THE X-MEN FIRST CLASS KINK MEME: PROMPT POST
You know why you're here. You've seen the movie. You're asking yourself, "So where was the gratuitous Emma Frost as White Queen in a corset? When did Mystique totally make it with Beast? WHY IN HEAVENS DID XAVIER AND MAGNETO NEVER MAKE OUT
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“They wouldn’t let me in without it,” Erik feels compelled to explain.
Charles nods. “My telepathy can’t get out of this room,” he says quietly, and his eyes go hard as the door swishes shut. “But once someone’s in here, they’re mine.”
Erik looks at him and he’s sad for a moment, overwhelmingly sad, and Charles must pick up on it because he smiles and waves a dismissive hand.
“I wouldn’t hurt you like that,” Charles says. “Never, do you understand?”
Erik smiles sadly because he does, he really fucking does. “Come back with me,” he says, instead of oh but you are, you’re hurting me, the kids, all of us with this useless vendetta, with this war you cannot win. “Please. Xavier’s Academy sounds so much better than Lehnsherr’s.”
Charles laughs a little. “How is the school going?” He doesn’t answer the question, Erik notices, and he hides the way his heart dies, just a little.
“Good,” he says instead, thinking of the little ones and the kids who have somehow grown, these last few months, and aren't really kids anymore. “We’ve found some new mutants. It’s starting to look like a proper school.”
“That’s good,” Charles says, almost wistfully, and Erik remembers long nights of chess and scotch and dream of the future, their future, and he hates how it all went away.
They miss you, Erik doesn’t say. They call me Professor Mags now because little Ororo doesn’t want to say Magneto. Sean stopped asking about you two months ago and Raven still sleeps in your room. Hank is thinking about leaving us and Alex makes sure I eat at least twice a day. Moira’s been missing for a year now; the kids think she’s been killed. They’re scared. I need you. I don’t know if I can do this on my own.
“They think you’ll take over me,” he says suddenly instead of all these little things. “Force me to use my power to break you out. That’s why they’re making me wear the helmet.”
Charles looks away and Cuba swells between them.
“Would you?” Erik asks softly.
Charles doesn’t answer.
“Would you, Charles?”
Charles looks him in the eye and his eyes are the color of the Cuban skies. “I did it once,” he says bitterly. “Who’s to say I won’t again?”
Erik bows his head. “My friend,” he says heavily.
“Stay,” says Charles, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “Please. Stay with me. Think of what we could do, together. We could make the world safe for our people. Please, Erik. We want the same thing.”
Erik is, for the first and final time, grateful for Shaw’s helmet because Charles will never hear his heart crack in two.
“Oh my dear friend,” Erik says, as he turns to go. “No we do not.”
“Erik!” Charles stands, sharp and sudden and there’s fire in his eyes. “Wait.”
Erik stops by the door and his eyes are closed.
“I’m sorry,” Charles says, barely louder than a whisper. “I never meant to-meant to hurt you, that day.”
Erik smiles but Charles doesn’t see it, and he remembers Cuba and Charles and painpainpain in his back, in his mind, his hands stretching out against his will and his legs shuddering and the crack of Moira’s gun and finally nothing as he lay in the sand and couldn’t feel his legs.
“It was an accident,” Charles says quietly, pleadingly.
Erik nods once. “I know, my friend,” he says, and then he flicks a finger and wheels himself out the door.
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In short, here, have my internet babies/muffins/whatever. Please please please keep writing!
(ps captcha says ffersu preface. I think this means better is yet to come.)
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LOVE IT. LOVE YOU!!!
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Oh Charles. Oh Erik.
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(I'm going to have to skip the next part, as 9/11 imagery is the one thing that legit triggers me, but I do so appreciate you warning for it, and I look forward to the next parts!)
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