy, self-indulgent thing I have ever written and I probably totally deviated from the prompt and I am so not sorry.
title borrowed from Empire of the Sun
ETA: now translated into Chinese, courtesy of lyrajr! read it here!
Erik isn’t sure why this ever seemed like a good idea.
Maybe he was drunk, Erik thinks. Maybe he was so tired that he felt drunk. Maybe he was tired and drunk and Alex and Sean were being particularly infuriating that night and it’d been a moment of weakness. Whatever it was, he can’t take it back now, because there’s a man standing on his doorstep, suitcase in hand, and he’s smiling at Erik like Erik should know exactly who he is.
“Hello,” the man says in a crisp British accent. “My name is Charles Xavier. I’m your bride.”
---
“You bought a mail-order bride?” Emma exclaims incredulously when he tells her what he’s done. “Why?”
Erik sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he says, exasperated. “I guess I just thought it’d be nice to have someone help around the house, and it’s not like I have time to date or anything.”
“You say ‘date’ like it’s an ugly word,” Emma scoffs. “It’s not so hard to do things the normal way, you know.”
Erik shrugs. “Well it’s a done deal now,” he says. “He arrived the other day.”
“You could always send him back. I’m sure they have a return policy or something,” Emma says reasonably. And then she frowns. “Wait. He?”
---
“This place is a mess,” is the first thing Charles says when he steps into the house.
Erik looks around. While he supposes the house isn’t as tidy as it could be, he’s never considered it absolutely terrible. He is, after all, a busy man and he does take care of two teenaged boys. It’s only natural that there are random books and jackets strewn all over the place, dirty dishes sitting forgotten in the kitchen sink or on the coffee table, video games left scattered about. It certainly could be much worse, and Erik is about to say as much, but of course that’s then that Alex and Sean come crashing down the stairs, drawn by the sound of the doorbell.
“Who’s this?” Alex asks.
And before Erik can even think to get a word in, Charles replies, “I’m Charles, your father’s new husband. Or should I say wife? My title is mail-order bride, after all.” Charles looks to Erik and asks, “Did you want to be the missus? No, no, never mind, that won’t do. You’re rubbish at housekeeping. Just look at the state of this house.” And then Charles looks back to the boys and says very seriously, “Call me mum, though, and I’ll kill you. I promise I know how.”
Alex grins, and Sean bursts out laughing.
“I like him,” Alex announces. “Can we keep him?”
---
They do end up keeping Charles, if only because Erik would feel weird about sending him back. Charles ends up taking the empty guest bedroom, insisting he doesn’t want to impose on Erik.
“It’s fine, really,” Charles says easily as he begins unpacking his things. “I can tell you still feel a bit strange about this whole thing.”
And Erik doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just nods and says, “Right. I’ll just… leave you to it, then.”
Charles tosses Erik a grin. “Fantastic,” he says.
And Erik has to admit that, weirdness of this situation aside, Charles is quite pretty when he smiles, and he thinks, maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
---
When Erik returns from work the next day, after picking up the boys from their various sports practices, Charles is bustling about the kitchen. The house smells warm with the scent of something delicious, but that’s not what makes all three of them freeze in their tracks as soon as they walk into the house.
“Holy shit,” Alex says. “This place is clean.”
And it is. The entire house is absolutely spotless. All clothes have been tidied away and the books are sitting on bookshelves (“I didn’t know we had bookshelves,” Sean says. “Where did those come from?”) and the dirty dishes have disappeared.
“If you’d like to know how you can thank me, you can take off those shoes by the door and not get mud all over my floor. I just cleaned, you know,” Charles says, poking his head out from the kitchen.
“Your floor?” Erik snaps, kicking off his shoes. His tone is perhaps a little too harsh, but he had a rough day at work and his head is killing him and he only got about three hours of sleep the night before thanks to his insomnia, so he has every right to be a little grumpy.
Charles sniffs. “Yes, my floor,” he says indignantly. “What’s yours is mine now, darling, whether you like it or not.”
Erik’s jaw twitches at the endearment.
“Speaking of which,” Charles continues, ducking swiftly back into the kitchen, “I’ll need to borrow your credit card tomorrow. There is no food in this house.”
Erik frowns as he walks into the kitchen. “There’s food,” he says. “There’s plenty of food.”
Charles gives Erik a very pointed look. “You call microwave dinners food?” he asks. “It’s disgusting.”
“It’s perfectly fine,” Erik insists, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“For you, maybe,” Charles says, going back to his cooking. “But in case you’ve forgotten, you care for two growing boys. They need proper meals.”
Erik grumbles to himself under his breath and goes to find the Advil because he feels like his head is about to split in two. Erik swallows two pills and rubs at his temples in hopes of relieving the heavy weight of his headache. When he glances back up, Charles is frowning at him worriedly. Erik notices for the first time how very blue Charles’ eyes are. It’s a very lovely shade of blue.
“Look,” Charles says, gentler now, softer. “I just want to go out and buy some fresh fruit and vegetables, alright? Is that so bad?”
Erik sighs. “Fine,” he agrees. “Fine, whatever. Just don’t spend too much.”
Charles smiles. “Of course, dear.”
---
Charles ends up buying about ten full bags worth of groceries.
“Are you serious?” Erik exclaims.
Charles shrugs. “It’s appalling how many of the basic essentials you’re lacking,” he says.
Erik reaches into a nearby bag. “All purpose flour,” he reads. “What do we need flour for?”
“I thought I’d make pie,” Charles says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He looks to Alex and Sean. “What kind of pie do you boys like?”
Alex and Sean’s faces light up and it’s then that Erik realizes he’s fighting a battle he can’t win (in hindsight, he probably should have expected as much; after all, the easiest way to a teenager’s heart is by offering food and Charles is a fantastic cook).
---
The pie, of course, is delicious.
“Oh my god,” Sean groans when he takes the first bite of his slice. “Oh my god, Charles you are never allowed to leave us, ever. This is amazing.”
Alex mumbles his assent around a mouthful of pie, effectively spraying crumbs all over the kitchen table.
“That’s disgusting,” Erik snaps.
Charles smiles and catches Erik’s eye from across the table. He winks, and Erik just shakes his head.
---
When Charles walks into the kitchen one night at three in the morning, he startles Erik so badly that Erik drops the cup he’s holding and it shatters on the floor. Charles’ eyes go wide and he slaps a hand over his mouth.
“Oh!” he exclaims and rushes around for some paper towels to clean up the mess.
“Be careful,” Erik hisses as he helps Charles pick up the broken pieces of the cup. “There’s glass everywhere.”
“I’m sorry,” Charles offers quietly after they get the mess cleaned up. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was only coming to get some water.”
Erik scrubs a hand over his face and rubs his eyes tiredly. “It’s fine,” he says.
Charles is quiet for a moment, fiddling with a loose thread on his shirt. “You couldn’t sleep?” he asks.
Erik shrugs. “Insomnia,” he says simply.
Charles frowns and nods before rummaging through the cabinets for something. He pulls out a container of honey and goes to get some milk from the refrigerator.
“There was this one man I married,” Charles says as he bustles about the kitchen. “He had a little girl who was about five years old who always had a hard time falling asleep. So I made her warm milk and honey every night before bed. It helped, I think.” Charles pauses pensively and says, mostly to himself, “I wonder how she’s doing now.”
Erik furrows his eyebrows at Charles. “How many times have you been married?” he asks.
Charles snaps out of his reverie and says cheerily, “This time is the fourth.” He hands Erik a cup full of sweet, steaming milk.
Erik takes the cup but doesn’t drink. “Does it bother you?” he asks.
Charles shrugs. “It is what it is,” he says. “I’m used to it by now. Mail-order brides are always more of a joke or a temporary fix than anything. I don’t expect people to keep me around for long. I mean, how likely is it that I’ll actually be compatible with someone I get assigned to randomly?”
Erik just stares. Charles’ skin looks pale and delicate in the moonlight. Charles gestures to Erik’s cup.
“Drink your milk,” Charles says before leaving to return to his bedroom. “It should help. I’m told it’s very calming.”
---
“We should take the kids somewhere fun,” Charles says one morning over breakfast.
“What?” Erik asks. “Why?”
Charles gives Erik a look. “They have a long weekend coming up,” he says. “We should take a family trip. Maybe to the beach.”
And really, it’s early in the morning and Erik’s only just got up, so he doesn’t really have the energy to protest, and that’s why, five days later, he finds himself at the beach under the sweltering sun, watching as Alex and Sean run off towards the water. Erik sighs and settles down on his beach towel, getting out a book he’d brought to read.
“Be careful!” Charles calls after the kids before sitting down as well. He glances over at Erik. “Aren’t you worried about them?”
“They’re sixteen, Charles,” Erik says, not looking up from his book. “They’re plenty capable of taking care of themselves.”
Charles huffs and continues watching the boys with a concerned eye, but he doesn’t say anything more on the subject. Instead:
“Can you do my back?”
Erik looks up, startled. His pulse is suddenly pounding in his ears. “What?”
Charles is holding out a tube of sunscreen out to Erik. “I burn like a lobster,” he explains. “I’d rather not be bright red for the next two weeks, if you don’t mind.”
Erik just nods mutely and takes the sunscreen from Charles, wondering why his mind went there. Charles lifts his shirt up over his head and folds it neatly before putting it in his beach bag. Erik swallows thickly. Charles is lovely, slightly toned muscles under an expanse of fair, flawless skin, a light dusting of freckles scattering over his shoulders. Charles peeks at Erik over his shoulder.
“Erik?” he asks, perfectly oblivious to how much Erik suddenly finds himself wanting to run his mouth over Charles’ bare skin. “Are you alright?”
Erik blinks. “Yeah,” he says, too quickly, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
And he tries his hardest not to focus too much on how soft Charles’ skin feels under his hands as he rubs the sunscreen into Charles’ back, and it works, but only halfway. Charles smiles softly at Erik when he’s done and Erik feels a strange thrum just under his skin.
“Thank you,” Charles says quietly.
Erik lets his hands linger on Charles’ skin for maybe too long, and maybe Erik leans in a little too close, and Charles just looks at him with wide eyes and doesn’t do anything to stop him. And it’s like there’s some strange electrical force drawing him towards Charles, and all Erik can think is oh god, I really want to kiss him.
And then Alex and Sean come running over, startling them both, and they drag Erik up so they can throw him in the ocean. Erik lands with a big splash and when he looks up, Alex and Sean are cheering and celebrating their victory over Erik, and Charles is laughing. He’s laughing and laughing and laughing, and Erik doesn’t think he’s seen anything lovelier.
So he goes over and throws Charles into the ocean too.
---
“You so love him,” Emma says over tea when she comes over to visit.
Erik frowns. “I think you have to really know someone to love them,” he says. “Charles has only been here a few months.”
Emma shrugs, unfazed. “But you like him,” she says. It’s not a question.
“So?”
“You hate people,” Emma says. “And you’re happy.”
She says this like it’s some sort of miracle.
“I’ve always been happy,” Erik insists.
“No,” Emma argues. “You’ve been content. There’s a difference, you know.”
Erik stares very hard at her. “Remind me why I’m friends with you again,” he says. “All you ever do is disagree with me.”
Emma just smiles into her cup.
---
“We need to go shopping.”
Erik looks up from the newspaper. “Sorry?” he says. It’s Saturday. Saturday is his day to relax and unwind. Saturday is definitely not meant for shopping.
“We’re going to IKEA today,” Charles says very resolutely. Erik can tell he’s not going to have a say in this decision.
Erik takes a bite of his toast. “Why?” he asks.
Charles sighs and crosses his arms. “Because,” he says, “Alex is too tall for his bed and Sean’s dresser drawers are broken and they both need new comforters.”
“Why ‘we’?” Erik asks.
“They’re your children,” Charles huffs.
“What happened to ‘what’s yours is mine now, darling’?” Erik says in a horrible imitation of Charles’ accent. But he ends up going anyways, mostly out of fear that Charles will be tempted to buy the entire store if Erik doesn’t accompany him.
---
There are reasons why Erik doesn’t like going to IKEA, the most important of which is because the entire store is constructed like a maze. He can never find his way around the place and he ends up wasting too much time just trying to find the exit and it’s really just a huge headache waiting to happen. But Charles loves it, and he peers around at all the furniture, asking Erik which one he thinks is best.
“I don’t know,” Erik says in exasperation. “I’m no expert.”
Charles frowns at Erik. “Fine,” he says. “If you’re going to be that way.”
And then he walks off to find an employee to help him choose. Erik waits awkwardly while Charles talks animatedly with the employee, watching as the employee points out the aspects of each bed, and Erik is just about bored out of his mind until he notices the way the employee is standing a little too close for comfort, grinning and flirting as Charles smiles and nods along, completely oblivious as always. Erik feels something ugly clench in his chest and before he can even think about it, he’s storming over with long, purposeful strides. He slides an arm possessively around Charles’ waist, smirking at the way the employee’s expression darkens.
“Oh!” Charles exclaims, looking up at Erik with wide blue eyes.
“Are we done here?” Erik asks.
Charles grins. “Oh, yes,” he says and the turns back to the IKEA employee. “Thank you ever so much for your help.”
Charles giggles as they walk away and bumps his hip against Erik’s. Erik frowns.
“What?”
Charles giggles again. It’s a very pretty sound.
“I never pegged you as the jealous type,” Charles teases.
Erik scowls and drops his hand from where it’s been resting at the small of Charles’ back. Charles grins like his point has been proven.
“It’s just weird seeing someone flirt with my husband, okay?” Erik grumbles.
Charles pauses and gives Erik a cryptic look, his smile suddenly gone. “You do realize we’re only married on paper,” Charles says. “I’m really no more than a glorified maid. Though I do suppose it would be morally dubious to sleep with your maid.”
Erik chokes on his own saliva. “What?” he says. He can feel his pulse racing again.
Charles doesn’t seem to have heard him. “What about that bed?” he asks, pointing. “Do you think Alex would like that one?”
---
On the way home, Erik drives fast and leaves the windows rolled down. The wind whips through Charles hair, making him look wild and carefree. Charles looks at Erik and his eyes are so, so blue.
They laugh.
---
Charles squints at the assembly instructions before them, confusion etched onto his face. They’re attempting to put together the new furniture they’ve bought, but as it turns out, as wonderful as Charles is with housework, he’s terrible at this.
“These instructions make no sense,” Charles says, frustrated. He glares at the instruction paper like it’s personally offended him.
“They make perfect sense,” Erik says, holding his hand out. “Here, let me see.”
Charles thrusts the instructions over to Erik and crosses his arms, watching as Erik slowly begins to assemble Sean’s new dresser. Alex and Sean are out hanging out with their friends this afternoon and the house is quiet for once. It’s nice. It doesn’t happen often.
“You know, it’s kind of nice having you do some of the work around the house,” Charles says. He sounds very pleased and maybe a little smug. “We might be married, but I can’t do all the work all the time.”
Erik grins. “You do realize we’re only married on paper,” Erik parrots.
Charles suddenly goes quiet, his expression falling into something thoughtful. “Right,” he says, and then stands. “You take care of this, then. I have no idea what to do.”
And then he leaves, and it’s not until Erik has finished putting together both Sean’s new dresser and Alex’s new bed that Erik figures out what the uneasy feeling swimming around in his stomach means.
Oh.
Oh.
---
Erik finds Charles in the kitchen, baking, because Charles bakes when he’s trying to think. In the couple hours it took for Erik to assemble everything, Charles has managed to cover every available surface in scones and muffins and cookies and at least ten different kinds of pie. Erik whistles.
“Would you look at this,” Erik says, breaking off a piece of cookie and popping it in his mouth. “We could start a bakery.”
Charles is currently whisking something that could be cake batter or icing or something else altogether and he’s got flour in his hair and he doesn’t look at Erik when he speaks.
“You could send me back, you know,” Charles says. “If you’re tired of me. I understand if you are. It happens.”
Erik blinks, taken aback.
“I mean, I get it,” Charles rambles on. “I nag too much and I fuss about everything and people get annoyed with me. I won’t be offended if you want to divorce me. It’s perfectly reasonable.”
And then Erik steps over to Charles and cups Charles’ face in his hands and kisses him. It’s a brief, light kiss, but has the desired effect of shutting Charles up, and when Erik pulls away, Charles is staring at him with wide eyes.
“You’re not going anywhere, you idiot,” Erik says, and kisses Charles again, properly this time, and Charles positively melts.
“Is it bad,” Charles pants between kisses, “Is it bad that I really want to fuck you against the kitchen counter right now?”
Erik growls low in his throat and slams their mouths back together. They have so much lost time to make up for.
---
“This is ridiculous.”
Erik is sitting on the floor in the middle of their kitchen, Charles settled comfortably between his legs with a bowl of cream cheese frosting in his lap. Their clothes are scattered about and the whole kitchen is a complete mess, and Charles is trying to be indignant as they take turns feeding each other frosting.
“This is completely and utterly ridiculous,” Charles says.
“Mm,” Erik hums, licking icing off of Charles’ fingers.
“I’m twenty-seven and I’ve been married four times and this is absolutely the most ridiculous thing I have ever done,” Charles goes on.
“Of course it is,” Erik murmurs, pressing his lips to the curve of Charles’ neck.
“What if the children come home and see us like this?” Charles says. “What will they think? What if-?”
Erik nips at Charles’ pale skin, and Charles lets out a startled yelp.
“Charles, would you do something for me?” Erik says.
“Yes?” Charles’ eyes are wide and guileless and the bluest blue, and Erik is overcome with the desire to keep him forever.
“Shut up,” Erik says, and then kisses Charles again.
Charles makes a soft, pleased sound at the back of his throat and pushes the frosting bowl aside so he can straddle Erik’s lap.
---
The next morning, it’s like nothing has changed, except for that Erik is awoken in the morning by Charles wiggling out of Erik’s arms to get out of bed, instead of just his alarm waking him up in his bed alone.
“Go back to sleep,” Charles says, pressing a kiss to Erik’s forehead. “I’m just going to get breakfast started for the kids.”
Erik mumbles sleepily and turns his face back into the pillow. It smells like Charles. Erik hears Charles patter around the room getting dressed for the day before his footsteps fade down the stairs to the kitchen.
Erik wakes up properly some thirty or forty minutes later. He stumbles into the kitchen in his usual half-asleep, half-awake manner, and Charles smiles to him as he slides a plate of chocolate chip pancakes over to Sean.
“Good morning,” Charles smiles, in good spirits as usual.
“Morning,” Erik murmurs, sleepily leaning over to press a kiss to Charles’ mouth.
“There’s coffee,” Charles says, gesturing in the general direction of the coffee maker.
Erik mumbles something that sounds vaguely like thank you and goes to pour himself a cup.
“I was just making pancakes,” Charles continues. “Did you want chocolate chips in yours?”
Erik just grunts and takes a sip of his coffee. Charles shakes his head fondly and turns back to the stove. When Erik looks up from his coffee, Alex and Sean are staring at him incredulously.
“What?” he snaps. He’s so not awake enough to deal with their weirdness right now.
“Did… did something happen between you guys?” Sean asks hesitantly.
Erik frowns. “What do you mean?” he asks.
“You seem… different,” Sean says.
Erik narrows his eyes at them. There’s a pause, and then:
“Darling,” Charles says over his shoulder as he makes pancakes for the two of them. As usual, he’s completely oblivious to the tension in the room. “Later would you help me move the rest of my things into your room?”
Sean chokes on his breakfast and Alex’s eyes widen.
“Holy shit,” Alex says.
“What?” Erik snaps again.
Charles turns around with a confused expression on his face, finally catching on that there’s something going on around him.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?” Alex hisses.
“Please,” Sean says around coughs. “Please tell me you didn’t have sex in this kitchen.”
Charles’ eyes widen and he flushes a deep red. Erik snorts and takes a casual sip of his coffee.
“Oh my god,” Sean says and flees the room.
“Seriously?” Alex exclaims. “You have a bedroom.”
Erik shrugs. “Don’t be boring,” he says.
Alex pulls a face. “Ugh, guys, really?” he says. “I mean, I love you both but we eat here.”
Charles shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and his face is still bright red. Alex picks up his plate and leaves, probably to comfort Sean. Charles watches him leave worriedly.
“Will they be okay?” Charles asks. “They looked a bit distressed.”
“Of course they are,” Erik says, sliding an arm around Charles’ waist. “It’s always weird to think about your parents having sex.”
Charles bites his lip, forehead creased. “Don’t you think we should go talk to them or something?” he asks, concerned.
“Nah,” Erik says. “They’re resilient. They’ll bounce back.”
Charles still looks worried, so Erik leans in to kiss the look off his face, and Charles huffs irritably against Erik’s lips.
“That won’t work every time, you know,” Charles says, an adorable pout upon his face. “You can’t just distract me with kisses whenever you like.”
“Noted,” Erik says, and then kisses him again.
And really, it’s all very, very romantic.
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Rating: PG-13
Word count: approx. 4,100
Summary: Erik decides to purchase a mail-order bride to help around the house. He's expecting a pretty little blonde woman or something, but what he gets is Charles Xavier.
A/N: modern day, non-mutant au written for this prompt at 1stclass_kink. I've been meaning to write this au in which Erik is a scary corporate executive and Charles is super-secretary from the stars but I got stuck, so I decided to trawl through the kink meme instead, and then I saw the phrase "mail order bride" and this fic practically wrote itself. this has turned out to be the most ridiculous, fluffy, self-indulgent thing I have ever written and I probably totally deviated from the prompt and I am so not sorry.
title borrowed from Empire of the Sun
ETA: now translated into Chinese, courtesy of lyrajr! read it here!
Erik isn’t sure why this ever seemed like a good idea.
Maybe he was drunk, Erik thinks. Maybe he was so tired that he felt drunk. Maybe he was tired and drunk and Alex and Sean were being particularly infuriating that night and it’d been a moment of weakness. Whatever it was, he can’t take it back now, because there’s a man standing on his doorstep, suitcase in hand, and he’s smiling at Erik like Erik should know exactly who he is.
“Hello,” the man says in a crisp British accent. “My name is Charles Xavier. I’m your bride.”
---
“You bought a mail-order bride?” Emma exclaims incredulously when he tells her what he’s done. “Why?”
Erik sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he says, exasperated. “I guess I just thought it’d be nice to have someone help around the house, and it’s not like I have time to date or anything.”
“You say ‘date’ like it’s an ugly word,” Emma scoffs. “It’s not so hard to do things the normal way, you know.”
Erik shrugs. “Well it’s a done deal now,” he says. “He arrived the other day.”
“You could always send him back. I’m sure they have a return policy or something,” Emma says reasonably. And then she frowns. “Wait. He?”
---
“This place is a mess,” is the first thing Charles says when he steps into the house.
Erik looks around. While he supposes the house isn’t as tidy as it could be, he’s never considered it absolutely terrible. He is, after all, a busy man and he does take care of two teenaged boys. It’s only natural that there are random books and jackets strewn all over the place, dirty dishes sitting forgotten in the kitchen sink or on the coffee table, video games left scattered about. It certainly could be much worse, and Erik is about to say as much, but of course that’s then that Alex and Sean come crashing down the stairs, drawn by the sound of the doorbell.
“Who’s this?” Alex asks.
And before Erik can even think to get a word in, Charles replies, “I’m Charles, your father’s new husband. Or should I say wife? My title is mail-order bride, after all.” Charles looks to Erik and asks, “Did you want to be the missus? No, no, never mind, that won’t do. You’re rubbish at housekeeping. Just look at the state of this house.” And then Charles looks back to the boys and says very seriously, “Call me mum, though, and I’ll kill you. I promise I know how.”
Alex grins, and Sean bursts out laughing.
“I like him,” Alex announces. “Can we keep him?”
---
They do end up keeping Charles, if only because Erik would feel weird about sending him back. Charles ends up taking the empty guest bedroom, insisting he doesn’t want to impose on Erik.
“It’s fine, really,” Charles says easily as he begins unpacking his things. “I can tell you still feel a bit strange about this whole thing.”
And Erik doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just nods and says, “Right. I’ll just… leave you to it, then.”
Charles tosses Erik a grin. “Fantastic,” he says.
And Erik has to admit that, weirdness of this situation aside, Charles is quite pretty when he smiles, and he thinks, maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
---
When Erik returns from work the next day, after picking up the boys from their various sports practices, Charles is bustling about the kitchen. The house smells warm with the scent of something delicious, but that’s not what makes all three of them freeze in their tracks as soon as they walk into the house.
“Holy shit,” Alex says. “This place is clean.”
And it is. The entire house is absolutely spotless. All clothes have been tidied away and the books are sitting on bookshelves (“I didn’t know we had bookshelves,” Sean says. “Where did those come from?”) and the dirty dishes have disappeared.
“If you’d like to know how you can thank me, you can take off those shoes by the door and not get mud all over my floor. I just cleaned, you know,” Charles says, poking his head out from the kitchen.
“Your floor?” Erik snaps, kicking off his shoes. His tone is perhaps a little too harsh, but he had a rough day at work and his head is killing him and he only got about three hours of sleep the night before thanks to his insomnia, so he has every right to be a little grumpy.
Charles sniffs. “Yes, my floor,” he says indignantly. “What’s yours is mine now, darling, whether you like it or not.”
Erik’s jaw twitches at the endearment.
“Speaking of which,” Charles continues, ducking swiftly back into the kitchen, “I’ll need to borrow your credit card tomorrow. There is no food in this house.”
Erik frowns as he walks into the kitchen. “There’s food,” he says. “There’s plenty of food.”
Charles gives Erik a very pointed look. “You call microwave dinners food?” he asks. “It’s disgusting.”
“It’s perfectly fine,” Erik insists, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“For you, maybe,” Charles says, going back to his cooking. “But in case you’ve forgotten, you care for two growing boys. They need proper meals.”
Erik grumbles to himself under his breath and goes to find the Advil because he feels like his head is about to split in two. Erik swallows two pills and rubs at his temples in hopes of relieving the heavy weight of his headache. When he glances back up, Charles is frowning at him worriedly. Erik notices for the first time how very blue Charles’ eyes are. It’s a very lovely shade of blue.
“Look,” Charles says, gentler now, softer. “I just want to go out and buy some fresh fruit and vegetables, alright? Is that so bad?”
Erik sighs. “Fine,” he agrees. “Fine, whatever. Just don’t spend too much.”
Charles smiles. “Of course, dear.”
---
Charles ends up buying about ten full bags worth of groceries.
“Are you serious?” Erik exclaims.
Charles shrugs. “It’s appalling how many of the basic essentials you’re lacking,” he says.
Erik reaches into a nearby bag. “All purpose flour,” he reads. “What do we need flour for?”
“I thought I’d make pie,” Charles says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He looks to Alex and Sean. “What kind of pie do you boys like?”
Alex and Sean’s faces light up and it’s then that Erik realizes he’s fighting a battle he can’t win (in hindsight, he probably should have expected as much; after all, the easiest way to a teenager’s heart is by offering food and Charles is a fantastic cook).
---
The pie, of course, is delicious.
“Oh my god,” Sean groans when he takes the first bite of his slice. “Oh my god, Charles you are never allowed to leave us, ever. This is amazing.”
Alex mumbles his assent around a mouthful of pie, effectively spraying crumbs all over the kitchen table.
“That’s disgusting,” Erik snaps.
Charles smiles and catches Erik’s eye from across the table. He winks, and Erik just shakes his head.
---
When Charles walks into the kitchen one night at three in the morning, he startles Erik so badly that Erik drops the cup he’s holding and it shatters on the floor. Charles’ eyes go wide and he slaps a hand over his mouth.
“Oh!” he exclaims and rushes around for some paper towels to clean up the mess.
“Be careful,” Erik hisses as he helps Charles pick up the broken pieces of the cup. “There’s glass everywhere.”
“I’m sorry,” Charles offers quietly after they get the mess cleaned up. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was only coming to get some water.”
Erik scrubs a hand over his face and rubs his eyes tiredly. “It’s fine,” he says.
Charles is quiet for a moment, fiddling with a loose thread on his shirt. “You couldn’t sleep?” he asks.
Erik shrugs. “Insomnia,” he says simply.
Charles frowns and nods before rummaging through the cabinets for something. He pulls out a container of honey and goes to get some milk from the refrigerator.
“There was this one man I married,” Charles says as he bustles about the kitchen. “He had a little girl who was about five years old who always had a hard time falling asleep. So I made her warm milk and honey every night before bed. It helped, I think.” Charles pauses pensively and says, mostly to himself, “I wonder how she’s doing now.”
Erik furrows his eyebrows at Charles. “How many times have you been married?” he asks.
Charles snaps out of his reverie and says cheerily, “This time is the fourth.” He hands Erik a cup full of sweet, steaming milk.
Erik takes the cup but doesn’t drink. “Does it bother you?” he asks.
Charles shrugs. “It is what it is,” he says. “I’m used to it by now. Mail-order brides are always more of a joke or a temporary fix than anything. I don’t expect people to keep me around for long. I mean, how likely is it that I’ll actually be compatible with someone I get assigned to randomly?”
Erik just stares. Charles’ skin looks pale and delicate in the moonlight. Charles gestures to Erik’s cup.
“Drink your milk,” Charles says before leaving to return to his bedroom. “It should help. I’m told it’s very calming.”
---
“We should take the kids somewhere fun,” Charles says one morning over breakfast.
“What?” Erik asks. “Why?”
Charles gives Erik a look. “They have a long weekend coming up,” he says. “We should take a family trip. Maybe to the beach.”
And really, it’s early in the morning and Erik’s only just got up, so he doesn’t really have the energy to protest, and that’s why, five days later, he finds himself at the beach under the sweltering sun, watching as Alex and Sean run off towards the water. Erik sighs and settles down on his beach towel, getting out a book he’d brought to read.
“Be careful!” Charles calls after the kids before sitting down as well. He glances over at Erik. “Aren’t you worried about them?”
“They’re sixteen, Charles,” Erik says, not looking up from his book. “They’re plenty capable of taking care of themselves.”
Charles huffs and continues watching the boys with a concerned eye, but he doesn’t say anything more on the subject. Instead:
“Can you do my back?”
Erik looks up, startled. His pulse is suddenly pounding in his ears. “What?”
Charles is holding out a tube of sunscreen out to Erik. “I burn like a lobster,” he explains. “I’d rather not be bright red for the next two weeks, if you don’t mind.”
Erik just nods mutely and takes the sunscreen from Charles, wondering why his mind went there. Charles lifts his shirt up over his head and folds it neatly before putting it in his beach bag. Erik swallows thickly. Charles is lovely, slightly toned muscles under an expanse of fair, flawless skin, a light dusting of freckles scattering over his shoulders. Charles peeks at Erik over his shoulder.
“Erik?” he asks, perfectly oblivious to how much Erik suddenly finds himself wanting to run his mouth over Charles’ bare skin. “Are you alright?”
Erik blinks. “Yeah,” he says, too quickly, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
And he tries his hardest not to focus too much on how soft Charles’ skin feels under his hands as he rubs the sunscreen into Charles’ back, and it works, but only halfway. Charles smiles softly at Erik when he’s done and Erik feels a strange thrum just under his skin.
“Thank you,” Charles says quietly.
Erik lets his hands linger on Charles’ skin for maybe too long, and maybe Erik leans in a little too close, and Charles just looks at him with wide eyes and doesn’t do anything to stop him. And it’s like there’s some strange electrical force drawing him towards Charles, and all Erik can think is oh god, I really want to kiss him.
And then Alex and Sean come running over, startling them both, and they drag Erik up so they can throw him in the ocean. Erik lands with a big splash and when he looks up, Alex and Sean are cheering and celebrating their victory over Erik, and Charles is laughing. He’s laughing and laughing and laughing, and Erik doesn’t think he’s seen anything lovelier.
So he goes over and throws Charles into the ocean too.
---
“You so love him,” Emma says over tea when she comes over to visit.
Erik frowns. “I think you have to really know someone to love them,” he says. “Charles has only been here a few months.”
Emma shrugs, unfazed. “But you like him,” she says. It’s not a question.
“So?”
“You hate people,” Emma says. “And you’re happy.”
She says this like it’s some sort of miracle.
“I’ve always been happy,” Erik insists.
“No,” Emma argues. “You’ve been content. There’s a difference, you know.”
Erik stares very hard at her. “Remind me why I’m friends with you again,” he says. “All you ever do is disagree with me.”
Emma just smiles into her cup.
---
“We need to go shopping.”
Erik looks up from the newspaper. “Sorry?” he says. It’s Saturday. Saturday is his day to relax and unwind. Saturday is definitely not meant for shopping.
“We’re going to IKEA today,” Charles says very resolutely. Erik can tell he’s not going to have a say in this decision.
Erik takes a bite of his toast. “Why?” he asks.
Charles sighs and crosses his arms. “Because,” he says, “Alex is too tall for his bed and Sean’s dresser drawers are broken and they both need new comforters.”
“Why ‘we’?” Erik asks.
“They’re your children,” Charles huffs.
“What happened to ‘what’s yours is mine now, darling’?” Erik says in a horrible imitation of Charles’ accent. But he ends up going anyways, mostly out of fear that Charles will be tempted to buy the entire store if Erik doesn’t accompany him.
---
There are reasons why Erik doesn’t like going to IKEA, the most important of which is because the entire store is constructed like a maze. He can never find his way around the place and he ends up wasting too much time just trying to find the exit and it’s really just a huge headache waiting to happen. But Charles loves it, and he peers around at all the furniture, asking Erik which one he thinks is best.
“I don’t know,” Erik says in exasperation. “I’m no expert.”
Charles frowns at Erik. “Fine,” he says. “If you’re going to be that way.”
And then he walks off to find an employee to help him choose. Erik waits awkwardly while Charles talks animatedly with the employee, watching as the employee points out the aspects of each bed, and Erik is just about bored out of his mind until he notices the way the employee is standing a little too close for comfort, grinning and flirting as Charles smiles and nods along, completely oblivious as always. Erik feels something ugly clench in his chest and before he can even think about it, he’s storming over with long, purposeful strides. He slides an arm possessively around Charles’ waist, smirking at the way the employee’s expression darkens.
“Oh!” Charles exclaims, looking up at Erik with wide blue eyes.
“Are we done here?” Erik asks.
Charles grins. “Oh, yes,” he says and the turns back to the IKEA employee. “Thank you ever so much for your help.”
Charles giggles as they walk away and bumps his hip against Erik’s. Erik frowns.
“What?”
Charles giggles again. It’s a very pretty sound.
“I never pegged you as the jealous type,” Charles teases.
Erik scowls and drops his hand from where it’s been resting at the small of Charles’ back. Charles grins like his point has been proven.
“It’s just weird seeing someone flirt with my husband, okay?” Erik grumbles.
Charles pauses and gives Erik a cryptic look, his smile suddenly gone. “You do realize we’re only married on paper,” Charles says. “I’m really no more than a glorified maid. Though I do suppose it would be morally dubious to sleep with your maid.”
Erik chokes on his own saliva. “What?” he says. He can feel his pulse racing again.
Charles doesn’t seem to have heard him. “What about that bed?” he asks, pointing. “Do you think Alex would like that one?”
---
On the way home, Erik drives fast and leaves the windows rolled down. The wind whips through Charles hair, making him look wild and carefree. Charles looks at Erik and his eyes are so, so blue.
They laugh.
---
Charles squints at the assembly instructions before them, confusion etched onto his face. They’re attempting to put together the new furniture they’ve bought, but as it turns out, as wonderful as Charles is with housework, he’s terrible at this.
“These instructions make no sense,” Charles says, frustrated. He glares at the instruction paper like it’s personally offended him.
“They make perfect sense,” Erik says, holding his hand out. “Here, let me see.”
Charles thrusts the instructions over to Erik and crosses his arms, watching as Erik slowly begins to assemble Sean’s new dresser. Alex and Sean are out hanging out with their friends this afternoon and the house is quiet for once. It’s nice. It doesn’t happen often.
“You know, it’s kind of nice having you do some of the work around the house,” Charles says. He sounds very pleased and maybe a little smug. “We might be married, but I can’t do all the work all the time.”
Erik grins. “You do realize we’re only married on paper,” Erik parrots.
Charles suddenly goes quiet, his expression falling into something thoughtful. “Right,” he says, and then stands. “You take care of this, then. I have no idea what to do.”
And then he leaves, and it’s not until Erik has finished putting together both Sean’s new dresser and Alex’s new bed that Erik figures out what the uneasy feeling swimming around in his stomach means.
Oh.
Oh.
---
Erik finds Charles in the kitchen, baking, because Charles bakes when he’s trying to think. In the couple hours it took for Erik to assemble everything, Charles has managed to cover every available surface in scones and muffins and cookies and at least ten different kinds of pie. Erik whistles.
“Would you look at this,” Erik says, breaking off a piece of cookie and popping it in his mouth. “We could start a bakery.”
Charles is currently whisking something that could be cake batter or icing or something else altogether and he’s got flour in his hair and he doesn’t look at Erik when he speaks.
“You could send me back, you know,” Charles says. “If you’re tired of me. I understand if you are. It happens.”
Erik blinks, taken aback.
“I mean, I get it,” Charles rambles on. “I nag too much and I fuss about everything and people get annoyed with me. I won’t be offended if you want to divorce me. It’s perfectly reasonable.”
And then Erik steps over to Charles and cups Charles’ face in his hands and kisses him. It’s a brief, light kiss, but has the desired effect of shutting Charles up, and when Erik pulls away, Charles is staring at him with wide eyes.
“You’re not going anywhere, you idiot,” Erik says, and kisses Charles again, properly this time, and Charles positively melts.
“Is it bad,” Charles pants between kisses, “Is it bad that I really want to fuck you against the kitchen counter right now?”
Erik growls low in his throat and slams their mouths back together. They have so much lost time to make up for.
---
“This is ridiculous.”
Erik is sitting on the floor in the middle of their kitchen, Charles settled comfortably between his legs with a bowl of cream cheese frosting in his lap. Their clothes are scattered about and the whole kitchen is a complete mess, and Charles is trying to be indignant as they take turns feeding each other frosting.
“This is completely and utterly ridiculous,” Charles says.
“Mm,” Erik hums, licking icing off of Charles’ fingers.
“I’m twenty-seven and I’ve been married four times and this is absolutely the most ridiculous thing I have ever done,” Charles goes on.
“Of course it is,” Erik murmurs, pressing his lips to the curve of Charles’ neck.
“What if the children come home and see us like this?” Charles says. “What will they think? What if-?”
Erik nips at Charles’ pale skin, and Charles lets out a startled yelp.
“Charles, would you do something for me?” Erik says.
“Yes?” Charles’ eyes are wide and guileless and the bluest blue, and Erik is overcome with the desire to keep him forever.
“Shut up,” Erik says, and then kisses Charles again.
Charles makes a soft, pleased sound at the back of his throat and pushes the frosting bowl aside so he can straddle Erik’s lap.
---
The next morning, it’s like nothing has changed, except for that Erik is awoken in the morning by Charles wiggling out of Erik’s arms to get out of bed, instead of just his alarm waking him up in his bed alone.
“Go back to sleep,” Charles says, pressing a kiss to Erik’s forehead. “I’m just going to get breakfast started for the kids.”
Erik mumbles sleepily and turns his face back into the pillow. It smells like Charles. Erik hears Charles patter around the room getting dressed for the day before his footsteps fade down the stairs to the kitchen.
Erik wakes up properly some thirty or forty minutes later. He stumbles into the kitchen in his usual half-asleep, half-awake manner, and Charles smiles to him as he slides a plate of chocolate chip pancakes over to Sean.
“Good morning,” Charles smiles, in good spirits as usual.
“Morning,” Erik murmurs, sleepily leaning over to press a kiss to Charles’ mouth.
“There’s coffee,” Charles says, gesturing in the general direction of the coffee maker.
Erik mumbles something that sounds vaguely like thank you and goes to pour himself a cup.
“I was just making pancakes,” Charles continues. “Did you want chocolate chips in yours?”
Erik just grunts and takes a sip of his coffee. Charles shakes his head fondly and turns back to the stove. When Erik looks up from his coffee, Alex and Sean are staring at him incredulously.
“What?” he snaps. He’s so not awake enough to deal with their weirdness right now.
“Did… did something happen between you guys?” Sean asks hesitantly.
Erik frowns. “What do you mean?” he asks.
“You seem… different,” Sean says.
Erik narrows his eyes at them. There’s a pause, and then:
“Darling,” Charles says over his shoulder as he makes pancakes for the two of them. As usual, he’s completely oblivious to the tension in the room. “Later would you help me move the rest of my things into your room?”
Sean chokes on his breakfast and Alex’s eyes widen.
“Holy shit,” Alex says.
“What?” Erik snaps again.
Charles turns around with a confused expression on his face, finally catching on that there’s something going on around him.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?” Alex hisses.
“Please,” Sean says around coughs. “Please tell me you didn’t have sex in this kitchen.”
Charles’ eyes widen and he flushes a deep red. Erik snorts and takes a casual sip of his coffee.
“Oh my god,” Sean says and flees the room.
“Seriously?” Alex exclaims. “You have a bedroom.”
Erik shrugs. “Don’t be boring,” he says.
Alex pulls a face. “Ugh, guys, really?” he says. “I mean, I love you both but we eat here.”
Charles shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and his face is still bright red. Alex picks up his plate and leaves, probably to comfort Sean. Charles watches him leave worriedly.
“Will they be okay?” Charles asks. “They looked a bit distressed.”
“Of course they are,” Erik says, sliding an arm around Charles’ waist. “It’s always weird to think about your parents having sex.”
Charles bites his lip, forehead creased. “Don’t you think we should go talk to them or something?” he asks, concerned.
“Nah,” Erik says. “They’re resilient. They’ll bounce back.”
Charles still looks worried, so Erik leans in to kiss the look off his face, and Charles huffs irritably against Erik’s lips.
“That won’t work every time, you know,” Charles says, an adorable pout upon his face. “You can’t just distract me with kisses whenever you like.”
“Noted,” Erik says, and then kisses him again.
And really, it’s all very, very romantic.