Date Night [X-Men: First Class fic]
Title: Date Night
Characters/Pairing: Charles/Erik, Alex, Raven, Hank, Sean
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~3000
Summary: Erik thinks he would be more touched at the children's obvious investment in his and Charles' relationship if it didn't imply such a lack of confidence in his abilities.
Note: Written for this 1stclass_kink prompt. Basically, the kids try to help Erik date Charles. Erik is not amused.
"So," Alex says, chewing on a piece of burnt toast, "I hear you're taking the Prof out on a date."
Erik sends him a quelling look as he stirs pancake batter in preparation for Charles and the rest of the children when they wake. "I simply asked Charles if he would dine with me outside of this infernal mausoleum." Charles' mansion feels simultaneously like the home Erik has always searched for and somewhere that he emphatically should not belong, the high stone walls and endless, dimly-lit hallways so unlike the series of motels and abandoned buildings he usually frequents between hunting down Shaw. It throws him off balance, as everything about and relating to Charles seems to.
"Wow, way to insult the guy's ancestral home and expect him to take it as a compliment," Alex says. "I shudder to think what you'll say to him over dinner." He slouches against the counter and adds, "Okay, regale me. What are your moves?"
"My moves?" Erik asks.
"Yeah," Alex says, undeterred. "Like, how are you going to woo him? Fancy restaurant? Get the waiter to bring you a candle for the table? Tight pants?"
"I am going to buy him dinner and carry on a conversation," Erik says, suddenly unsure. Hunting down Nazis hasn't exactly left much time for practicing the subtle art of dating.
"Whoa," Alex says, "This is worse than I thought." Hank wanders into the kitchen and Alex immediately loops an arm around his shoulders and steers him back the way he came. "Don't worry," Alex calls to Erik. "We'll help you out. I'll get a focus group together."
--
Raven arrives at Erik's room two hours before he and Charles are due to go to dinner.
"You have reservations at Arrosto and I'm helping you pick out something to wear," she informs him, pushing her way through the door and throwing open Erik's closet. "Wow," she says, "Do you have something against color?"
"I didn't ask for your opinion," Erik says, annoyed.
Raven whirls on him. "No," she says, "No, you didn't ask my for my opinion. You also did not ask my opinion on your dating my brother, who, by the way, is my only family and if you hurt him in any way, I will end you."
Erik stares. "I..."
"Lucky for you, I do reluctantly approve of you for the time being because Charles clearly thinks the sun shines out your ass," Raven steamrollers on. "That, however, does not mean that you will not make every effort to be the epitome of a gentleman. You will be kind. You will be courteous. And you will be well-dressed. Now change into these," Raven commands, throwing a pair of slacks, a sports jacket and a button-up--all black--at him.
Erik does as he's told.
--
Erik is headed to meet Charles in the foyer when a hand reaches out and drags him into one of the mansion's billion guestrooms.
Hank, Raven and Sean are perched on the bed and Alex closes the door. "Good work," Alex says to Raven, surveying Erik's attire and brushing out the wrinkles he created in Erik's left sleeve by unceremoniously kidnapping him from the fucking hallway.
"I have somewhere to be," Erik says impatiently.
"Hey," Alex says, "You're not the only one who stands to lose from this endeavor. If shit goes sideways, we'll have to put up with you brooding around the mansion and throwing Sean off the satellite dish some more and the Professor will probably mope around like a sad, downtrodden puppy before focusing his attention on new, excruciating training drills for us."
Erik knows that most of this prophecy will probably come true regardless of tonight's success, but the you might make Charles sad bit grips him inescapably. "Fine," he allows, "But present the results of your 'focus group' quickly. I will not keep Charles waiting."
"Awesome," Alex says. "Okay, so I see Raven already made sure you took my advice about the tight pants. Good call. Other things: open doors for him and pull out his chair at the table once you get to the restaurant. And don't cheat by using your powers," Alex adds, making twitching movements with his hands. "Put in some actual fucking effort."
"I agree to those terms," Erik says, turning to leave.
"Hey, we're not finished!" Sean says.
Erik turns back. "Do not even think of giving me advice," he tells Sean. "I witnessed firsthand your appalling failure at getting even as far as I have."
Sean holds up his palms like surrender and mimes closing a zipper across his lips. Erik smiles. The boy has been pleasingly obedient since Erik pushed him off the satellite dish.
"Fine, moving on," Alex says, conciliatory. "Hank?"
Erik can't imagine Hank has ever been on a date before, but Erik is willing to acknowledge that the boy shares a certain nerdy, scientific kinship with Charles. He tips his head and nods to show his attention. "Um, try not to blank out when he talks about science?" Hank offers.
"And give him these," Raven intervenes, shoving a bouquet of flowers at Erik before he can roll his eyes at Hank and decimate the kid's fragile self-esteem.
"This has been immeasurably beneficial," Erik says, deadpan.
--
Still, Erik has to admit, when he offers Charles the bunch of sunflowers and iris, Charles' smile is radiant. "Thank you, Erik. I'll just put them in water" Charles says, eyes soft, as he slips off to the kitchen for a vase.
"Told you," Raven says, appearing at Erik's elbow like an apparition.
Erik jolts. "Yes, thank you," he says. A horrific thought occurs to him. "Please tell me you don't intend to chaperone this date."
"Oh, no," Raven laughs, moderately convincing. "I will be going to the restaurant for a minute to help you with one last thing though."
"What?" Erik says, unsure whether he wants to hear the answer.
"Okay," Raven says, "It'll go down like this. Charles will give his stupid tweed coat to the maitre d' to put in the cloak room. I'll make sure it gets permanently lost."
"What on earth is that supposed to accomplish?" Erik asks.
Raven gives him a look that implies he is both incredibly slow and she may rescind her approval of him courting her brother. "I, of course, defer to your expertise with Charles," he backtracks quickly. "I simply don't understand your purpose."
Raven looks mollified. "It's cold outside and Charles will be without a jacket. It's the prefect opportunity to offer him yours."
Erik considers how Charles will look wrapped in his dark jacket, at least two sizes too large, the sleeves slipping over Charles' slim, pale wrists. It's fascinating. Erik clears his throat. Raven smirks at him and slips away as Charles returns sans flowers.
--
The restaurant is exceedingly posh and Erik can only hope that his credit card won't be declined. He knows that Charles would never think less of him, that the man will certainly try to insist upon paying the bill himself, but it's a matter of principle.
Erik watches Charles hand away his tweed coat, knowing that he'll never see it again.
The hostess leads them to a table in the corner and Erik pulls out Charles' chair, manually, even though the metal screws and hinges holding it together are singing to him. Charles thanks him, his eyes twinkling, like he understands the joke.
Over drinks, Charles tells him about meeting Raven, about how they grew up together in the huge, half-empty house, playing tricks on Charles' unkind step-father who only ever thought about money when he thought of Charles' mother.
Erik finds himself talking about his own mother, about the bright new-old memories Charles has helped him recover by teaching him the balance between serenity and anger. Charles reaches across the table to hold his hand for a brief moment before the waitress sets down their entrees.
And, of course, Charles talks about science. Erik doesn't quite understand most of what Charles says about gametes and chromosomes, but he does follow the bit where Charles says, with endearing enthusiasm, "Mutation took us from single cells organisms to being the dominant form of reproductive life on this planet. Infinite forms of variation with each generation, all through mutation." Charles runs a hand through the waves of his hair and smiles at Erik. "And you, my friend, have a very groovy mutation," he says. Their waitress, who is refilling the wine glasses, snorts loudly and spills a bit on Erik's shirt.
"Oh, shit," she says. "I'm so sorry."
"It's fine," Erik says, as she tries to dab at him with a napkin, "Can you point me toward the restrooms?"
Erik almost has a heart attack when he turns the corner that apparently leads to the restrooms and half trips over Hank, Sean and Alex, who have somehow acquired busboy aprons and are busily sorting silverware.
"Look," Alex says, trying to stop a fork from stabbing him in the jugular, "We were worried, okay?"
"I assume Raven is still here somewhere?" Erik says, rubbing his temples to stave off a migraine.
"She knocked out your waitress and took her place so she could make sure you were taking Hank's advice about not blanking out while the Professor told you about his thesis," Alex says.
Erik thinks he would be more touched at the children's obvious investment in his and Charles' relationship if it didn't imply such a lack of confidence in his abilities.
Erik sighs and decides to make the best of things. He looks at Hank who pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose nervously, the way he usually does when Erik focuses attention on him. "At times I have very little idea what Charles is talking about," Erik admits. He doesn't admit to being distracted by the shape of Charles' lips or the brightness of his eyes as he expounds on what he clearly considers a particularly fine point. "What would be an appropriate response to 'according to the law of independent assortment, the chromosomes that end up in the newly created gamete are arranged at random from all potential combinations of maternal and paternal chromosomes.'"
Hank immediately lights up. "He's talking to you about Mendelism and inheritance? I wanted to speak with him about just that subject. I'm doing an experiment on..." he trails off, making an abortive movement toward where Charles is waiting at the table, as if Charles wouldn't notice him taking Erik's place and continuing the conversation in his stead.
Erik puts a subduing hand on his chest. "Just give me an intelligent sentence I can reasonably interject when he finally pauses for a breath."
Hank considers. "Ask him what the chances are that the child of a mutant will inherit the allele which resulted in the parent's mutation."
"Forgive me, Charles," Erik says, sitting back down at their table. "We were discussing Mendel's theory of inheritance. What do you suppose are the chances that the child of a mutant will inherit the allele which resulted in the parent's mutation?"
Charles smiles, quick and brilliant, and says, "That's exactly what I want to discover! I wonder if Hank would have time to help me conduct an experiment."
--
Charles takes the loss of his tweed coat in stride. In Erik's borrowed jacket, the cuffs slipping over his hands entirely in a way Erik had not anticipated, Charles looks warm and delicate, like something Erik could protect, could keep. Erik has the sudden urge to get him home as quickly as possible.
This is, of course, when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Raven and Alex motioning furiously and mouthing over here!
"I've forgotten my...cigarette lighter," Erik improvises before the frenetic waving of the children can attract Charles' attention. He veers back into the restaurant entrance quickly, hissing, "What could you possibly have to say to me right at this exact moment?"
"You're on your own from here on, so we need to cover the final agenda," Alex says.
"Goodnight kiss, stay the night, make him breakfast," Raven lists, ticking the points off on her fingers and placing hard emphasis on stay the night as if Erik would ever leave Charles' bed by choice.
"What makes you think it won't go goodnight kiss and then beg for a second date?" Erik asks.
"Please," Raven scoffs, "Charles reaction to the slightest bit of attention from you has always been completely disproportionate. If you kiss him, you're going to end up in his bed."
Hank flushes and Sean groans, flinging a hand up over his eyes like he's been blinded by the mental images, but Alex nods. "Even you could not screw this up at this point of the evening," he says, encouragingly.
--
Erik does not screw up. He walks Charles to his room, their hands connected and swinging between them, all easy affection. At his door, Charles lets out a sudden laugh, like he can't hold it in anymore. "I'm sorry if the children made tonight difficult for you," he says, grinning.
"You knew?" Erik says, resting his forehead against the doorjamb in despair.
"Our waitress had a distinct hint of Raven. And the boys were thinking very loudly about how they didn't want you to kill them with cutlery when you got up to the restroom," Charles says, apologetically. He presses a kiss to Erik's cheek to soothe the sting of mortification. "I think it was incredibly sweet how hard our children tried to make sure everything was right, how hard you all tried. I think it was a great success, if you care to know," Charles adds, his voice gone low, eyes half-lidded.
"Do you?" Erik asks.
"I do," Charles says and grabs a double fistful of Erik's shirt to drag him over the threshold and into a kiss. He kicks the door closed behind them. "I hope the children weren't planning to monitor this portion of the evening," Charles says, breathless.
Erik mentally locks every door in the mansion, just in case.
--
Erik is cooking omelets and thinking fondly of the way Charles looked in the pre-dawn light, eyelashes fluttering, body curled toward Erik like a flower toward the sun, when his reverie is rudely interrupted.
"What the hell are you doing down here?" Raven yells, grabbing the whisk from him and shaking it in his face. Drops of egg fly wildly. "When I said 'stay the night' I meant until Charles woke up, not just until dawn! Making breakfast does not supersede being there when Charles wakes up!"
She looks ready to start beating him with the whisk, so Erik quickly removes it from her grasp, replacing it with a cup of coffee.
If last night had shown him anything--besides the fact that he loves Charles enough not to murder the miscreants that Charles had sentimentally referred to as "our children"--it was that, where Charles' heart is concerned, Raven could be either a terrific ally or a horrifying enemy.
"I did not leave Charles without so much as a kiss good morning," Erik says, mildly offended. "He was at least half-conscious when I told him I was going to make breakfast. He said he would be down in five minutes," Erik says, neglecting to mention that Charles said this over twenty minutes ago. Erik is eminently willing to grant him leeway. Charles is sore and worn-out from last night's activities and it's not unreasonable that he is slow at getting ready or has fallen back to sleep altogether, in which case Erik will bring breakfast to him.
"Oh," Raven says, sipping at her coffee for a long moment. "I just...I just want him to be happy," she says awkwardly. "I know he can seem so naive, so optimistic that it seems impossible he's ever been hurt by anyone, but," Raven falters, "Charles hasn't always been happy, Erik."
"I will endeavor to make sure that he is from this point forward," Erik promises.
Charles staggers into the kitchen a moment later in his pin-stripe pajamas, hair disheveled, a telling red mark just visible at the join of his neck and shoulder.
"Good morning, brother," Raven says.
"Good morning, sister," Charles replies. He wanders over to Erik, smiling, a pillow crease imprinted on his cheek. Erik can't not kiss him. Charles turns off the stove and walks them backward toward the kitchen island.
Erik hefts Charles up onto the counter to better match their heights.
"Oh, God, what have we done?" Sean laments from the doorway. When Erik turns to glare, the entire pack of them are grinning hugely, though Hank's face is blushing fire-engine red.
Alex whistles. "Go, Mr. Lehnsherr!"
"Seriously," Erik says, "Get out."
Comments are loved.
Characters/Pairing: Charles/Erik, Alex, Raven, Hank, Sean
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~3000
Summary: Erik thinks he would be more touched at the children's obvious investment in his and Charles' relationship if it didn't imply such a lack of confidence in his abilities.
Note: Written for this 1stclass_kink prompt. Basically, the kids try to help Erik date Charles. Erik is not amused.
"So," Alex says, chewing on a piece of burnt toast, "I hear you're taking the Prof out on a date."
Erik sends him a quelling look as he stirs pancake batter in preparation for Charles and the rest of the children when they wake. "I simply asked Charles if he would dine with me outside of this infernal mausoleum." Charles' mansion feels simultaneously like the home Erik has always searched for and somewhere that he emphatically should not belong, the high stone walls and endless, dimly-lit hallways so unlike the series of motels and abandoned buildings he usually frequents between hunting down Shaw. It throws him off balance, as everything about and relating to Charles seems to.
"Wow, way to insult the guy's ancestral home and expect him to take it as a compliment," Alex says. "I shudder to think what you'll say to him over dinner." He slouches against the counter and adds, "Okay, regale me. What are your moves?"
"My moves?" Erik asks.
"Yeah," Alex says, undeterred. "Like, how are you going to woo him? Fancy restaurant? Get the waiter to bring you a candle for the table? Tight pants?"
"I am going to buy him dinner and carry on a conversation," Erik says, suddenly unsure. Hunting down Nazis hasn't exactly left much time for practicing the subtle art of dating.
"Whoa," Alex says, "This is worse than I thought." Hank wanders into the kitchen and Alex immediately loops an arm around his shoulders and steers him back the way he came. "Don't worry," Alex calls to Erik. "We'll help you out. I'll get a focus group together."
--
Raven arrives at Erik's room two hours before he and Charles are due to go to dinner.
"You have reservations at Arrosto and I'm helping you pick out something to wear," she informs him, pushing her way through the door and throwing open Erik's closet. "Wow," she says, "Do you have something against color?"
"I didn't ask for your opinion," Erik says, annoyed.
Raven whirls on him. "No," she says, "No, you didn't ask my for my opinion. You also did not ask my opinion on your dating my brother, who, by the way, is my only family and if you hurt him in any way, I will end you."
Erik stares. "I..."
"Lucky for you, I do reluctantly approve of you for the time being because Charles clearly thinks the sun shines out your ass," Raven steamrollers on. "That, however, does not mean that you will not make every effort to be the epitome of a gentleman. You will be kind. You will be courteous. And you will be well-dressed. Now change into these," Raven commands, throwing a pair of slacks, a sports jacket and a button-up--all black--at him.
Erik does as he's told.
--
Erik is headed to meet Charles in the foyer when a hand reaches out and drags him into one of the mansion's billion guestrooms.
Hank, Raven and Sean are perched on the bed and Alex closes the door. "Good work," Alex says to Raven, surveying Erik's attire and brushing out the wrinkles he created in Erik's left sleeve by unceremoniously kidnapping him from the fucking hallway.
"I have somewhere to be," Erik says impatiently.
"Hey," Alex says, "You're not the only one who stands to lose from this endeavor. If shit goes sideways, we'll have to put up with you brooding around the mansion and throwing Sean off the satellite dish some more and the Professor will probably mope around like a sad, downtrodden puppy before focusing his attention on new, excruciating training drills for us."
Erik knows that most of this prophecy will probably come true regardless of tonight's success, but the you might make Charles sad bit grips him inescapably. "Fine," he allows, "But present the results of your 'focus group' quickly. I will not keep Charles waiting."
"Awesome," Alex says. "Okay, so I see Raven already made sure you took my advice about the tight pants. Good call. Other things: open doors for him and pull out his chair at the table once you get to the restaurant. And don't cheat by using your powers," Alex adds, making twitching movements with his hands. "Put in some actual fucking effort."
"I agree to those terms," Erik says, turning to leave.
"Hey, we're not finished!" Sean says.
Erik turns back. "Do not even think of giving me advice," he tells Sean. "I witnessed firsthand your appalling failure at getting even as far as I have."
Sean holds up his palms like surrender and mimes closing a zipper across his lips. Erik smiles. The boy has been pleasingly obedient since Erik pushed him off the satellite dish.
"Fine, moving on," Alex says, conciliatory. "Hank?"
Erik can't imagine Hank has ever been on a date before, but Erik is willing to acknowledge that the boy shares a certain nerdy, scientific kinship with Charles. He tips his head and nods to show his attention. "Um, try not to blank out when he talks about science?" Hank offers.
"And give him these," Raven intervenes, shoving a bouquet of flowers at Erik before he can roll his eyes at Hank and decimate the kid's fragile self-esteem.
"This has been immeasurably beneficial," Erik says, deadpan.
--
Still, Erik has to admit, when he offers Charles the bunch of sunflowers and iris, Charles' smile is radiant. "Thank you, Erik. I'll just put them in water" Charles says, eyes soft, as he slips off to the kitchen for a vase.
"Told you," Raven says, appearing at Erik's elbow like an apparition.
Erik jolts. "Yes, thank you," he says. A horrific thought occurs to him. "Please tell me you don't intend to chaperone this date."
"Oh, no," Raven laughs, moderately convincing. "I will be going to the restaurant for a minute to help you with one last thing though."
"What?" Erik says, unsure whether he wants to hear the answer.
"Okay," Raven says, "It'll go down like this. Charles will give his stupid tweed coat to the maitre d' to put in the cloak room. I'll make sure it gets permanently lost."
"What on earth is that supposed to accomplish?" Erik asks.
Raven gives him a look that implies he is both incredibly slow and she may rescind her approval of him courting her brother. "I, of course, defer to your expertise with Charles," he backtracks quickly. "I simply don't understand your purpose."
Raven looks mollified. "It's cold outside and Charles will be without a jacket. It's the prefect opportunity to offer him yours."
Erik considers how Charles will look wrapped in his dark jacket, at least two sizes too large, the sleeves slipping over Charles' slim, pale wrists. It's fascinating. Erik clears his throat. Raven smirks at him and slips away as Charles returns sans flowers.
--
The restaurant is exceedingly posh and Erik can only hope that his credit card won't be declined. He knows that Charles would never think less of him, that the man will certainly try to insist upon paying the bill himself, but it's a matter of principle.
Erik watches Charles hand away his tweed coat, knowing that he'll never see it again.
The hostess leads them to a table in the corner and Erik pulls out Charles' chair, manually, even though the metal screws and hinges holding it together are singing to him. Charles thanks him, his eyes twinkling, like he understands the joke.
Over drinks, Charles tells him about meeting Raven, about how they grew up together in the huge, half-empty house, playing tricks on Charles' unkind step-father who only ever thought about money when he thought of Charles' mother.
Erik finds himself talking about his own mother, about the bright new-old memories Charles has helped him recover by teaching him the balance between serenity and anger. Charles reaches across the table to hold his hand for a brief moment before the waitress sets down their entrees.
And, of course, Charles talks about science. Erik doesn't quite understand most of what Charles says about gametes and chromosomes, but he does follow the bit where Charles says, with endearing enthusiasm, "Mutation took us from single cells organisms to being the dominant form of reproductive life on this planet. Infinite forms of variation with each generation, all through mutation." Charles runs a hand through the waves of his hair and smiles at Erik. "And you, my friend, have a very groovy mutation," he says. Their waitress, who is refilling the wine glasses, snorts loudly and spills a bit on Erik's shirt.
"Oh, shit," she says. "I'm so sorry."
"It's fine," Erik says, as she tries to dab at him with a napkin, "Can you point me toward the restrooms?"
Erik almost has a heart attack when he turns the corner that apparently leads to the restrooms and half trips over Hank, Sean and Alex, who have somehow acquired busboy aprons and are busily sorting silverware.
"Look," Alex says, trying to stop a fork from stabbing him in the jugular, "We were worried, okay?"
"I assume Raven is still here somewhere?" Erik says, rubbing his temples to stave off a migraine.
"She knocked out your waitress and took her place so she could make sure you were taking Hank's advice about not blanking out while the Professor told you about his thesis," Alex says.
Erik thinks he would be more touched at the children's obvious investment in his and Charles' relationship if it didn't imply such a lack of confidence in his abilities.
Erik sighs and decides to make the best of things. He looks at Hank who pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose nervously, the way he usually does when Erik focuses attention on him. "At times I have very little idea what Charles is talking about," Erik admits. He doesn't admit to being distracted by the shape of Charles' lips or the brightness of his eyes as he expounds on what he clearly considers a particularly fine point. "What would be an appropriate response to 'according to the law of independent assortment, the chromosomes that end up in the newly created gamete are arranged at random from all potential combinations of maternal and paternal chromosomes.'"
Hank immediately lights up. "He's talking to you about Mendelism and inheritance? I wanted to speak with him about just that subject. I'm doing an experiment on..." he trails off, making an abortive movement toward where Charles is waiting at the table, as if Charles wouldn't notice him taking Erik's place and continuing the conversation in his stead.
Erik puts a subduing hand on his chest. "Just give me an intelligent sentence I can reasonably interject when he finally pauses for a breath."
Hank considers. "Ask him what the chances are that the child of a mutant will inherit the allele which resulted in the parent's mutation."
"Forgive me, Charles," Erik says, sitting back down at their table. "We were discussing Mendel's theory of inheritance. What do you suppose are the chances that the child of a mutant will inherit the allele which resulted in the parent's mutation?"
Charles smiles, quick and brilliant, and says, "That's exactly what I want to discover! I wonder if Hank would have time to help me conduct an experiment."
--
Charles takes the loss of his tweed coat in stride. In Erik's borrowed jacket, the cuffs slipping over his hands entirely in a way Erik had not anticipated, Charles looks warm and delicate, like something Erik could protect, could keep. Erik has the sudden urge to get him home as quickly as possible.
This is, of course, when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Raven and Alex motioning furiously and mouthing over here!
"I've forgotten my...cigarette lighter," Erik improvises before the frenetic waving of the children can attract Charles' attention. He veers back into the restaurant entrance quickly, hissing, "What could you possibly have to say to me right at this exact moment?"
"You're on your own from here on, so we need to cover the final agenda," Alex says.
"Goodnight kiss, stay the night, make him breakfast," Raven lists, ticking the points off on her fingers and placing hard emphasis on stay the night as if Erik would ever leave Charles' bed by choice.
"What makes you think it won't go goodnight kiss and then beg for a second date?" Erik asks.
"Please," Raven scoffs, "Charles reaction to the slightest bit of attention from you has always been completely disproportionate. If you kiss him, you're going to end up in his bed."
Hank flushes and Sean groans, flinging a hand up over his eyes like he's been blinded by the mental images, but Alex nods. "Even you could not screw this up at this point of the evening," he says, encouragingly.
--
Erik does not screw up. He walks Charles to his room, their hands connected and swinging between them, all easy affection. At his door, Charles lets out a sudden laugh, like he can't hold it in anymore. "I'm sorry if the children made tonight difficult for you," he says, grinning.
"You knew?" Erik says, resting his forehead against the doorjamb in despair.
"Our waitress had a distinct hint of Raven. And the boys were thinking very loudly about how they didn't want you to kill them with cutlery when you got up to the restroom," Charles says, apologetically. He presses a kiss to Erik's cheek to soothe the sting of mortification. "I think it was incredibly sweet how hard our children tried to make sure everything was right, how hard you all tried. I think it was a great success, if you care to know," Charles adds, his voice gone low, eyes half-lidded.
"Do you?" Erik asks.
"I do," Charles says and grabs a double fistful of Erik's shirt to drag him over the threshold and into a kiss. He kicks the door closed behind them. "I hope the children weren't planning to monitor this portion of the evening," Charles says, breathless.
Erik mentally locks every door in the mansion, just in case.
--
Erik is cooking omelets and thinking fondly of the way Charles looked in the pre-dawn light, eyelashes fluttering, body curled toward Erik like a flower toward the sun, when his reverie is rudely interrupted.
"What the hell are you doing down here?" Raven yells, grabbing the whisk from him and shaking it in his face. Drops of egg fly wildly. "When I said 'stay the night' I meant until Charles woke up, not just until dawn! Making breakfast does not supersede being there when Charles wakes up!"
She looks ready to start beating him with the whisk, so Erik quickly removes it from her grasp, replacing it with a cup of coffee.
If last night had shown him anything--besides the fact that he loves Charles enough not to murder the miscreants that Charles had sentimentally referred to as "our children"--it was that, where Charles' heart is concerned, Raven could be either a terrific ally or a horrifying enemy.
"I did not leave Charles without so much as a kiss good morning," Erik says, mildly offended. "He was at least half-conscious when I told him I was going to make breakfast. He said he would be down in five minutes," Erik says, neglecting to mention that Charles said this over twenty minutes ago. Erik is eminently willing to grant him leeway. Charles is sore and worn-out from last night's activities and it's not unreasonable that he is slow at getting ready or has fallen back to sleep altogether, in which case Erik will bring breakfast to him.
"Oh," Raven says, sipping at her coffee for a long moment. "I just...I just want him to be happy," she says awkwardly. "I know he can seem so naive, so optimistic that it seems impossible he's ever been hurt by anyone, but," Raven falters, "Charles hasn't always been happy, Erik."
"I will endeavor to make sure that he is from this point forward," Erik promises.
Charles staggers into the kitchen a moment later in his pin-stripe pajamas, hair disheveled, a telling red mark just visible at the join of his neck and shoulder.
"Good morning, brother," Raven says.
"Good morning, sister," Charles replies. He wanders over to Erik, smiling, a pillow crease imprinted on his cheek. Erik can't not kiss him. Charles turns off the stove and walks them backward toward the kitchen island.
Erik hefts Charles up onto the counter to better match their heights.
"Oh, God, what have we done?" Sean laments from the doorway. When Erik turns to glare, the entire pack of them are grinning hugely, though Hank's face is blushing fire-engine red.
Alex whistles. "Go, Mr. Lehnsherr!"
"Seriously," Erik says, "Get out."
Comments are loved.