ficlet february 8: signs and signals
This is a ficlet I've had in my head for a long time. Thanks to pearl_o for reminding me that I should write it!
***
Ficlet February 8: "there were signs and signals"
It's their twelfth hotel, their eighth night out, and the fourteenth day of their recruitment trip and Erik doesn't know how much more he can take.
He thought, initially, it would be a test of his resolve. He does, truly, want to help other young mutants from falling prey to the troubles of his own youth. He does, truly, feel a need to protect and guide them; he wouldn't pause his quest of vengeance if he didn't. At the same time, he has to admit that the idea of spending several weeks alone with Charles was...appealing. He knows better than to let things like his libido distract him, but his attraction to Charles has kept him on edge in a good way. It's made him hyperaware and sharp.
Or it had.
He imagined, maybe, once Shaw was dealt with, acting on his impulses, his attraction. He let himself think of Charles as a person who would be worth staying alive for. He let himself think, When this is over, maybe...
He should have stopped himself, because now he knows what Charles really feels and he still has to travel with the man and it's driving him crazy.
The first night of their trip they drove for miles and miles before checking into their hotel. They stowed their bags and went down to the restaurant for dinner, where Charles had two drinks in rapid succession over the course of their meal and, as soon as the plates were clear, propositioned Erik.
Erik was tempted. He was sorely tempted. In the past, it hadn't mattered to him--drunk or sober, he didn't care as long as his body got what it needed. Charles was different, though. What he and Charles had, it was the closest thing to friendship he had ever experienced. He craved it. He couldn't ruin it with an ill-advised, drunken fling.
He turned Charles down. Charles shrugged it off and ordered a third drink. Erik returned to their room.
In the morning, Charles acted like nothing had changed, so Erik did as well. They went out for their first potential recruit, got turned down, and ended up back in the restaurant the next night. The scene repeated itself--Charles drank with dinner and after, on their way back to their room, stood a little too close and looked up at Erik with eyes that were clearly an invitation.
Erik ignored the invitation and took a long, cold shower instead.
Again, the next morning Charles was as genial as ever, and the day was mostly spent driving and talking about their lives. They reached their next hotel and went to refresh themselves in the attached bar. Charles gave Erik the same inviting look, which he ignored, and then eventually disappeared, talking up a beautiful young woman in a corner booth, sharing a drink and those sly, inviting smiles, until Erik couldn't take it any longer and abandoned the bar to the solace of his bed.
That's how it's been ever since. During the day, it's just business--Charles is cheerful and on task and happy to prattle on about whatever is on his mind, share jokes with Erik, wander into Erik's personal space, all the while saying nothing about what he does or doesn't feel for Erik. In the evenings, they have a pleasant dinner and then, once Charles has started drinking, he makes his intentions known. When Erik ignores him, he finds some young woman to spend his night with.
It's maddening. He's so close to what he wants, but he can't bring himself to take it. He won't be one of Charles' sloppy drunken conquests. He has too much pride to allow himself to be with someone who needs the haze of alcohol as a cover for his actions. He needs to focus on their mission and his own mission and not the color of Charles' eyes and mouth.
Their twelfth hotel, their eighth night out, and the fourteenth day of their recruitment trip and Erik is sitting at a table watching Charles flirt shamelessly with a gentleman sitting alone a few tables away. He's watching the way Charles holds his beer bottle, the way his mouth curls around the top. He's watching the way the man is watching Charles and he decides he's had enough.
He gets up from his table, drink abandoned, and heads out of the bar. He doesn't look at Charles. He doesn't think about Charles or the tall, attractive man who captured his attention, he doesn't think about anything, honing his focus, tuning out distractions, just like he taught himself. Everything around him becomes white noise, save for the singing of metal, and he stomps out of the bar and across the street to the motel.
He's nearly to their room when he realizes he's being followed and whips around.
In a new twist to the endless repetition of the past few nights, it's Charles. He's left his paramour at the bar and is chasing after Erik, exasperated.
"What are you doing here?" Erik asks, and Charles jogs to catch up and then puts his hands on his hips.
"What am I doing here?" Charles asks. "Trying to figure out what the bloody hell your problem is!"
Erik glances around the parking lot. Seeing no witnesses to their argument, he grabs Charles' arm and tugs him the rest of the way to their room.
"You're drunk," he says once he slams the door behind them.
"Excuse me?" Charles says. "What are you talking about? That doesn't answer my question!"
Erik crosses his arms.
"You didn't have to follow me," he says. "You could have gone off with him. I don't care."
"You do!" Charles says. "That's why I don't understand! I have made my intentions very clear to you, Erik! I have given you every sign and signal and you have made your own feelings clear as well. You can't have it both ways! If you're not interested, I'm allowed to flirt with other people. You clearly are interested, it pours off of you, off of your mind, but instead of acting on it you're acting like a lunatic!"
"I'm a lunatic?" Erik asks. "I'm not the one drunkenly making a fool of myself with anyone who will have me!"
"What are you talking about?" Charles asks. "Erik, if you want me, just bloody say it and that will be that! I'm only taking it elsewhere to take the bloody edge off when you turn me down over and over again!"
"I don't sleep with people who need to be drunk to be with me!" Erik lies, because it's easier than explaining that Charles would be different than those who have come before him. This is painful and embarrassing enough as it is.
Charles stares at him.
"What?" he asks after a pregnant pause.
"I don't...I can't be with you if you need to drink to come on to me," Erik says gruffly, staring at the floor, his scowl sharp and hopefully hiding his embarrassment.
"I'm not--Erik...what are you talking about? I'm not drunk," Charles says. "I've never come onto you while drunk, I don't need to drink to come on to you."
"Oh please," Erik says. He glares at Charles and shifts stiffly. "Every night it's the same--you make no mention of it all day and then in the evening, once you've had a few drinks--"
"We're working during the day," Charles interrupts. "I do have some sense of decorum you know, despite what stories Raven have told you. And it's certainly an awkward dinner conversation, so I wait until after to be proper about it. And I'm certainly not drunk on two beers. I barely feel it at all."
Erik stares at Charles.
"Is that really what this is all about?" Charles asks. Something about him shifts--it's softer, sweeter. He can tell Charles is fighting a smile. "Erik, I promise you I don't need to be drunk to make my intentions known. I promise you that no matter the state of my mind, I am always completely aware of how attractive you are, how much I like you, and how much I want you."
Erik clears his throat. He's not sure he can process all of this information. He thinks that may be a mental defense mechanism to avoid feeling like an idiot.
"Oh," he says.
"You obviously haven't listened to any of the character assassination Moira and Raven used to trade over lunch at the base," Charles says, stepping closer to Erik. The smile is out now, sly and pleased and private, just for Erik.
"I have not," Erik says, and does not add that's because he spent most of those shared lunches watching Charles eat.
"The night I met Moira, I chugged a yard of ale at my graduation party and was still clear headed enough to have a nice chat with her about the threat posed by Shaw and his group," Charles says. He lays a hand on Erik's chest. "Raven has seen me drink entire pubs under the table--burly gentleman twice my width and nearly twice my height. I can hold my liquor."
"I...see," Erik manages to say. His throat is suddenly very dry.
"I am not drunk on two drinks, and I wouldn't need to be drunk to be this close to you," Charles murmurs.
"I...understand that," Erik says. He can count Charles' eyelashes, he so close.
"So I will ask you one more time, now that we're on the same page," Charles says. "Erik, I would very much like to kiss you and take you to bed. Are you amenable to that?"
"Shut up," Erik says, and takes Charles quickly in a kiss.
*
At their thirteenth hotel on the fifteenth day of their trip, they stay in.
***
ficlet february!
Get some sleep
Five minutes away
Faint recognition
Half an hour before sunrise
Useless, but beautiful
Something’s broken
Surprise celebration
There were signs and signals
Rituals
Write about a postcard
What are you looking for?
You remind me of someone
A meeting, a beginning
Lasting impression
Long drive
Behind closed doors
Ask questions later
Six impossible things
Day off
Lost in a city
A door key
A late night phone call
Someone else’s mortification
Something from music
Something from a picture
***
Ficlet February 8: "there were signs and signals"
It's their twelfth hotel, their eighth night out, and the fourteenth day of their recruitment trip and Erik doesn't know how much more he can take.
He thought, initially, it would be a test of his resolve. He does, truly, want to help other young mutants from falling prey to the troubles of his own youth. He does, truly, feel a need to protect and guide them; he wouldn't pause his quest of vengeance if he didn't. At the same time, he has to admit that the idea of spending several weeks alone with Charles was...appealing. He knows better than to let things like his libido distract him, but his attraction to Charles has kept him on edge in a good way. It's made him hyperaware and sharp.
Or it had.
He imagined, maybe, once Shaw was dealt with, acting on his impulses, his attraction. He let himself think of Charles as a person who would be worth staying alive for. He let himself think, When this is over, maybe...
He should have stopped himself, because now he knows what Charles really feels and he still has to travel with the man and it's driving him crazy.
The first night of their trip they drove for miles and miles before checking into their hotel. They stowed their bags and went down to the restaurant for dinner, where Charles had two drinks in rapid succession over the course of their meal and, as soon as the plates were clear, propositioned Erik.
Erik was tempted. He was sorely tempted. In the past, it hadn't mattered to him--drunk or sober, he didn't care as long as his body got what it needed. Charles was different, though. What he and Charles had, it was the closest thing to friendship he had ever experienced. He craved it. He couldn't ruin it with an ill-advised, drunken fling.
He turned Charles down. Charles shrugged it off and ordered a third drink. Erik returned to their room.
In the morning, Charles acted like nothing had changed, so Erik did as well. They went out for their first potential recruit, got turned down, and ended up back in the restaurant the next night. The scene repeated itself--Charles drank with dinner and after, on their way back to their room, stood a little too close and looked up at Erik with eyes that were clearly an invitation.
Erik ignored the invitation and took a long, cold shower instead.
Again, the next morning Charles was as genial as ever, and the day was mostly spent driving and talking about their lives. They reached their next hotel and went to refresh themselves in the attached bar. Charles gave Erik the same inviting look, which he ignored, and then eventually disappeared, talking up a beautiful young woman in a corner booth, sharing a drink and those sly, inviting smiles, until Erik couldn't take it any longer and abandoned the bar to the solace of his bed.
That's how it's been ever since. During the day, it's just business--Charles is cheerful and on task and happy to prattle on about whatever is on his mind, share jokes with Erik, wander into Erik's personal space, all the while saying nothing about what he does or doesn't feel for Erik. In the evenings, they have a pleasant dinner and then, once Charles has started drinking, he makes his intentions known. When Erik ignores him, he finds some young woman to spend his night with.
It's maddening. He's so close to what he wants, but he can't bring himself to take it. He won't be one of Charles' sloppy drunken conquests. He has too much pride to allow himself to be with someone who needs the haze of alcohol as a cover for his actions. He needs to focus on their mission and his own mission and not the color of Charles' eyes and mouth.
Their twelfth hotel, their eighth night out, and the fourteenth day of their recruitment trip and Erik is sitting at a table watching Charles flirt shamelessly with a gentleman sitting alone a few tables away. He's watching the way Charles holds his beer bottle, the way his mouth curls around the top. He's watching the way the man is watching Charles and he decides he's had enough.
He gets up from his table, drink abandoned, and heads out of the bar. He doesn't look at Charles. He doesn't think about Charles or the tall, attractive man who captured his attention, he doesn't think about anything, honing his focus, tuning out distractions, just like he taught himself. Everything around him becomes white noise, save for the singing of metal, and he stomps out of the bar and across the street to the motel.
He's nearly to their room when he realizes he's being followed and whips around.
In a new twist to the endless repetition of the past few nights, it's Charles. He's left his paramour at the bar and is chasing after Erik, exasperated.
"What are you doing here?" Erik asks, and Charles jogs to catch up and then puts his hands on his hips.
"What am I doing here?" Charles asks. "Trying to figure out what the bloody hell your problem is!"
Erik glances around the parking lot. Seeing no witnesses to their argument, he grabs Charles' arm and tugs him the rest of the way to their room.
"You're drunk," he says once he slams the door behind them.
"Excuse me?" Charles says. "What are you talking about? That doesn't answer my question!"
Erik crosses his arms.
"You didn't have to follow me," he says. "You could have gone off with him. I don't care."
"You do!" Charles says. "That's why I don't understand! I have made my intentions very clear to you, Erik! I have given you every sign and signal and you have made your own feelings clear as well. You can't have it both ways! If you're not interested, I'm allowed to flirt with other people. You clearly are interested, it pours off of you, off of your mind, but instead of acting on it you're acting like a lunatic!"
"I'm a lunatic?" Erik asks. "I'm not the one drunkenly making a fool of myself with anyone who will have me!"
"What are you talking about?" Charles asks. "Erik, if you want me, just bloody say it and that will be that! I'm only taking it elsewhere to take the bloody edge off when you turn me down over and over again!"
"I don't sleep with people who need to be drunk to be with me!" Erik lies, because it's easier than explaining that Charles would be different than those who have come before him. This is painful and embarrassing enough as it is.
Charles stares at him.
"What?" he asks after a pregnant pause.
"I don't...I can't be with you if you need to drink to come on to me," Erik says gruffly, staring at the floor, his scowl sharp and hopefully hiding his embarrassment.
"I'm not--Erik...what are you talking about? I'm not drunk," Charles says. "I've never come onto you while drunk, I don't need to drink to come on to you."
"Oh please," Erik says. He glares at Charles and shifts stiffly. "Every night it's the same--you make no mention of it all day and then in the evening, once you've had a few drinks--"
"We're working during the day," Charles interrupts. "I do have some sense of decorum you know, despite what stories Raven have told you. And it's certainly an awkward dinner conversation, so I wait until after to be proper about it. And I'm certainly not drunk on two beers. I barely feel it at all."
Erik stares at Charles.
"Is that really what this is all about?" Charles asks. Something about him shifts--it's softer, sweeter. He can tell Charles is fighting a smile. "Erik, I promise you I don't need to be drunk to make my intentions known. I promise you that no matter the state of my mind, I am always completely aware of how attractive you are, how much I like you, and how much I want you."
Erik clears his throat. He's not sure he can process all of this information. He thinks that may be a mental defense mechanism to avoid feeling like an idiot.
"Oh," he says.
"You obviously haven't listened to any of the character assassination Moira and Raven used to trade over lunch at the base," Charles says, stepping closer to Erik. The smile is out now, sly and pleased and private, just for Erik.
"I have not," Erik says, and does not add that's because he spent most of those shared lunches watching Charles eat.
"The night I met Moira, I chugged a yard of ale at my graduation party and was still clear headed enough to have a nice chat with her about the threat posed by Shaw and his group," Charles says. He lays a hand on Erik's chest. "Raven has seen me drink entire pubs under the table--burly gentleman twice my width and nearly twice my height. I can hold my liquor."
"I...see," Erik manages to say. His throat is suddenly very dry.
"I am not drunk on two drinks, and I wouldn't need to be drunk to be this close to you," Charles murmurs.
"I...understand that," Erik says. He can count Charles' eyelashes, he so close.
"So I will ask you one more time, now that we're on the same page," Charles says. "Erik, I would very much like to kiss you and take you to bed. Are you amenable to that?"
"Shut up," Erik says, and takes Charles quickly in a kiss.
*
At their thirteenth hotel on the fifteenth day of their trip, they stay in.
***
ficlet february!
Get some sleep
Five minutes away
Faint recognition
Half an hour before sunrise
Useless, but beautiful
Something’s broken
Surprise celebration
There were signs and signals
Rituals
Write about a postcard
What are you looking for?
You remind me of someone
A meeting, a beginning
Lasting impression
Long drive
Behind closed doors
Ask questions later
Six impossible things
Day off
Lost in a city
A door key
A late night phone call
Someone else’s mortification
Something from music
Something from a picture