Teenage Dream (6a/?)
anonymous
May 23 2013, 19:11:13 UTC
mhahaha, finally naming it. Sorry for the cheesiness in the title. Also, I started posting it on ao3 here...I hope that's okay? Also, introducing jealous!Erik, because why not. Also, I'm going to shut up and post the chapter. Apologies for the delay! ______________________________________________________________________ Erik sighed, looking out of the window. He didn’t feel like concentrating on another stupid lecture. Well, his mind was diverted anyways. Almost as if Charles was a telepath, just, always present in his mind. It was hard to believe that this was the same old Charles. What the fuck happened to him? Not that Erik wouldn’t agree that this Charles was totally begging him to take him against the lockers, but Erik liked the old Charles nonetheless. Maybe he just liked shorter, adorable people with stupid, floppy brown hair and electric blue eyes and British accents. (Or maybe that was just Charles?) Also, maybe he was a bit, just a teeny, tiny bit sapiosexual. And it was already hard to endure when Charles looked like a dork, with big sweaters, and even bigger glasses. But now here was Charles, somewhy, dressed to kill, and chatting with girls, and calling Erik darling of all things, and Erik wasn’t sure how to react. He snapped back to reality when he saw said subject of torture on the field below. He must be having a free period. Even with the open window, Erik couldn’t listen to what Charles and the ugh, group of girls were talking about, because he was on the third floor. Whatever. The group stopped, and Charles had his back towards Erik. The girls were staring at him, surprised by something he’d said, Erik guessed. Charles shoved his hands in his pockets, rolling on his heels and shrugging his shoulders. Erik could almost see his sheepish grin in his mind. And then, he could almost hear the girls screaming, what sounded like Charles!? And while Charles nervously (Erik knew he did that when he was nervous) scratched his head, one of the blondes fainted, and fell down on top of Charles. Erik clenched his fists, watching helplessly as Charles stumbled for his balance, and then helped the chick, dragging her to the nurse, probably. Erik sighed. Great! Charles probably had time for the whole school, but him. He had been trying to talk to Charles for the two whole days, but in vain. Ever since Charles had this “makeover” of his, he somehow turned into an overnight celebrity. He was almost successful once yesterday, when he found Charles in front of him while he was drifting half-asleep from one damned classroom to another. ______________________________________________ “Oh, hello, Erik,” Charles happily greeted him, with wide eyes, and a wide smile. “Charles,” was all Erik managed to get out, before a group of girls came, all Ooh Charles! Ohh Charles! grabbed him by each of his arms, and dragged him away, laughing and giggling, and Charles was blushing and he shot an apologetic look towards Erik, and all Erik did was stare and frown. And then frown some more. There was something Erik had really wanted to say.
______________________________________________________________________
Erik sighed, looking out of the window. He didn’t feel like concentrating on another stupid lecture. Well, his mind was diverted anyways. Almost as if Charles was a telepath, just, always present in his mind.
It was hard to believe that this was the same old Charles. What the fuck happened to him? Not that Erik wouldn’t agree that this Charles was totally begging him to take him against the lockers, but Erik liked the old Charles nonetheless. Maybe he just liked shorter, adorable people with stupid, floppy brown hair and electric blue eyes and British accents. (Or maybe that was just Charles?) Also, maybe he was a bit, just a teeny, tiny bit sapiosexual. And it was already hard to endure when Charles looked like a dork, with big sweaters, and even bigger glasses.
But now here was Charles, somewhy, dressed to kill, and chatting with girls, and calling Erik darling of all things, and Erik wasn’t sure how to react.
He snapped back to reality when he saw said subject of torture on the field below. He must be having a free period. Even with the open window, Erik couldn’t listen to what Charles and the ugh, group of girls were talking about, because he was on the third floor. Whatever.
The group stopped, and Charles had his back towards Erik. The girls were staring at him, surprised by something he’d said, Erik guessed. Charles shoved his hands in his pockets, rolling on his heels and shrugging his shoulders. Erik could almost see his sheepish grin in his mind.
And then, he could almost hear the girls screaming, what sounded like Charles!? And while Charles nervously (Erik knew he did that when he was nervous) scratched his head, one of the blondes fainted, and fell down on top of Charles. Erik clenched his fists, watching helplessly as Charles stumbled for his balance, and then helped the chick, dragging her to the nurse, probably.
Erik sighed. Great! Charles probably had time for the whole school, but him. He had been trying to talk to Charles for the two whole days, but in vain. Ever since Charles had this “makeover” of his, he somehow turned into an overnight celebrity.
He was almost successful once yesterday, when he found Charles in front of him while he was drifting half-asleep from one damned classroom to another.
______________________________________________
“Oh, hello, Erik,” Charles happily greeted him, with wide eyes, and a wide smile.
“Charles,” was all Erik managed to get out, before a group of girls came, all Ooh Charles! Ohh Charles! grabbed him by each of his arms, and dragged him away, laughing and giggling, and Charles was blushing and he shot an apologetic look towards Erik, and all Erik did was stare and frown. And then frown some more.
There was something Erik had really wanted to say.
Reply
Leave a comment