[ He does not move to help Charles from the chair onto the couch-- instead watching his progress with a steady gaze; a mixture of responsibility and guilt warring on his features. He'll never quite be used to the idea that Charles cannot simply stand from the chair and walk over to him-- the image is too ingratiated into his mind; too familiar; and for it to be contradicted here is still uncomfortable to him. Once the telepath is settled, he chances closer-- arm resting on the back of the couch, brushing against the collar of Charles' sweater-- even the fabric itself has picked up the chill from the wind outside. ] If you'll have me-- I'll stay. [ Fingertips settle against the telepath's neck, consciously this time-- and it's a tender gesture; more like the way they used to be, than what they had now. Both a touch bitter, possibly. ]
[ Erik shifts even closer-- still not enough to encroach on Charles' space, but it's no longer a platonic distance; there's always been a certain lack of ambiguity in Erik's gestures; though subtle, they are unmistakably laced with genuine attachment. At the touch of the other's skin, his hand settles against Charles' neck entirely--] You're cold, [ He murmurs-- swallowing the hoarse edge in his voice. ]
Of course I'll have you. [ His tone makes it sound as if that should be the most obvious thing in the world to Erik. And perhaps, in some ways, he thinks it should be. Charles had never turned him away before; he hadn't a clue why the man might think he would now. He turns his head, and some of his torso, mostly so he can get a good look at him-- or as much as the light of the fire would allow. He's changed so much and yet so very little, it's almost surreal in its complexity.
Erik's fingertips burn at the back of his neck, warm skin contrasting cold; like the fire it's almost too hot, and yet he doesn't move away, he welcomes the contact. He doesn't get much of it, not anymore, besides the occasional hand on his shoulder-- everyone's so afraid he's going to break; but if anything Charles just finds it resentful. He was wounded not ruined. He has to draw his thoughts in, because now was not the time nor the place to allow himself to become embittered; he wanted to enjoy the small gift of time. ] I left the window open far too long, got lost in my thoughts-- I'm sure you understand.
Then, I’ll stay. It’ll probably be for the best if no one knows-- I realize that I’m not your students’ most welcomed visitor; particularly after the recent clashes. [ And there have been clashes. Incidents-- between the Brotherhood mutants and those of the Xavier Academy-- usually involving the humans that Charles appears so keen to protect; nothing of much great consequence, but enough to cause a significant friction between the idealistically differing parties. But Erik is not here to debate politics-- after so much time, he’s learnt to reign in the philosophical debates. ]
Hmm, you did. [ Erik moves closer again, dropping his hand from Charles’ shoulder and sliding it down his spine-- more of their old intimacy in the gesture, and finally he’s right beside the telepath; other arm in its characteristic position around his waist; still under the pretence of keeping him warm-- something self-deprecating in his face, an edge of mingled concern and defeat. It always came back to this for him-- he could not, in anyway, escape the gravity of this connection that trapped them both. Charles is a deeply grounding force, centring him even now. He turns his head, nose grazing the other’s cheek. ] And, I do understand. Though, at least for my sake, remember to look after yourself. It would worry Raven to no end if you were ill.
No, that's true. [ The students who, despite all their open hearts and minds could not understand his kinship with Erik. Could not understand why Charles refused to use force-- they wanted what was best, but it was easy when one didn't have to face the ethical and moral repercussions of the choices made. He couldn't force Erik, he couldn't change him, not like that-- he'd never forgive himself; even if it all ended well. ] They're young, far too young for this. [ He always thought that, no matter their age, because he found he could never think of someone as the proper age for battle-- for aggression, for risking their lives-- it was only out of necessity for the safety of the students (and the humans) that Charles had come to allow some of the older students to return to combat. ] Perhaps smarter than I am, though. [ A humorless smile crosses his lips, unsure of how wise their continued private meetings were, but unable to resist them nonetheless.
He can spot, with painful ease, the point on his back where he can no longer feel Erik's hand till it begins to move upward again. It's a odd sensation, as if the lower half of his body was becoming foreign to him; a dead weight that used to offer him so many opportunities. He often didn't realize how much he would miss something till it was gone; and he had learned this lesson the hard way, time and time again. ] Of course. [ A light nod, his eyes drawn toward Erik's own, watching with a light flicker, as if trying to read his expression since he kept himself out of his mind. ] I'll be more careful.
Everything I have done-- has been done to protect you. [ It's a fervent admission of love, as well as a curse-- the smallest hint of angry condemnation behind it, because he's done what was needed, and what others feared to do-- he's defending the one person he cannot stand to lose; the irony there being that in doing so, he's pushed him away with his own hands. ] But we've been over this, again and again and we still do not agree-- so it's best left alone. Charles-- [ Erik's fingers knot in the wool of the other's sweater, and it takes him a moment-- eyes flickering over the other's blue ones, something going out of him then, replaced with warmth. He does not have it in him this evening to maintain any kind of combative edge, in truth, he lives as much for their meetings as Charles does. ] I won't stop visiting, as long as you allow me in the window. [ It's not without humor either, but like Charles, he can't quite muster the enthusiasm to joke. ] And Charles, if you ever were ill-- or something happened, I'd want to know.
[ When he leans forward to press his mouth to the other man's, it's chaste but lingering-- a slow reminder of the better days, and the touch is something of a benediction; their few, sanctified meetings are always hinged on bitterness. But he'd never stay away, nor stray so far that he cannot come back like he promised years ago in the hospital room. This last separation had endured for far too long; he had not been able to get away from the Hellfire club for five or so months, and each day had grated at him. ] I'm sorry I couldn't see you sooner. [ His voice is low, chest against the other man's side-- he speaks against his ear. ]
I know that Erik. [ His tone isn't argumentative, not this time; he's come to a simple understanding that they were both so terribly stuck in their ways; and it was out of love and not selfishness that causes such a violent refusal to budge. His smile is softer but no less sincere, glad that the slowly rising tone had died out. If it became an argument, now, he probably wouldn't have been able to stand it. It's been far too long and that ache in his chest had grown far too wide. ] Of course I'll always let you in, Erik. This is your home. [ Regardless how far he decided to venture, or the places he decided to live, Charles would always think of it as Erik's home, Raven's home, as much as it was his own. To do otherwise-- he refused to think about that. ]
I understand, time is... precious. [ He can hardly fault Erik when he hadn't made any ventures across the country to see him-- while that may have been more difficult in his position it was still possible. He was grateful to say the least. The little kiss earns him more of a smile and Charles leans up the best he can to return the kiss, to keep it going even when Erik is pulling back till it becomes a strain and he settles back into the couch plaintively.
One hand sliding across his own numbed thigh to Erik's, searching for his hand in an attempt to intertwine their fingers. ]
This place is not my home, Charles; but as long as you're here-- this is where I'll come back to. [ He reacts instantly, covering Charles' hand with his own and lacing their fingers together-- and reaching to the telepath, he pulls him close-- allowing him to rest upright against his chest; still conscious of how cold the tips of Charles' fingers are-- and those elegantly made bones; so much more prominent now than they ever were when he had first come to the mansion.
Erik's head drops down, nose pressing softly into the other's shoulder, and it is like a final bridge between them.] It is. I would visit you far more frequently if it was in my power-- but for now we've got the weekend, at the very least.
I hope none of yours were hurt in the last confrontation. It was not my intention to harm your students, but I had no choice. [ It is not easy to go from the two opposing leaders, back into their old dynamic-- the affection is always there, just beneath the surface for him, but he has to pack away the angry accusations, your damn X-Men, and attempt to think of Charles-- chair-bound and having been abandoned by him. Erik bends to the other man's warmth, crowding into the achingly familiar form-- because he won't ever get over this; he doesn't want to. Leaning in, he kisses him again-- less chaste, and firmly, almost an apology. ]
[ There's a small flicker of hurt at his words; to think Erik wouldn't call it his home anymore shouldn't surprise him or bother him but for some reason it does. Perhaps it's just because it's another line severed between them, and Charles had to wonder just how many threads were still holding them together. Pulled into Erik he offers no resistance, head tipping to the side just a bit as he huddles close. ]
Then we'll enjoy the weekend. [ It's all he can hope for, a little bit at a time; something to dull that swollen ache that threatened whenever Erik had to leave-- whenever he was gone too long-- Hell, whenever Charles let his thoughts wander too far. ]
There's always a choice, Erik. [ He murmurs, but its quiet, almost painful-- as if he can't resist saying the words and yet he doesn't want to. Not now. Not really. He's terrified of starting an argument but that stubborn belief eats away at him and he can't help himself. It's almost miserable, the way he can feel his words pulling at his insides, reminding him that each one could be the the blade that cuts the last thread that tethers them together. He was a fool, twice over, and he knew it. He closes his eyes, if only to hold back his emotions, to hide the light pang of guilt from words he truly believed. Sinking into the kiss as if he were drowning and Erik was air, for the moment he wished ever so greatly that he was someone else. ]
[ He keeps running his one hand up and down the other's back, other hand edging up to trace Charles' jaw line-- from the hollow below his ear, to his chin-- fingers grazing his throat. Erik gentles the kiss, their noses brushing briefly while he moves reluctantly back those few inches so that he can look into the telepath's face. A singular comment from Charles-- while being abrasive, is not enough to make him angry; he's too relieved to simply be at the house again, and he strokes back the other man's hair, smoothing it down with his fingers. The tension that Charles emanates-- and the tinge of misery in his stiffened shoulders offsets the comment, and Erik presses a kiss to his temple. ] I did what I believed was right-- but that's a discussion for some other time. It's alright, Charles; I'm not going anywhere.
[ Erik gravitates to him, arms securely around his ribs; for those months at the mansion, Charles had been an unending source of support for him-- at the very least, he could provide something of that understanding, and put aside his fiery ideals for two days. ] Hmm, [ He mumbles into the other's shoulder-- fingers ensnaring Charles' hand again. ] Not too cold now?
Alright. [ It's quiet and perhaps a little broken like Charles, he can't understand why all these emotions-- things he could so easily surpress in other people-- fin their way to the surface so fiercely when he's around Erik. As if his magnetism could draw out things other than that in him; as if the man himself was one giant draw to him and he'd willingly let himself get sucked in every time. A few blinks, mostly to clear his vision and give him time to breathe as he sinks further into his pull, deeper into the whirlwind. ]
No, much better now. [ His thumb traces over Erik's knuckles, comforted by the familiarity of their position despite the stark differences in situation. He tilts his head to the side a little more, brushing his cheek gently against Erik's own. ] Thank you.
Good. [ He relaxes into Charles, arms tightening around his waist just a little, and he sits quietly with him for a while, fingers moving against the sweater-- and he drops his head to rest on the telepath’s shoulder-- in a way, it is a relief to come back; to actually be able to come back-- he knows that with each passing year he’s distancing himself from Charles idealistically, but never losing that raw link. A part of him believes that there will be a day when he stands outside the window and is not welcomed back-- but until then he intends to steal as much time as he can.
He stirs, turning his head to the side to speak into the other man’s jaw-continually crowding closer to him, and it might not be enough to broach that emotional distance that has grown between them, but it’s more than nothing-and he’s willing to take what he can get after so much time spent in opposition. ] Charles-- [ He’s vaguely unsure of what they have to speak about now, because he’s been wrapped up in the brotherhood’s activities. He settles for something relatively safe. ] How has the school been progressing? Alex, Sean and Hank? Raven sends her regards, though she doesn’t know I still visit you.
Well enough. [ He murmurs, pausing to gather his wits about him. ] Alex seems to have brightened considerably recently, though that could be in part to the fact we've currently enrolled his brother-- Though Hank's been working on something for that boy, his mutation is not to dissimilar to Alex's though much harder to control. [ His free hand raises, index finger tapping against his lower lip absently, ] Hank has-- for the lack of a better word-- come to terms with being blue, he seems much better now; though very much contented to stay in his lab all the time if I'd let him. And Sean... [ A small, muffled laugh, his body leaning to the side a bit more. Fingertips sweeping upward to trace over his neck, ] He is the same as always, in the good way, though.
[ He pauses in his walk down memory lane of his first class of students and the newer ones that had come to call Xavier's home at the recollection of his-- of Raven. ] I see, it's probably for the best, coming back here the last time was very unpleasant for her. [ Charles had still been getting used to his chair when she had come around, standing in the doorway till she broke into tears, crawled into his lap and cried the afternoon while he'd done his best to comfort her. It was-- uncomfortable, but necessary. He wouldn't be any angrier at her than he would at Erik, it would do no good. ]
It's good to hear you're making progress with them-- they always were promising mutants. [ He's awkward for a moment, swallowing audibly, then raising his hand to cover the telepath's-- his thumb stroking a path over the knuckles. There is a hint of regret where the three boys are concerned, and it had been a necessary division from them-- because they believed him to be the enemy now; he'd cemented that on the beach in Cuba. Erik's unsure why he asked in the first place-- not out of fondness, surely. ] I trust you to educate them well-- they'll be better off here; Hank and Sean particularly. [ Those kids were not made for war. Though, neither was Charles. The man is too soft, too unmarred. But not unmarked by it, admittedly.]
Raven never entirely left you, Charles-- there is no way she could ever turn away from you entirely. You're her brother. [ He hopes it's something of a comfort-- and it is the truth, Raven had struggled-- he knew, to adjust to her chosen life. ] In a certain respect, it's a selfish thing to keep coming back here, you know. On my part, that is.
I think everyone can benefit from a proper education, from a proper home. [ For a moment it might seem like he's headed for an argument but he tacks on, delicately, ] But unfortunately, sometimes, that isn't an choice. [ He wanted to amend that they had missed him, too, but that wasn't terribly honest. They had been confused; rarely privy to his ire or opinion of humans it had come out nowhere for the boys, but they adapted, as mutants often did. As people did. ] They're smart boys, though, they'll do well.
[ He purses his lips and for a moment looks as if he doesn't want to continue down this path in their conversation. ] I know that-- and she knows she's welcome home any time she cares to come back. [ She had made a choice, as Erik had, and he had learned to accept it-- most nights, anyway. ]
Do you think? I don't know if I could bear the thought of you never returning.
No. Usually there is no choice, particularly in the face of a war. Certain things become sidelined for that. [ Erik moves backwards and watches Charles' face for a pointed second-- before breathing out a long breath; not quite a sigh, but still audible. He stops any sort of bite of a retaliation, and it's easy enough-- he honestly does not want tension between them; they have enough of it in the past to cover for that. ]
Yes, she did. Raven and I both did. [ Not able to keep any kind of real distance from the telepath, he shifts to slide his arms around him again, chin ducking down so that it's tucked against Charles' neck, a warm cloud of breath brushing against the skin. The familiar weight is vastly sobering, and Erik's eyes drift shut with the ache of knowing that come monday, he'll have to face another separation. He speaks quietly, hushed to a whisper by their intimate proximity. ]
Neither could I, and it's why I come back. But it's-- in a way, Charles, it's not-- fair on you; to keep you waiting with months between, and-- I can't help but return to you, because-- well, you know why.
[ He can feel the soft, growing bubble of fear when Erik pulls back-- wondering if he's finally stepped over that line and ruined their evening. He manages to take a few quiet breaths and stares, unable to find any words to soothe the situation when he feared all of this would just make it worse. It wasn't till Erik leaned back in that he felt the heavy thudding in his chest ease. He had to wonder sometimes what was so terribly wrong with him; he had never really wanted to be so stubborn, perhaps even arrogant, he had just wanted to help-- but as time wore on he found himself pushed into a box of belief that he was unable to share with anyone else. The students liked his ideals but had trouble following them as closely as he did-- it was a fight not to harm, not to kill, these days. It was becoming a smaller and smaller box and Charles wasn't sure how long it would still have room for him. ]
I made my choice, Erik. [ The words are soft, pained but affectionate. Turning his head to try and press a kiss to his ear with the other mutant tucked in so close. ] Even if you stopped returning, I'd still wait for you. [ Nimble digits gently traced along his neck, curling in the short strands there. ] I don't regret it.
[ Erik shifts even closer-- still not enough to encroach on Charles' space, but it's no longer a platonic distance; there's always been a certain lack of ambiguity in Erik's gestures; though subtle, they are unmistakably laced with genuine attachment. At the touch of the other's skin, his hand settles against Charles' neck entirely--] You're cold, [ He murmurs-- swallowing the hoarse edge in his voice. ]
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Erik's fingertips burn at the back of his neck, warm skin contrasting cold; like the fire it's almost too hot, and yet he doesn't move away, he welcomes the contact. He doesn't get much of it, not anymore, besides the occasional hand on his shoulder-- everyone's so afraid he's going to break; but if anything Charles just finds it resentful. He was wounded not ruined. He has to draw his thoughts in, because now was not the time nor the place to allow himself to become embittered; he wanted to enjoy the small gift of time. ] I left the window open far too long, got lost in my thoughts-- I'm sure you understand.
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Hmm, you did. [ Erik moves closer again, dropping his hand from Charles’ shoulder and sliding it down his spine-- more of their old intimacy in the gesture, and finally he’s right beside the telepath; other arm in its characteristic position around his waist; still under the pretence of keeping him warm-- something self-deprecating in his face, an edge of mingled concern and defeat. It always came back to this for him-- he could not, in anyway, escape the gravity of this connection that trapped them both. Charles is a deeply grounding force, centring him even now. He turns his head, nose grazing the other’s cheek. ] And, I do understand. Though, at least for my sake, remember to look after yourself. It would worry Raven to no end if you were ill.
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He can spot, with painful ease, the point on his back where he can no longer feel Erik's hand till it begins to move upward again. It's a odd sensation, as if the lower half of his body was becoming foreign to him; a dead weight that used to offer him so many opportunities. He often didn't realize how much he would miss something till it was gone; and he had learned this lesson the hard way, time and time again. ] Of course. [ A light nod, his eyes drawn toward Erik's own, watching with a light flicker, as if trying to read his expression since he kept himself out of his mind. ] I'll be more careful.
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[ When he leans forward to press his mouth to the other man's, it's chaste but lingering-- a slow reminder of the better days, and the touch is something of a benediction; their few, sanctified meetings are always hinged on bitterness. But he'd never stay away, nor stray so far that he cannot come back like he promised years ago in the hospital room. This last separation had endured for far too long; he had not been able to get away from the Hellfire club for five or so months, and each day had grated at him. ] I'm sorry I couldn't see you sooner. [ His voice is low, chest against the other man's side-- he speaks against his ear. ]
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I understand, time is... precious. [ He can hardly fault Erik when he hadn't made any ventures across the country to see him-- while that may have been more difficult in his position it was still possible. He was grateful to say the least. The little kiss earns him more of a smile and Charles leans up the best he can to return the kiss, to keep it going even when Erik is pulling back till it becomes a strain and he settles back into the couch plaintively.
One hand sliding across his own numbed thigh to Erik's, searching for his hand in an attempt to intertwine their fingers. ]
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Erik's head drops down, nose pressing softly into the other's shoulder, and it is like a final bridge between them.] It is. I would visit you far more frequently if it was in my power-- but for now we've got the weekend, at the very least.
I hope none of yours were hurt in the last confrontation. It was not my intention to harm your students, but I had no choice. [ It is not easy to go from the two opposing leaders, back into their old dynamic-- the affection is always there, just beneath the surface for him, but he has to pack away the angry accusations, your damn X-Men, and attempt to think of Charles-- chair-bound and having been abandoned by him. Erik bends to the other man's warmth, crowding into the achingly familiar form-- because he won't ever get over this; he doesn't want to. Leaning in, he kisses him again-- less chaste, and firmly, almost an apology. ]
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Then we'll enjoy the weekend. [ It's all he can hope for, a little bit at a time; something to dull that swollen ache that threatened whenever Erik had to leave-- whenever he was gone too long-- Hell, whenever Charles let his thoughts wander too far. ]
There's always a choice, Erik. [ He murmurs, but its quiet, almost painful-- as if he can't resist saying the words and yet he doesn't want to. Not now. Not really. He's terrified of starting an argument but that stubborn belief eats away at him and he can't help himself. It's almost miserable, the way he can feel his words pulling at his insides, reminding him that each one could be the the blade that cuts the last thread that tethers them together. He was a fool, twice over, and he knew it. He closes his eyes, if only to hold back his emotions, to hide the light pang of guilt from words he truly believed. Sinking into the kiss as if he were drowning and Erik was air, for the moment he wished ever so greatly that he was someone else. ]
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[ Erik gravitates to him, arms securely around his ribs; for those months at the mansion, Charles had been an unending source of support for him-- at the very least, he could provide something of that understanding, and put aside his fiery ideals for two days. ] Hmm, [ He mumbles into the other's shoulder-- fingers ensnaring Charles' hand again. ] Not too cold now?
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No, much better now. [ His thumb traces over Erik's knuckles, comforted by the familiarity of their position despite the stark differences in situation. He tilts his head to the side a little more, brushing his cheek gently against Erik's own. ] Thank you.
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He stirs, turning his head to the side to speak into the other man’s jaw-continually crowding closer to him, and it might not be enough to broach that emotional distance that has grown between them, but it’s more than nothing-and he’s willing to take what he can get after so much time spent in opposition. ] Charles-- [ He’s vaguely unsure of what they have to speak about now, because he’s been wrapped up in the brotherhood’s activities. He settles for something relatively safe. ] How has the school been progressing? Alex, Sean and Hank? Raven sends her regards, though she doesn’t know I still visit you.
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[ He pauses in his walk down memory lane of his first class of students and the newer ones that had come to call Xavier's home at the recollection of his-- of Raven. ] I see, it's probably for the best, coming back here the last time was very unpleasant for her. [ Charles had still been getting used to his chair when she had come around, standing in the doorway till she broke into tears, crawled into his lap and cried the afternoon while he'd done his best to comfort her. It was-- uncomfortable, but necessary. He wouldn't be any angrier at her than he would at Erik, it would do no good. ]
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Raven never entirely left you, Charles-- there is no way she could ever turn away from you entirely. You're her brother. [ He hopes it's something of a comfort-- and it is the truth, Raven had struggled-- he knew, to adjust to her chosen life. ] In a certain respect, it's a selfish thing to keep coming back here, you know. On my part, that is.
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[ He purses his lips and for a moment looks as if he doesn't want to continue down this path in their conversation. ] I know that-- and she knows she's welcome home any time she cares to come back. [ She had made a choice, as Erik had, and he had learned to accept it-- most nights, anyway. ]
Do you think? I don't know if I could bear the thought of you never returning.
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Yes, she did. Raven and I both did. [ Not able to keep any kind of real distance from the telepath, he shifts to slide his arms around him again, chin ducking down so that it's tucked against Charles' neck, a warm cloud of breath brushing against the skin. The familiar weight is vastly sobering, and Erik's eyes drift shut with the ache of knowing that come monday, he'll have to face another separation. He speaks quietly, hushed to a whisper by their intimate proximity. ]
Neither could I, and it's why I come back. But it's-- in a way, Charles, it's not-- fair on you; to keep you waiting with months between, and-- I can't help but return to you, because-- well, you know why.
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I made my choice, Erik. [ The words are soft, pained but affectionate. Turning his head to try and press a kiss to his ear with the other mutant tucked in so close. ] Even if you stopped returning, I'd still wait for you. [ Nimble digits gently traced along his neck, curling in the short strands there. ] I don't regret it.
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