Carry pictures where your money used to be, [Erik/mpreg!Charles] 1/?
Title: Carry pictures where your money used to be
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Summary: Based on THIS prompt (which I've filled there too, but the chapter here is the more polished version). The latest recruit at Xavier's Institute is there for a special purpose: to take care of seven unruly, superpowered children. Between that and their two powerful, ultra-scary dads who can never seem to agree on anything, he's prepared to have the time of his life. Contains mpreg!lotsofchildren!Charles.
Rating: NC-17 for oncoming sexytiemz
Warnings: Mpreg
“So what exactly do your powers entail, Cal?”
Cal snapped out of his reverie. He had just been thinking of the home, of Elli and Katherine and lovely Demelza, who he would all miss but holy crap was he not going to pass on an opportunity like this. He knew the moment it had been presented to him by a posh Englishman who picked him up in a vintage car, that those were the sort of offers you just didn’t turn down.
“Well,” he swallowed. All of a sudden, each prolonged twang of vowels felt too harsh for the sleek leather seats and the rich Brit in the driver’s seat. “I get memories from touching things. Sounds weird, I know.”
“Fascinating. And your voice is lovely.” How did he-? The man, Charles (he had said) smiled, but kept his eyes on the road. “Imagine the possibilities. How about touching living creatures?”
“No, unfortunately not. I’ve tried, honestly.” And he really had, but had come to accept the beauty in his abilities anyway. As limited as they might have seemed, they’re what led him to the nursing home after he’d traveled from the south, leaving behind a house full of precarious objects that reminded him in more ways than one, of an alcoholic, abusive father.
Charles had somehow known this, even though the only friends Cal had were the ladies he took care of and even they’d never bothered with his origins. Charles had known, he was sure of it - from the sheer sincerity in his tone when he said he knew what Cal must have gone through, and that they could help each other very well. That there was a place for him.
He pressed a fingertip against the face of Charles’ watch “I can tell, for example, that your watch has certainly seen better days, like when it was purchased from an antique shop around forty-three years ago sparkling-brand new, and the man who slammed the back of his hand against the drawer regretted scratching it immediately after.”
“My father,” Charles confessed. There was a far away look in his eyes. “Do you receive memories without meaning to as well?”
“Sometimes. Like, I’m getting some really vivid images of you and a man in the backseat and… I’m sorry, that must be Erik, isn’t it? He’s very…” Cal blinked. “…Enthusiastic.”
Charles actually flushed and Cal noticed the lines on his face and the dark hues under his eyes, which were otherwise brilliantly blue. Piece by piece, it was beginning to make sense why such a put-together man would come to him for help.
“Yes, that’s my partner, Erik. I’m sorry your first impression of him isn’t exactly in a professional light.”
“Hey, it happens.”
Charles coughed and changed the subject. “I must thank you, by the way, for agreeing on such short notice. Did you know that your name means ‘calf herder’? In these circumstances, that’s strangely fitting.”
“Right, and I can’t wait to meet the scamps.” Cal couldn’t stifle his look of wonderment at how Charles sounded like the long lost uncle everyone wish they had to invite them over for biscuits and tea, yet retained the appearance of a regular thirty-something guy. Was that his mutation? He decided to ask.
The response he got was a hearty chuckle. “Thank you for that, er, compliment, but one of my mutations is actually telepathy.”
“One of? And you mean you can read minds and all that?”
’Yes’, echoed Charles’ voice in his head, which actually made Cal jump. ’And aside from giving you very generous compensation for all your troubles, I promise not to pry.’
“Oh,” he said numbly. “No problem.” He was mentally reeling again, from the realization of his life turning upside-down in less than a day. The strange mixture of happy-homesick-amazed intensified when the vehicle pulled into a long pebble driveway, and the trees dissipated to reveal a mansion in the distance.
“Oh my goodness that is the biggest house I have ever seen in my life, I am going to love this place.”
“I say reserve judgment until you see what you’ll have to deal with,” Charles said, lips quirking.
Cal had to calm himself down enough not to bound to the front door after leaping from the car, and rap on it like a maniac. He was easily excitable, a well-known fact, that the elderly had appreciated (youthfulness was rare around there, they said). He hoped it would be the same way here, at least, but in the meantime, he tailed behind Charles, who hadn’t even touched the door when it flew open. Before he could ask if that was Charles’ mutation, a man came barreling at them both, his voice at an angry pitch.
“Charles! Charles, I was worried sick - did you drive? You actually drove, you know how unsafe that is? God da-“ Cal realized that Erik looked quite different with a shirt on, a thick black turtleneck that amplified the glower being sent his way. “Who. Are you.”
Charles sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Erik, this is Cal. He’s going to help us with our little problem.”
“I told you we didn’t need a nanny, let alone your old human nanny.”
“Actually, I’m a mutant. Cal’s my name, and I’m quite new.” he interjected. Erik’s steely glare softened, though that might’ve been because he transferred his gaze back to Charles. They seemed to be having a mental conversation that he wasn’t part of, and despite the fact that the two were gnashing their teeth at each other, Cal suppressed the urge to sigh ‘ah, love’. They felt like a family, sniping and secretly smoldering looks and all, and a serene warmth emanated from the entire place that he appreciated. It was a fresh change from his former workplace, which, although he enjoyed, reeked of abandonment from the scum who had decided one day that parents were too much of a bother to look after themselves.
“Thank you, Cal, but your services will not be required. You may stay, of course, as a student, but we can handle ourselves just fine.”
“How ‘bout I meet them anyway, to see if that’s true?” He responded cheerfully. Erik looked slightly disconcerted, most likely expecting him to have withered under that glare but for Cal, dealing with cranky people was pretty much his job. And he had dealt with them - even when they beat him with canes and walkers - for the latter part of his life. An overprotective dad wouldn’t deter him, even though, out of the corner of his eye, he had noticed the chandelier above them sway threateningly.
“Fine,” Erik finally said. He turned around. “HANK! Bring them out here!”
An awkward minute later, Cal found himself staring at the blue creature that lumbered in on two legs. It -- Hank, Charles corrected in his head and Cal apologized back - Hank was pushing a playpen on wheels, which housed at least five bawling children in varying heights. Hank had one extra boy dangling under one of his arms, and a slightly smaller girl clung to his leg.
Cal was starting to sweat.
They watched in silence (Erik in unabashed amusement) as Hank grunted and pried the children from his limbs. Sections of his fur were matted and a few bald patches could be seen here and there. The clumps of blue fisted in the girl’s hands as she plopped down on the floor were telling signs.
“I’m gonna go now and clean what’s left of my fur,” Hank said dryly, and walked off. Charles walked to the pen and stooped down to kiss the kids one by one. The boy and the girl Hank left on the floor ran over to him and clung to his legs.
“See? We manage them perfectly fine,” Erik said, seemingly ignoring the bawling of at least three of his children. Charles’ features darkened momentarily before he smiled at Cal and beckoned him over.
“This is Francis, our eldest, followed by Edie.” He patted the ones still glued to his knees. Cal stared at Francis. He had Charles’ hair and the same blue eyes, but when heturned his head and coughed, a stream of fire singed the carpet. Edie had long hair tied up in a ponytail, and a multitude of small steel balls floating around her head, and she giggled and shot one of them at Cal. It bounced off his hip. “I’m afraid Edie’s inherited more than just Erik’s powers,” Charles said wryly, and moved on to the rest.
“These are Pietro and Wanda. They’re twins.” The siblings were wrestling with each other, shrieking all the while, and one of the clips in Wanda’s hair promptly ricocheted off Pietro’s head, which sent him into a fit of tears. “Never take your eyes off Pietro, he has superspeed, you see.”
“Not that you’ll be taking care of him,” Erik interjected, walking up to the pen and picking up one of the remaining children. It was a toddler, who mumbled “Dada,” as Erik pressed him to his chest. Cal smiled; their hair matched, down to the shade and short, clipped style.
“Wipe that smile off your face, man. Max here’ll hypnotize you the first chance he gets.”
“Erik,” Charles admonished; the other man merely shrugged and whispered in Max’s ear. German, Cal observed. The family was shaping up to be weirder than he thought, and they hadn’t even gotten past the introductions.
“David,” Charles said, lifting a baby from the pen.
“Careful, Charles.”
“I’m fine, Erik,” he said, swaying slightly. “David just took my handkerchief, as you can see-“ Sure enough, the blue, square-shaped piece of cloth was levitating a few inches away from the boy’s palm. “Better not let Jean see you doing that or she’ll insist on having you as a playmate.”
He handed David to Erik, who shifted Max to one arm and gripped both babies with an expression that made him look like he was prepared to juggle them.
“Last not but not least is young James sleeping in the corner,” Charles pointed out. It was a miracle that the other children hadn’t fallen on him by accident, but then again, Pietro was simply standing in place and wailing while Wanda made faces at him.
“What’s his power?” Cal dared to ask. The other two men exchanged a look that he could not decipher.
“Ah, we’re not sure yet. It hasn’t manifested.”
“But it will soon,” Erik said, perhaps too confidently. “So you can trot along now and maybe join the other students…”
“Erik, we need him.”
“No, we do not. We can handle this.” They were sniping at each other once more, and Cal almost wanted to side with Erik just to avoid causing an ill-fated argument between the two. He sort of agreed with the man since clearly they loved their children and it showed, but the matching clueless-dad faces were suspicious. It also didn’t help that there was a tension between the two that spoke of a uncomfortable distance.
They certainly had other issues to deal with aside from the kids problem.
Cal cast a look at the smoking carpet, which everyone was ignoring; at Pietro who had been crying the whole time, at Edie, who was deliberately putting holes in the wall as she zoomed the metal balls into them; at Wanda, who had just made her side of the fence clatter to the floor, giving her freedom; and at the two babies in Erik’s arms. He looked ready to beat Cal with them.
This was handling it, the same way ol’ Demelza claimed to handle her liquor, even though every week they found her passed out next to the pool and she was still as healthy as a horse. She reinforced that idea every time she kicked one of her caretakers in the face.
How the house was still standing? And on a completely different note, Cal wondered how they succeeded multiple times at getting surrogates when he had heard from several sources that such a thing, even once, was near impossible given the demand.
He was going to go crazy just trying to figure out this family, but what the hey.
“With all due respect, sir,” he said. “I think you could really use the help and I’m terrified, but extremely willing. Though I do have one question…” Which wasn’t true. He had a thousand, but decided to go with the most innocent one he could think of. “Mister, um, Charles,” he said slowly. “What made you decide to get a babysitter now?”
“Well…” Charles said, briefly avoiding his gaze.
“He doesn’t know yet,” Erik said, brows furrowing.
“You see, Cal, I’m afraid I neglected to tell you one important detail about me. It’s still mind-blowing to most, you must understand why I was reluctant to....”
“God, You didn’t even tell him,” Erik remarked disbelievingly.
“Tell me what?”
Charles slowly placed a hand on his belly and gave him a weak smile.
“Francis, Edie, Wanda, Pietro, Max, David and James aren’t the complete bunch. At least, not anymore. There’s one more on the way; I’m expecting our eighth child, mine and Erik’s.”
“Well…” Cal’s head was spinning. He almost wanted Charles to mentally right it with telepathic voodoo, but asking a self-confessed pregnant person a favor seemed all too rude now. “Isn’t that just dandy?”
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Summary: Based on THIS prompt (which I've filled there too, but the chapter here is the more polished version). The latest recruit at Xavier's Institute is there for a special purpose: to take care of seven unruly, superpowered children. Between that and their two powerful, ultra-scary dads who can never seem to agree on anything, he's prepared to have the time of his life. Contains mpreg!lotsofchildren!Charles.
Rating: NC-17 for oncoming sexytiemz
Warnings: Mpreg
“So what exactly do your powers entail, Cal?”
Cal snapped out of his reverie. He had just been thinking of the home, of Elli and Katherine and lovely Demelza, who he would all miss but holy crap was he not going to pass on an opportunity like this. He knew the moment it had been presented to him by a posh Englishman who picked him up in a vintage car, that those were the sort of offers you just didn’t turn down.
“Well,” he swallowed. All of a sudden, each prolonged twang of vowels felt too harsh for the sleek leather seats and the rich Brit in the driver’s seat. “I get memories from touching things. Sounds weird, I know.”
“Fascinating. And your voice is lovely.” How did he-? The man, Charles (he had said) smiled, but kept his eyes on the road. “Imagine the possibilities. How about touching living creatures?”
“No, unfortunately not. I’ve tried, honestly.” And he really had, but had come to accept the beauty in his abilities anyway. As limited as they might have seemed, they’re what led him to the nursing home after he’d traveled from the south, leaving behind a house full of precarious objects that reminded him in more ways than one, of an alcoholic, abusive father.
Charles had somehow known this, even though the only friends Cal had were the ladies he took care of and even they’d never bothered with his origins. Charles had known, he was sure of it - from the sheer sincerity in his tone when he said he knew what Cal must have gone through, and that they could help each other very well. That there was a place for him.
He pressed a fingertip against the face of Charles’ watch “I can tell, for example, that your watch has certainly seen better days, like when it was purchased from an antique shop around forty-three years ago sparkling-brand new, and the man who slammed the back of his hand against the drawer regretted scratching it immediately after.”
“My father,” Charles confessed. There was a far away look in his eyes. “Do you receive memories without meaning to as well?”
“Sometimes. Like, I’m getting some really vivid images of you and a man in the backseat and… I’m sorry, that must be Erik, isn’t it? He’s very…” Cal blinked. “…Enthusiastic.”
Charles actually flushed and Cal noticed the lines on his face and the dark hues under his eyes, which were otherwise brilliantly blue. Piece by piece, it was beginning to make sense why such a put-together man would come to him for help.
“Yes, that’s my partner, Erik. I’m sorry your first impression of him isn’t exactly in a professional light.”
“Hey, it happens.”
Charles coughed and changed the subject. “I must thank you, by the way, for agreeing on such short notice. Did you know that your name means ‘calf herder’? In these circumstances, that’s strangely fitting.”
“Right, and I can’t wait to meet the scamps.” Cal couldn’t stifle his look of wonderment at how Charles sounded like the long lost uncle everyone wish they had to invite them over for biscuits and tea, yet retained the appearance of a regular thirty-something guy. Was that his mutation? He decided to ask.
The response he got was a hearty chuckle. “Thank you for that, er, compliment, but one of my mutations is actually telepathy.”
“One of? And you mean you can read minds and all that?”
’Yes’, echoed Charles’ voice in his head, which actually made Cal jump. ’And aside from giving you very generous compensation for all your troubles, I promise not to pry.’
“Oh,” he said numbly. “No problem.” He was mentally reeling again, from the realization of his life turning upside-down in less than a day. The strange mixture of happy-homesick-amazed intensified when the vehicle pulled into a long pebble driveway, and the trees dissipated to reveal a mansion in the distance.
“Oh my goodness that is the biggest house I have ever seen in my life, I am going to love this place.”
“I say reserve judgment until you see what you’ll have to deal with,” Charles said, lips quirking.
Cal had to calm himself down enough not to bound to the front door after leaping from the car, and rap on it like a maniac. He was easily excitable, a well-known fact, that the elderly had appreciated (youthfulness was rare around there, they said). He hoped it would be the same way here, at least, but in the meantime, he tailed behind Charles, who hadn’t even touched the door when it flew open. Before he could ask if that was Charles’ mutation, a man came barreling at them both, his voice at an angry pitch.
“Charles! Charles, I was worried sick - did you drive? You actually drove, you know how unsafe that is? God da-“ Cal realized that Erik looked quite different with a shirt on, a thick black turtleneck that amplified the glower being sent his way. “Who. Are you.”
Charles sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Erik, this is Cal. He’s going to help us with our little problem.”
“I told you we didn’t need a nanny, let alone your old human nanny.”
“Actually, I’m a mutant. Cal’s my name, and I’m quite new.” he interjected. Erik’s steely glare softened, though that might’ve been because he transferred his gaze back to Charles. They seemed to be having a mental conversation that he wasn’t part of, and despite the fact that the two were gnashing their teeth at each other, Cal suppressed the urge to sigh ‘ah, love’. They felt like a family, sniping and secretly smoldering looks and all, and a serene warmth emanated from the entire place that he appreciated. It was a fresh change from his former workplace, which, although he enjoyed, reeked of abandonment from the scum who had decided one day that parents were too much of a bother to look after themselves.
“Thank you, Cal, but your services will not be required. You may stay, of course, as a student, but we can handle ourselves just fine.”
“How ‘bout I meet them anyway, to see if that’s true?” He responded cheerfully. Erik looked slightly disconcerted, most likely expecting him to have withered under that glare but for Cal, dealing with cranky people was pretty much his job. And he had dealt with them - even when they beat him with canes and walkers - for the latter part of his life. An overprotective dad wouldn’t deter him, even though, out of the corner of his eye, he had noticed the chandelier above them sway threateningly.
“Fine,” Erik finally said. He turned around. “HANK! Bring them out here!”
An awkward minute later, Cal found himself staring at the blue creature that lumbered in on two legs. It -- Hank, Charles corrected in his head and Cal apologized back - Hank was pushing a playpen on wheels, which housed at least five bawling children in varying heights. Hank had one extra boy dangling under one of his arms, and a slightly smaller girl clung to his leg.
Cal was starting to sweat.
They watched in silence (Erik in unabashed amusement) as Hank grunted and pried the children from his limbs. Sections of his fur were matted and a few bald patches could be seen here and there. The clumps of blue fisted in the girl’s hands as she plopped down on the floor were telling signs.
“I’m gonna go now and clean what’s left of my fur,” Hank said dryly, and walked off. Charles walked to the pen and stooped down to kiss the kids one by one. The boy and the girl Hank left on the floor ran over to him and clung to his legs.
“See? We manage them perfectly fine,” Erik said, seemingly ignoring the bawling of at least three of his children. Charles’ features darkened momentarily before he smiled at Cal and beckoned him over.
“This is Francis, our eldest, followed by Edie.” He patted the ones still glued to his knees. Cal stared at Francis. He had Charles’ hair and the same blue eyes, but when heturned his head and coughed, a stream of fire singed the carpet. Edie had long hair tied up in a ponytail, and a multitude of small steel balls floating around her head, and she giggled and shot one of them at Cal. It bounced off his hip. “I’m afraid Edie’s inherited more than just Erik’s powers,” Charles said wryly, and moved on to the rest.
“These are Pietro and Wanda. They’re twins.” The siblings were wrestling with each other, shrieking all the while, and one of the clips in Wanda’s hair promptly ricocheted off Pietro’s head, which sent him into a fit of tears. “Never take your eyes off Pietro, he has superspeed, you see.”
“Not that you’ll be taking care of him,” Erik interjected, walking up to the pen and picking up one of the remaining children. It was a toddler, who mumbled “Dada,” as Erik pressed him to his chest. Cal smiled; their hair matched, down to the shade and short, clipped style.
“Wipe that smile off your face, man. Max here’ll hypnotize you the first chance he gets.”
“Erik,” Charles admonished; the other man merely shrugged and whispered in Max’s ear. German, Cal observed. The family was shaping up to be weirder than he thought, and they hadn’t even gotten past the introductions.
“David,” Charles said, lifting a baby from the pen.
“Careful, Charles.”
“I’m fine, Erik,” he said, swaying slightly. “David just took my handkerchief, as you can see-“ Sure enough, the blue, square-shaped piece of cloth was levitating a few inches away from the boy’s palm. “Better not let Jean see you doing that or she’ll insist on having you as a playmate.”
He handed David to Erik, who shifted Max to one arm and gripped both babies with an expression that made him look like he was prepared to juggle them.
“Last not but not least is young James sleeping in the corner,” Charles pointed out. It was a miracle that the other children hadn’t fallen on him by accident, but then again, Pietro was simply standing in place and wailing while Wanda made faces at him.
“What’s his power?” Cal dared to ask. The other two men exchanged a look that he could not decipher.
“Ah, we’re not sure yet. It hasn’t manifested.”
“But it will soon,” Erik said, perhaps too confidently. “So you can trot along now and maybe join the other students…”
“Erik, we need him.”
“No, we do not. We can handle this.” They were sniping at each other once more, and Cal almost wanted to side with Erik just to avoid causing an ill-fated argument between the two. He sort of agreed with the man since clearly they loved their children and it showed, but the matching clueless-dad faces were suspicious. It also didn’t help that there was a tension between the two that spoke of a uncomfortable distance.
They certainly had other issues to deal with aside from the kids problem.
Cal cast a look at the smoking carpet, which everyone was ignoring; at Pietro who had been crying the whole time, at Edie, who was deliberately putting holes in the wall as she zoomed the metal balls into them; at Wanda, who had just made her side of the fence clatter to the floor, giving her freedom; and at the two babies in Erik’s arms. He looked ready to beat Cal with them.
This was handling it, the same way ol’ Demelza claimed to handle her liquor, even though every week they found her passed out next to the pool and she was still as healthy as a horse. She reinforced that idea every time she kicked one of her caretakers in the face.
How the house was still standing? And on a completely different note, Cal wondered how they succeeded multiple times at getting surrogates when he had heard from several sources that such a thing, even once, was near impossible given the demand.
He was going to go crazy just trying to figure out this family, but what the hey.
“With all due respect, sir,” he said. “I think you could really use the help and I’m terrified, but extremely willing. Though I do have one question…” Which wasn’t true. He had a thousand, but decided to go with the most innocent one he could think of. “Mister, um, Charles,” he said slowly. “What made you decide to get a babysitter now?”
“Well…” Charles said, briefly avoiding his gaze.
“He doesn’t know yet,” Erik said, brows furrowing.
“You see, Cal, I’m afraid I neglected to tell you one important detail about me. It’s still mind-blowing to most, you must understand why I was reluctant to....”
“God, You didn’t even tell him,” Erik remarked disbelievingly.
“Tell me what?”
Charles slowly placed a hand on his belly and gave him a weak smile.
“Francis, Edie, Wanda, Pietro, Max, David and James aren’t the complete bunch. At least, not anymore. There’s one more on the way; I’m expecting our eighth child, mine and Erik’s.”
“Well…” Cal’s head was spinning. He almost wanted Charles to mentally right it with telepathic voodoo, but asking a self-confessed pregnant person a favor seemed all too rude now. “Isn’t that just dandy?”