happy halloween!
I am terrible at Halloween this year, internet. I haven't carved my pumpkin yet, I missed work!Halloween because of a stupid conference I had to be at, and I I didn't even get a chance to make the Halloween treats for my workmates that I've been thinking about for two weeks. Basically, I feel like Charlie Brown at the end of It's the Great Pumpkin
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The door closes behind Erik and Charles jumps a mile. It breaks the spell.
"No no no," he says quickly. "Let me back in, Erik, I'm not staying out here! This is ludicrous, this is--"
Erik is looking at him strangely. He grabs Charles' arms when Charles tries to elbow his way back towards the closed door.
"Charles--calm down!" he says. "Charles--there's a nail in the pointer. There was--it's me! It was me!"
It takes Charles a moment to process the new information. It takes him even longer to register the feeling of Erik's hands curled around the bare skin of his arms.
His heart begins racing for an entirely different reason.
"What?" he asks.
"It was me," Erik says again. "There's a nail in the pointer. I was moving it the whole time. I wanted--I don't know." He looks unsure, suddenly. It's a foreign expression on Erik's usually steely face. "I thought--I don't know what I thought. I thought, yesterday, when you--um. When you asked me to come here, I didn't realize it was a party?"
Charles tries to follow the line of reasoning. He can't actually believe it.
"If you didn't think it was a party, you thought I was inviting you over with me," Charles says. Erik nods. "Alone," Charles adds. Erik nods again. "You were moving the pointer," Charles says. Another nod. "To get me alone. With you."
"If you don't want--" Erik starts to say, but Charles rocks up on his toes and kisses him.
He has no idea where the confidence comes from--he can barely look Erik in the eye without stuttering--but once their mouths are pressed together, he's pressing his hands against Erik's chest, stepping closer to him, deepening the kiss. Erik tastes like orange soda and he's warm and so tall and Charles is dizzy by the time the kiss reaches its natural conclusion.
They stare at each other for a moment, flushed in the cool evening air. Then Charles starts to laugh.
"You used a ouija board to get me alone!" he says.
"Shut up," Erik murmurs, his hands sliding down to Charles' waist.
"A ouija board!" Charles says. "You do realize that you could have just said, 'Charles, I think we should go somewhere private so we can kiss' and I would have agreed."
"Well," Erik says defensively, "I didn't know that for sure."
Charles wants to tease him further, to mention the way Charles stares and all the incredibly obvious double entendres and horrible flirtations that Charles has directed at Erik in the few months they've known each other, but looking up at Erik again, watching the way Erik is looking at him, he finds the words dying in his throat. It's hard to think when Erik is looking at him like that.
"Well, now you do," Charles says instead, and this time it's Erik who kisses him.
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"It was me," Erik says again. "There's a nail in the pointer. I was moving it the whole time. I wanted--I don't know." He looks unsure, suddenly. It's a foreign expression on Erik's usually steely face. "I thought--I don't know what I thought. I thought, yesterday, when you--um. When you asked me to come here, I didn't realize it was a party?"
Charles tries to follow the line of reasoning. He can't actually believe it.
"If you didn't think it was a party, you thought I was inviting you over with me," Charles says. Erik nods. "Alone," Charles adds. Erik nods again. "You were moving the pointer," Charles says. Another nod. "To get me alone. With you."
Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrik. Chaaaaaaaaarles. Booooooooooys. I CAN'T STOP ELONGATING MY VOWELS HELP SO PRECIOUS
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