The wind picks up, blowing their hair around and stinging their cheeks and sending sand billowing around them. Charles shivers and pulls away just enough to laugh, tilting his head to look up at Erik, eyes hooded and dark. They should move inside, somewhere with a bed, preferably.
"Mm," Charles says. "And a locking door."
Erik pauses at that, because he definitely hadn't said that out loud and he'd given permission, yes, but that's...odd. He didn't even feel it, didn't even realize. Charles smiles, but it's sad and dim and apologetic.
"I'm sorry," Charles says. "I wasn't--I'll stop, if you'd like."
Yes, please, Erik thinks automatically, but he very deliberately says, "No. It's okay."
He knows he's said the right thing when Charles' face lights up, his smile genuine and real and relaxed. Something uncurls in Erik's head, too, warm and just barely brushing over the surface of his thoughts. It's foreign, but oddly comfortable and Erik leans down to press another chaste kiss against Charles' mouth.
Haha, well, as for what I was thinking, I think I was drunkenly emailing you as I was writing this, if I remember correctly? We were talking about windblown McAvoy sitting on the shore in Starter for Ten and I was babbling about how I wanted fic about rosy-cheeked windblown Charles and then I had a few more glasses of champagne and wrote this fic XD
So, re-reading it, this is another fic about my love of pining!Erik, wanting something that, for the first time in his life, he's not allowing himself to take. I tend to characterize Erik as a) being very in-tune with his sexuality, but very perfunctory about it (ie: he's not ashamed of/unaware of his queerness, but he also treats sexual attraction the same way he does hunger, thirst, tiredness, etc--an annoying inconvenience that he occasionally takes time out of his day to deal with, in this case by picking up strangers or hiring hookers or something) and b) as not being afraid of taking anything he wants. There aren't a great many things that Erik does want outside of revenge, but when
( ... )
"I'm sorry," Charles says. "I wasn't--I'll stop, if you'd like."
Yes, please, Erik thinks automatically, but he very deliberately says, "No. It's okay."
Erik's first instinct is to reject that sort of invasion of his privacy, of course, but he also understands what it is to be ostracized. He does love Charles and he also finds Charles' power oddly fascinating. He doesn't necessarily want Charles in his head, but he's realizing how that a) he doesn't know the whole scope of them or even what, precisely, Charles can do, b) that it's an important part of Charles and something he does instinctually, and c) that even if he tells Charles not to be in his head, there's no way to stop him or even know if he's there, so might as well give in to the inevitable.
He knows he's said the right thing when Charles' face lights up, his smile genuine and real and relaxed. Something uncurls in Erik's head, too, warm and just barely brushing over the surface of his thoughts. It's foreign, but oddly comfortable and Erik leans down to press another
( ... )
Charles wrinkles his nose. Erik doesn't have to rub it in. He supposes he shouldn't be so surprised. For all that Erik is for the freedom for mutants to be who they want to be, he's fairly intolerant of humans. It makes sense; as much as Charles had hoped that someone whose mind was open to the possibilities of advanced genetic mutation would be open to the idea of sex with another man, if that held true, no ethnic minority would have it in them to hate any other ethnic minority, and the state of civil rights in the country proved how incorrect an assumption that was
( ... )
This was not my original assignment for secret_mutant, but it was the first pinch hit I picked up (I wrote three but only posted two because the last one came through at the last moment and that story was, frankly, not very good.) and the first of the three stories I posted to be finished, way back in November. This was an immediate drop-out--the person had to drop out within the first week or so of the exchange. I had already started this as a response to one of momebie's NaNo November prompts, but hadn't finished it, though I wanted to. When I saw the direction of the story fit the request of this secret_mutant participant, I didn't even bother sending it out to the pinch hit list
( ... )
"It's not catching, Erik," Charles insists, and there! Erik finally closes the book and sits up.
"I assume we're not talking about the hangover any longer," Erik says.
"I've never in my life been ashamed of myself and I am not going to start because some...some prudish Nazi-hunter takes issue!"
I tend to write Charles as circumspect, but not at all uncomfortable with his attraction to men. I feel like, as a telepath, he'd have come into contact with enough people's repressed thoughts that he'd work out that they're just as common as heterosexual feelings and there's nothing wrong with them.
Charles points his finger angrily at Erik who looks...confused. Good. Let him be confused. "I can control myself, thank you very much, and I'd have never--I wouldn't have--it wasn't as if I was going to crawl into your bed at night!" Well, not outside of Charles' more desperate fantasies, but Erik didn't need to know about those. Nor the ones where they had to sleep in the back of the car or they got trapped in an elevator together or there
( ... )
"Mm," Charles says. "And a locking door."
Erik pauses at that, because he definitely hadn't said that out loud and he'd given permission, yes, but that's...odd. He didn't even feel it, didn't even realize. Charles smiles, but it's sad and dim and apologetic.
"I'm sorry," Charles says. "I wasn't--I'll stop, if you'd like."
Yes, please, Erik thinks automatically, but he very deliberately says, "No. It's okay."
He knows he's said the right thing when Charles' face lights up, his smile genuine and real and relaxed. Something uncurls in Erik's head, too, warm and just barely brushing over the surface of his thoughts. It's foreign, but oddly comfortable and Erik leans down to press another chaste kiss against Charles' mouth.
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So, re-reading it, this is another fic about my love of pining!Erik, wanting something that, for the first time in his life, he's not allowing himself to take. I tend to characterize Erik as a) being very in-tune with his sexuality, but very perfunctory about it (ie: he's not ashamed of/unaware of his queerness, but he also treats sexual attraction the same way he does hunger, thirst, tiredness, etc--an annoying inconvenience that he occasionally takes time out of his day to deal with, in this case by picking up strangers or hiring hookers or something) and b) as not being afraid of taking anything he wants. There aren't a great many things that Erik does want outside of revenge, but when ( ... )
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Yes, please, Erik thinks automatically, but he very deliberately says, "No. It's okay."
Erik's first instinct is to reject that sort of invasion of his privacy, of course, but he also understands what it is to be ostracized. He does love Charles and he also finds Charles' power oddly fascinating. He doesn't necessarily want Charles in his head, but he's realizing how that a) he doesn't know the whole scope of them or even what, precisely, Charles can do, b) that it's an important part of Charles and something he does instinctually, and c) that even if he tells Charles not to be in his head, there's no way to stop him or even know if he's there, so might as well give in to the inevitable.
He knows he's said the right thing when Charles' face lights up, his smile genuine and real and relaxed. Something uncurls in Erik's head, too, warm and just barely brushing over the surface of his thoughts. It's foreign, but oddly comfortable and Erik leans down to press another ( ... )
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Here, another:
Charles wrinkles his nose. Erik doesn't have to rub it in. He supposes he shouldn't be so surprised. For all that Erik is for the freedom for mutants to be who they want to be, he's fairly intolerant of humans. It makes sense; as much as Charles had hoped that someone whose mind was open to the possibilities of advanced genetic mutation would be open to the idea of sex with another man, if that held true, no ethnic minority would have it in them to hate any other ethnic minority, and the state of civil rights in the country proved how incorrect an assumption that was ( ... )
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"I assume we're not talking about the hangover any longer," Erik says.
"I've never in my life been ashamed of myself and I am not going to start because some...some prudish Nazi-hunter takes issue!"
I tend to write Charles as circumspect, but not at all uncomfortable with his attraction to men. I feel like, as a telepath, he'd have come into contact with enough people's repressed thoughts that he'd work out that they're just as common as heterosexual feelings and there's nothing wrong with them.
Charles points his finger angrily at Erik who looks...confused. Good. Let him be confused. "I can control myself, thank you very much, and I'd have never--I wouldn't have--it wasn't as if I was going to crawl into your bed at night!" Well, not outside of Charles' more desperate fantasies, but Erik didn't need to know about those. Nor the ones where they had to sleep in the back of the car or they got trapped in an elevator together or there ( ... )
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