Fill: Snap, Crackle 1 (Charles/Erik, morning) (warning: brief mentions of homophobia, mutantphobia)almostneverFebruary 22 2012, 12:18:38 UTC
(Almost certainly not what you wanted, but with Charles's little glances and frowns, this is what it inspired. A grad students AU with powers.)
-
Charles looks peeved when Erik strolls into the kitchen. It's probably fucked up, but that alone puts Erik in a good mood.
Annoyance looks pretty good on Charles, is the thing. Even better than his reading glasses, cute as they are. Definitely better than the dowdy oversized sweater hanging off him, pulling his shirt collar crooked. Though even that's sort of hot. Erik could slide his hand right down the gap at the back of the shirt collar. He could probably get the sweater off Charles without even half trying.
Maybe later.
"Morning," he says, reaching into the cupboard and enjoying the way Charles watches him stretch up and almost entirely out of his low-slung jeans.
It's enough to distract Charles a few moments, but too soon, he's shoving his reading glasses up his nose and frowning into his New Scientist with rapt concentration. Maybe it's the swimsuit issue. "Morning."
"How are the New Scientists doing?" Erik leans back against the counter. Charles scrapes him with another look, mentally radiating reluctant appreciation for Erik's shirtlessness along with his irritation.
"You passed up another Heroes 4 Hire job last night," Charles says. "You didn't ask me. You didn't even tell me that we had an offer."
Erik smiles down at his mug. Sometimes, their agreement that Charles can read his mind until Erik's done with breakfast feels like a deal with the devil. And sometimes, like this morning? It's perfect. Erik's been spoiling for this fight for a while. "I didn't think you cared."
"You know I do."
"Is that why I'm the only one signed up for text alerts? Because it's so important to you?" Erik pulls the milk out of the fridge. "And did you drink straight out of this?"
"What difference does it make? What sort of germs do you imagine you can get from the milk that you don't get from sticking your tongue in my mouth?"
"When I kiss you, I know what I'm getting myself into."
"Those jobs are important to me," says Charles. "I get those messages from Heroes 4 Hire as well. My mobile's always set on vibrate, that's all."
"Kinky."
"No, kinky would be if I stuck my mobile up your arse and phoned it, and don't think I'm not considering it," says Charles. "Anyone would think you were deliberately trying to impoverish us. --Erik!"
"Don't just steal it out of my head," Erik scowls at him. "Ask me."
"Fine," Charles rolls his eyes. "Are you passing up assignments for our part-time jobs because you're deliberately trying to impoverish us?"
"Yes."
"In order to force me to check my bank account and find out whether I've been disowned."
"Which you haven't." Erik fishes a Pop Tart out of the box on the counter and takes a bite.
"I don't know that."
Right, because his mom and stepdad have really disinherited him for being a gay mutant-- they'd have to admit to it, first. Besides, Charles's dad left him a big chunk of the estate, Sharon and Kurt can't touch that, so Charles worrying about any of it is ridiculous.
"It would take less than five minutes to find out," Erik says.
"You thought I ought to make an effort not to rely on my family's money," says Charles.
"Right, now you care what I think. This is just a game to you, trying to get by on what we can scrape together from our stipends and freelance gigs. You could use your telepathy to make a thousand bucks an hour--"
"So could you use your magnetism," Charles says.
"I use mine all the time in my lab! Maybe by the end of the day, I'm tapped," Erik says, though they both know he isn't. "You're just wasting yours. Because this is your idea of fun, trying to cover rent and utilities on chump change-- it's new and exotic, and it's not real to you. You've always got a cushion stuffed full of hundred-dollar bills to fall back on. I've actually been broke. This shit isn't fun to me. Man up and check your fucking trust fund."
Fill: Snap, Crackle 2/2 (Charles/Erik) (warning: brief mentions of homophobia, mutantphobia)almostneverFebruary 22 2012, 12:19:53 UTC
"If I do, can we start taking jobs again, please?"
"You're getting the alerts, you can take whatever bounty-hunting dregs they're offering. Nobody's stopping you. Knock yourself out."
"I want to work with you."
"Is it possible that just this once, you might not get absolutely everything you want?"
Charles slams the magazine down on the table. "Fine. I'll take the next job they offer on my own."
He won't, though, Erik's sure of that. It's only been once that Heroes 4 Hire sent them after a supervillain who turned out to be immune to telepathy, but Erik's never seen Charles go so white so fast. (For that matter, until that day he wouldn't have dreamed Charles could possibly get any whiter.) Charles won't risk it.
"If you get the text alerts too, why do you keep having me read them to you?" Erik asks.
"So we'll have something to talk about besides how we're going to fuck tonight."
Maybe that was supposed to sting, but Erik just comes over and succumbs to the temptation to finally stick his hand down the back of Charles's collar, rubbing down the center of his back, resting his palm between Charles's shoulderblades. "Speaking of..."
"I'm doing you across the kitchen table. Seeing as how you've been thinking of it since you walked in," Charles says, looking at his watch. He twists, dislodging Erik's hand, and stands, staring up at him over his glasses. "And yes, don't worry, I'll definitely still be angry enough for you to get the grudgefuck you're fantasizing about."
He grabs Erik's hair when he pulls him down for a kiss, and the fingers of his other hand hook into the waistband of Erik's jeans, tugging him close; he lets Erik bite his mouth before he eases away with, "Meet me back here at six," and he slams the door a little-- he shuts it overly firmly, anyway, and by Charles standards, that's a slam-- when he stomps off.
HEEEEEEE LOVELY, JUST LOVELY <3 And it had bottom!Erik, too! GUYS, IT'S NOT EVEN MY BIRTHDAY XDXD Thank you for filling my prompt so quickly!! (though, I know, what with the ass cleavage and the grandpa outfit that was somehow still sexy... IT WAS HARD TO RESIST, RIGHT? ;D)
Re: Fill: Snap, Crackle 2/2 (Charles/Erik) (warning: brief mentions of homophobia, mutantphobia)mrkinchFebruary 22 2012, 17:04:22 UTC
Oh, you really do have your own brand of fluff, don't you? So perfectly fucked up.
"Meet me back here at six," and he slams the door a little-- he shuts it overly firmly, anyway, and by Charles standards, that's a slam-- when he stomps off.
Re: Fill: Snap, Crackle 2/2 (Charles/Erik) (warning: brief mentions of homophobia, mutantphobia)apey1013February 22 2012, 23:38:29 UTC
OMG, I love how cranky Charles is and how Erik's just rolling with it, I love the "Charles can read Erik's mind in the morning" rule, I love Charles clocking every dirty thought Erik is having and not letting it derail the conversation. It's all so lovely and sexy and domestic.
(I have to say, though, I have BEEN THERE with the whole "you've never been broke so you're playing at it, I'VE actually been broke so knock it off" conversation.)
-
Charles looks peeved when Erik strolls into the kitchen. It's probably fucked up, but that alone puts Erik in a good mood.
Annoyance looks pretty good on Charles, is the thing. Even better than his reading glasses, cute as they are. Definitely better than the dowdy oversized sweater hanging off him, pulling his shirt collar crooked. Though even that's sort of hot. Erik could slide his hand right down the gap at the back of the shirt collar. He could probably get the sweater off Charles without even half trying.
Maybe later.
"Morning," he says, reaching into the cupboard and enjoying the way Charles watches him stretch up and almost entirely out of his low-slung jeans.
It's enough to distract Charles a few moments, but too soon, he's shoving his reading glasses up his nose and frowning into his New Scientist with rapt concentration. Maybe it's the swimsuit issue. "Morning."
"How are the New Scientists doing?" Erik leans back against the counter. Charles scrapes him with another look, mentally radiating reluctant appreciation for Erik's shirtlessness along with his irritation.
"You passed up another Heroes 4 Hire job last night," Charles says. "You didn't ask me. You didn't even tell me that we had an offer."
Erik smiles down at his mug. Sometimes, their agreement that Charles can read his mind until Erik's done with breakfast feels like a deal with the devil. And sometimes, like this morning? It's perfect. Erik's been spoiling for this fight for a while. "I didn't think you cared."
"You know I do."
"Is that why I'm the only one signed up for text alerts? Because it's so important to you?" Erik pulls the milk out of the fridge. "And did you drink straight out of this?"
"What difference does it make? What sort of germs do you imagine you can get from the milk that you don't get from sticking your tongue in my mouth?"
"When I kiss you, I know what I'm getting myself into."
"Those jobs are important to me," says Charles. "I get those messages from Heroes 4 Hire as well. My mobile's always set on vibrate, that's all."
"Kinky."
"No, kinky would be if I stuck my mobile up your arse and phoned it, and don't think I'm not considering it," says Charles. "Anyone would think you were deliberately trying to impoverish us. --Erik!"
"Don't just steal it out of my head," Erik scowls at him. "Ask me."
"Fine," Charles rolls his eyes. "Are you passing up assignments for our part-time jobs because you're deliberately trying to impoverish us?"
"Yes."
"In order to force me to check my bank account and find out whether I've been disowned."
"Which you haven't." Erik fishes a Pop Tart out of the box on the counter and takes a bite.
"I don't know that."
Right, because his mom and stepdad have really disinherited him for being a gay mutant-- they'd have to admit to it, first. Besides, Charles's dad left him a big chunk of the estate, Sharon and Kurt can't touch that, so Charles worrying about any of it is ridiculous.
"It would take less than five minutes to find out," Erik says.
"You thought I ought to make an effort not to rely on my family's money," says Charles.
"Right, now you care what I think. This is just a game to you, trying to get by on what we can scrape together from our stipends and freelance gigs. You could use your telepathy to make a thousand bucks an hour--"
"So could you use your magnetism," Charles says.
"I use mine all the time in my lab! Maybe by the end of the day, I'm tapped," Erik says, though they both know he isn't. "You're just wasting yours. Because this is your idea of fun, trying to cover rent and utilities on chump change-- it's new and exotic, and it's not real to you. You've always got a cushion stuffed full of hundred-dollar bills to fall back on. I've actually been broke. This shit isn't fun to me. Man up and check your fucking trust fund."
Reply
"You're getting the alerts, you can take whatever bounty-hunting dregs they're offering. Nobody's stopping you. Knock yourself out."
"I want to work with you."
"Is it possible that just this once, you might not get absolutely everything you want?"
Charles slams the magazine down on the table. "Fine. I'll take the next job they offer on my own."
He won't, though, Erik's sure of that. It's only been once that Heroes 4 Hire sent them after a supervillain who turned out to be immune to telepathy, but Erik's never seen Charles go so white so fast. (For that matter, until that day he wouldn't have dreamed Charles could possibly get any whiter.) Charles won't risk it.
"If you get the text alerts too, why do you keep having me read them to you?" Erik asks.
"So we'll have something to talk about besides how we're going to fuck tonight."
Maybe that was supposed to sting, but Erik just comes over and succumbs to the temptation to finally stick his hand down the back of Charles's collar, rubbing down the center of his back, resting his palm between Charles's shoulderblades. "Speaking of..."
"I'm doing you across the kitchen table. Seeing as how you've been thinking of it since you walked in," Charles says, looking at his watch. He twists, dislodging Erik's hand, and stands, staring up at him over his glasses. "And yes, don't worry, I'll definitely still be angry enough for you to get the grudgefuck you're fantasizing about."
He grabs Erik's hair when he pulls him down for a kiss, and the fingers of his other hand hook into the waistband of Erik's jeans, tugging him close; he lets Erik bite his mouth before he eases away with, "Meet me back here at six," and he slams the door a little-- he shuts it overly firmly, anyway, and by Charles standards, that's a slam-- when he stomps off.
Six. Erik can't wait.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
"Meet me back here at six," and he slams the door a little-- he shuts it overly firmly, anyway, and by Charles standards, that's a slam-- when he stomps off.
Dying.
Reply
(I have to say, though, I have BEEN THERE with the whole "you've never been broke so you're playing at it, I'VE actually been broke so knock it off" conversation.)
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment