fake!nano: day 2
So, today I went to work even though I felt like crap. Then I came home to a quiet, dark house and decided to take an ill-advised nap. I woke up an hour later feeling ravenous, cranky, out of sorts, and gross, but I wanted to write something and I knew I couldn't focus on my big bang. None of the pictures on my flist were particularly inspiring today, so I strolled through pearl_o's tumblr, latched on to one of her posts, and wrote something really shitty, rushing through it so I had SOME amount of words before I went off to chat with liveonthesun for the rest of the night.
When we hung up, I looked over my super shitty words, looked back at the picture in question, erased everything, and started from scratch. This version is better.
***
Erik agreed to go along to the bar because he could tell Charles needed it. There's always a peculiar set to Charles' jaw when he's had a hard day that he doesn't want to talk about, a certain color to the circles under his eyes. He's fidgety and tight and those days are the days that Erik doesn't even put up one of his token protests--it's late, he's tired, he doesn't want to see people, they both have to work tomorrow, wouldn't it be nice if they just stayed in?--he merely agrees and dons his coat and follows Charles out.
They end up at a bar near the university and it's not long before one of Charles' colleagues sees them and waves them over. Thankfully, it's someone Erik can stand--MacTaggert, who can carry on a conversation about things other than grading papers and the latest research in her field--and thankfully, her table is off in the corner, away from the general rowdiness of the bar area.
Charles finishes his second drink while Erik is still nursing his first and orders his third when Erik orders his second. The first drink loosens Charles up. The second relaxes him. The third, Erik's actually been looking forward to.
It's almost unnoticeable at first. Charles always gestures when he talks, and Erik thinks most people wouldn't notice that those gestures become gentle touches to Erik's hand, his arm. Then Charles starts to shift in the booth, angling himself closer as he has another sip of his drink. He watches Erik talk with a distant, sultry smile. He inches closer, leaves his hand on Erik's arm, his wrist, his knee, his thigh. He sits up against Erik, pressed right against his side, leaning against him to nod at something that MacTaggert is saying. He hooks his chin over Erik's shoulder, then turns his head and nuzzles Erik's ear. The nuzzling drifts downward, until Charles is all but kissing Erik's throat, his breath curling damp and hot in the small space between his mouth and the skin of Erik's neck.
MacTaggert rolls her eyes with no small amount of affection and excuses herself to the restroom, taking her purse with her. She's not coming back, which Erik appreciates, almost as much as he appreciates the easy way Charles comes forward when Erik lays an encouraging hand at the small of his back. Charles climbs right onto Erik's lap, wrapping his arms around Erik's neck and leaning forward until their noses touch.
"Hi," Charles says. Erik can feel his heart racing with anticipation.
"Hey," Erik says, and Charles leans forward and kisses him.
The kisses are warm and open and wet. Not sloppy, exactly, but casual. Almost lazy. He moves to Erik's neck, kissing at the same meandering pace, sucking almost absently at the skin under Erik's ear. Erik can feel the low thrum of warmth spreading outward from his gut. He wants Charles. Of course he does. He always wants Charles. And it's obvious that Charles wants him. But there's no need to rush. There's an anticipation for things to come, but they're going to take their time getting there.
For the moment, Erik is going to lean back, pull Charles' warm, pliant body more firmly against his own, and enjoy the ride.
When we hung up, I looked over my super shitty words, looked back at the picture in question, erased everything, and started from scratch. This version is better.
***
Erik agreed to go along to the bar because he could tell Charles needed it. There's always a peculiar set to Charles' jaw when he's had a hard day that he doesn't want to talk about, a certain color to the circles under his eyes. He's fidgety and tight and those days are the days that Erik doesn't even put up one of his token protests--it's late, he's tired, he doesn't want to see people, they both have to work tomorrow, wouldn't it be nice if they just stayed in?--he merely agrees and dons his coat and follows Charles out.
They end up at a bar near the university and it's not long before one of Charles' colleagues sees them and waves them over. Thankfully, it's someone Erik can stand--MacTaggert, who can carry on a conversation about things other than grading papers and the latest research in her field--and thankfully, her table is off in the corner, away from the general rowdiness of the bar area.
Charles finishes his second drink while Erik is still nursing his first and orders his third when Erik orders his second. The first drink loosens Charles up. The second relaxes him. The third, Erik's actually been looking forward to.
It's almost unnoticeable at first. Charles always gestures when he talks, and Erik thinks most people wouldn't notice that those gestures become gentle touches to Erik's hand, his arm. Then Charles starts to shift in the booth, angling himself closer as he has another sip of his drink. He watches Erik talk with a distant, sultry smile. He inches closer, leaves his hand on Erik's arm, his wrist, his knee, his thigh. He sits up against Erik, pressed right against his side, leaning against him to nod at something that MacTaggert is saying. He hooks his chin over Erik's shoulder, then turns his head and nuzzles Erik's ear. The nuzzling drifts downward, until Charles is all but kissing Erik's throat, his breath curling damp and hot in the small space between his mouth and the skin of Erik's neck.
MacTaggert rolls her eyes with no small amount of affection and excuses herself to the restroom, taking her purse with her. She's not coming back, which Erik appreciates, almost as much as he appreciates the easy way Charles comes forward when Erik lays an encouraging hand at the small of his back. Charles climbs right onto Erik's lap, wrapping his arms around Erik's neck and leaning forward until their noses touch.
"Hi," Charles says. Erik can feel his heart racing with anticipation.
"Hey," Erik says, and Charles leans forward and kisses him.
The kisses are warm and open and wet. Not sloppy, exactly, but casual. Almost lazy. He moves to Erik's neck, kissing at the same meandering pace, sucking almost absently at the skin under Erik's ear. Erik can feel the low thrum of warmth spreading outward from his gut. He wants Charles. Of course he does. He always wants Charles. And it's obvious that Charles wants him. But there's no need to rush. There's an anticipation for things to come, but they're going to take their time getting there.
For the moment, Erik is going to lean back, pull Charles' warm, pliant body more firmly against his own, and enjoy the ride.