Fill: Erik/Charles, Wesley 2/4
anonymous
September 23 2012, 06:10:44 UTC
Making a point not to look at Charles, because his mind would certainly be swayed if he did, Erik stood. He pulled his pants back up, but didn’t bother with the fastenings. Whoever was at the door could make whatever assumptions they pleased based on his appearance-his lack of clothes, the red marks on his neck and chest, his tousled hair.
“Don’t move,” Erik muttered against Charles’ lips as he leaned down for one final kiss. Charles passed his amused consent on mutely, but made an attempt to extend their kiss anyway. Fuck.
Composing his face into his best threatening scowl, Erik pulled the door open and said, “What do you want?” Except he mostly just stared at the man on the other side because he looked just like Charles. Okay, maybe not just like him, his hair was styled differently and he had a few more scars, but mostly he was Charles.
“What the hell, Charles?” Erik asked, glaring back at Charles on the bed. This was an interesting (and kinky) trick, but Charles could’ve at least mentioned it beforehand.
Charles merely raised an eyebrow, as if he had no idea what was going on or who was at the door.
“Oh,” the second Charles said, his accent harsh and American, a stark contrast to Charles’ cultured voice. “So Charles did come back with you. How interesting. Do you mind if I come in?”
Erik was tempted to slam the door and demand some answers from Charles, but Charles was at his side in an instant, pulling the door open farther.
“Wes?” Charles asked softly. His clone just grinned and Erik could tell the signs of the mental dialogue between them. Seriously, what the hell?
“Oh, Erik, I’m sorry,” Charles said, glancing at Erik only briefly as he pulled the newcomer into the room and closed the door. “This is my brother, Wesley. We’re twins, actually.”
That certainly explained… well it at least explained their looks. “How the hell did he find us?” Erik asked, directing himself at Charles.
“You didn’t make it very difficult,” Wesley said, glaring at Erik and leaning into the embrace Charles was offering. Erik felt the sudden need to do up his pants and find his shirt and pretend he’d never touched Charles Xavier. They hadn’t been that obvious on the street, had they?
Charles waved a dismissive hand in Erik’s direction, apparently unconcerned with his own state of disheveled undress. “Don’t worry, Erik. It’s a twin thing. My god, Wes, you look so different! What happened?”
Wesley was smiling at Charles in a way that Erik could tell meant he was still keeping track of everything else around them, namely Erik. It was the attitude of a trained soldier and Erik didn’t know whether to be impressed or threatened. He supposed he was meant to feel both.
“A whole lot of shit’s happened,” Wesley said, and then waved his fingers near his head. “You can take a look at some of it if you want.”
Charles was grinning wider than Erik had ever seen and he felt a sudden spike of jealousy in his stomach, one that twisted sharper when it wasn’t immediately soothed by Charles’ mind like it usually was. With only a slight glance at Erik, Charles said, “No, I’d like you to tell me everything. Erik and I wouldn’t mind going out for one more drink.”
There was a matching smile on Wesley’s face now, a real match, except on Wesley it looked somewhat more sinister. “Only if you promise to put on some fucking clothes,” he said. Charles’ delighted laugh was lovely and Erik tried not to mind the imposition.
Family should always be first, or so Erik tried to convince himself.
“Don’t move,” Erik muttered against Charles’ lips as he leaned down for one final kiss. Charles passed his amused consent on mutely, but made an attempt to extend their kiss anyway. Fuck.
Composing his face into his best threatening scowl, Erik pulled the door open and said, “What do you want?” Except he mostly just stared at the man on the other side because he looked just like Charles. Okay, maybe not just like him, his hair was styled differently and he had a few more scars, but mostly he was Charles.
“What the hell, Charles?” Erik asked, glaring back at Charles on the bed. This was an interesting (and kinky) trick, but Charles could’ve at least mentioned it beforehand.
Charles merely raised an eyebrow, as if he had no idea what was going on or who was at the door.
“Oh,” the second Charles said, his accent harsh and American, a stark contrast to Charles’ cultured voice. “So Charles did come back with you. How interesting. Do you mind if I come in?”
Erik was tempted to slam the door and demand some answers from Charles, but Charles was at his side in an instant, pulling the door open farther.
“Wes?” Charles asked softly. His clone just grinned and Erik could tell the signs of the mental dialogue between them. Seriously, what the hell?
“Oh, Erik, I’m sorry,” Charles said, glancing at Erik only briefly as he pulled the newcomer into the room and closed the door. “This is my brother, Wesley. We’re twins, actually.”
That certainly explained… well it at least explained their looks. “How the hell did he find us?” Erik asked, directing himself at Charles.
“You didn’t make it very difficult,” Wesley said, glaring at Erik and leaning into the embrace Charles was offering. Erik felt the sudden need to do up his pants and find his shirt and pretend he’d never touched Charles Xavier. They hadn’t been that obvious on the street, had they?
Charles waved a dismissive hand in Erik’s direction, apparently unconcerned with his own state of disheveled undress. “Don’t worry, Erik. It’s a twin thing. My god, Wes, you look so different! What happened?”
Wesley was smiling at Charles in a way that Erik could tell meant he was still keeping track of everything else around them, namely Erik. It was the attitude of a trained soldier and Erik didn’t know whether to be impressed or threatened. He supposed he was meant to feel both.
“A whole lot of shit’s happened,” Wesley said, and then waved his fingers near his head. “You can take a look at some of it if you want.”
Charles was grinning wider than Erik had ever seen and he felt a sudden spike of jealousy in his stomach, one that twisted sharper when it wasn’t immediately soothed by Charles’ mind like it usually was. With only a slight glance at Erik, Charles said, “No, I’d like you to tell me everything. Erik and I wouldn’t mind going out for one more drink.”
There was a matching smile on Wesley’s face now, a real match, except on Wesley it looked somewhat more sinister. “Only if you promise to put on some fucking clothes,” he said. Charles’ delighted laugh was lovely and Erik tried not to mind the imposition.
Family should always be first, or so Erik tried to convince himself.
Reply
Leave a comment