Holiday Ficlet #20: "Rage and Serenity" [X-Men: First Class]
Better late than never...
Title: Rage and Serenity
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Words: ~400 words
Characters: Charles/Erik
Summary: Here is what Erik thinks of Charles.
AN: For usakeh.
Rage and Serenity
Here is what Erik thinks of Charles:
Charles is too young. Charles has always been too young and he will always be. Zu deutsch: Charles ist zu jung. Sprache, die langsam verrostet und immer noch irgendwie glänzt und sich zugleich richtiger und falscher anfühlt als Charles Xavier, der ihn an- oder auslacht, warme Morgensonne im Gesicht. It doesn't get better in German. Charles erupts into laughter sometimes, because the world is fabulous. He says, let's have a drink, my friend, let's go feel rage, serenity and all the things between. It's an attitude that Erik doesn't understand and never will, his mind just as streamlined as his gift.
Here's what Charles thinks of Erik, picking up on what he's caught of that and taking the liberty of adding one or two notions himself:
All of Erik is streamlined, all of it is so straight (and yes, that makes Charles chuckle. He may be excused. The Germans themselves say: A good pun hurts). It's all one straight line with Erik, bottom to top, beginning to end, purpose and means. Serenity and rage: They aren't exact polar opposites, and that's the point. The English language suits Erik better than the German one, Charles has decided - subject, predicate, object, one very specific position reserved for each. And a whole beautiful world of wicket puns to go along with it, too.
"Your mind is all over the place," Erik points out - in English - because Charles has been projecting, letting him see all in a way that never stops feeling a little bit obscene. "Even your thoughts aren't in any kind of order I can see."
Charles smirks at him, hair in disarray from a too long night in bed, face covered in stark morning sun. "And why should they be," he says - in German. "It's easy enough for a bright mind such as myself to keep track of all of them at once."
"You're a crazy man," Erik says, puzzled, although he does allow Charles to draw him back into bed. It's obscene, yes. But strangely sane.
There are things about Erik that Charles will never know, Erik thinks, because he'll always be too young (Schüsse in die Schläfe überlebt das Opfer dann und wann, Schüsse in den Rachen nie; Menschenrauch riecht schwer und süß, vor allem, wenn die Birkenau in Auschwitz blüht.) It's curious how it appears that you can only read a thought that you can grasp - there is more than one kind of foreign language, and a telepath apparently can't master both.
"Stop thinking," Charles mutters, and Erik does, and that's enough (im Augenblick).
Title: Rage and Serenity
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Words: ~400 words
Characters: Charles/Erik
Summary: Here is what Erik thinks of Charles.
AN: For usakeh.
Rage and Serenity
Here is what Erik thinks of Charles:
Charles is too young. Charles has always been too young and he will always be. Zu deutsch: Charles ist zu jung. Sprache, die langsam verrostet und immer noch irgendwie glänzt und sich zugleich richtiger und falscher anfühlt als Charles Xavier, der ihn an- oder auslacht, warme Morgensonne im Gesicht. It doesn't get better in German. Charles erupts into laughter sometimes, because the world is fabulous. He says, let's have a drink, my friend, let's go feel rage, serenity and all the things between. It's an attitude that Erik doesn't understand and never will, his mind just as streamlined as his gift.
Here's what Charles thinks of Erik, picking up on what he's caught of that and taking the liberty of adding one or two notions himself:
All of Erik is streamlined, all of it is so straight (and yes, that makes Charles chuckle. He may be excused. The Germans themselves say: A good pun hurts). It's all one straight line with Erik, bottom to top, beginning to end, purpose and means. Serenity and rage: They aren't exact polar opposites, and that's the point. The English language suits Erik better than the German one, Charles has decided - subject, predicate, object, one very specific position reserved for each. And a whole beautiful world of wicket puns to go along with it, too.
"Your mind is all over the place," Erik points out - in English - because Charles has been projecting, letting him see all in a way that never stops feeling a little bit obscene. "Even your thoughts aren't in any kind of order I can see."
Charles smirks at him, hair in disarray from a too long night in bed, face covered in stark morning sun. "And why should they be," he says - in German. "It's easy enough for a bright mind such as myself to keep track of all of them at once."
"You're a crazy man," Erik says, puzzled, although he does allow Charles to draw him back into bed. It's obscene, yes. But strangely sane.
There are things about Erik that Charles will never know, Erik thinks, because he'll always be too young (Schüsse in die Schläfe überlebt das Opfer dann und wann, Schüsse in den Rachen nie; Menschenrauch riecht schwer und süß, vor allem, wenn die Birkenau in Auschwitz blüht.) It's curious how it appears that you can only read a thought that you can grasp - there is more than one kind of foreign language, and a telepath apparently can't master both.
"Stop thinking," Charles mutters, and Erik does, and that's enough (im Augenblick).