Let Hope Burn In Your Eyes [2/?]
Title: Let Hope Burn in Your Eyes [2/?]
Fandom: X-Men
Words: 4,500
Summary: Erik never expected to have to take a kid for ransom, let alone the persistently
annoying Charles Xavier.
Warning(s): Character abuse, Stockholm Syndrome/Lima Syndrome, Underage Character
It was two hours before Erik heard another peep from Charles, and even then, he had a feeling that the teenager was only doing it out of sheer desperation.
It was a hum of insistence at first, which Erik happily ignored in favor of watching another episode of 'How It's Made' on aluminum bike wheels. Charles shifted from his position higher up on the bed to get closer to Erik, who sat on the edge. The teen scooted down enough to nudge Erik's hip with his toe. Erik glanced over his shoulder with an unhappy scowl.
"What." He snapped - a demand, not a question. Charles gestured to his bindings, eyes wide and saying something that was entirely incomprehensible. Erik narrowed his eyes.
"I'm not going to take the tape off every time you think you have something interesting to say." He pointed out, turning up the volume on the television to drown out Charles' mumbling. He jerked when toes pressed insistently into the side of his stomach - wiggling lightly against a ticklish pressure point Erik didn't even know he had.
Jumping up, Erik stormed over to the night stand and snatched up his dagger. Muting the TV, he tossed the remote on the bed and climbed up, grabbing Charles by the wrists and dragging him closer. Charles released an undignified whimpering noise, head flinching back.
"If you're going to do this every time you want me to take the tape off, I'm just going to leave it on and feed you intravenously." Erik growled, moving to grasp the teenager's chin tightly and tilt his head, dagger sliding under the tape and nicking the edge. He used that to rip the rest of it in half, pulling it from Charles' mouth.
Instantly, Charles was licking his lips - as if trying to quell the red and swollen skin to the best of his ability. Erik drew back, setting the dagger on the nightstand and staring at him expectantly.
"Well?" He asked impatiently. Charles cleared his throat nervously, an intense flush rising to his cheeks and ears. Erik's eyes narrowed and it seemed to spur the teen into talking.
"I'm afraid I have to use the restroom again- and there's no polite way to tell you, but it isn't to urinate." Charles squeaked, so mortified that even his neck was turning red. (Erik briefly wondered if that flush ran all the way down his chest, but dashed the image away the second it surfaced.)
Erik's lips contorted into a grimace and he sighed painfully. "Hang on, then." He headed for his duffel, opening one of the side pockets for the small tool kit he kept secured there.
"What am- I - er. okay." Charles stumbled over his words, seeming to remember Erik's extreme distaste for questions and conversation. He set his head back down on the bed to watch the man with a curious gaze.
Erik extracted a Phillip's screwdriver, standing and walking over to the bathroom door. It didn't take much longer than two or three minutes, and he had the knob off, turned, and re-secured with the lock facing out.
Standing, Erik replaced his screwdriver into the tool kit, zipping up his duffel and walking towards Charles. He paused, reaching to grab his Glock from the table and tucking it into the back of his pants.
"I'm going to untie you, and if you try to run, I'll kill you." He pointed out at the same time he reached for Charles' restraints. Charles eagerly held his hands out, nodding so vigorously that Erik was certain it would result in a slight headache. Sighing as if the entire world pained him, Erik unknotted the ties around the teenager's wrists and ankles and pointed to the bathroom.
"You have fifteen minutes to do your thing and then shower. If you want, you can wash your things in the sink, but don't go over your time limit. I have a spare shirt I can give you, but that's it." As Erik spoke, Charles was gingerly pulling the tape off from the rest of his face, wincing as it tugged his untamed hair. Erik rolled his eyes, reaching out and yanking it - resulting in a good clump of brown hair being ripped off in the process.
Charles bit down on a sound of pain, gaze averted as he slipped off the bed and scrambled for the bathroom. He paused just before going in, glancing at Erik.
"What if I go over my time?" He asked curiously. Erik leered, crossing his arms.
"I'll break the door down."
Charles' eyes went wide and he slipped in the bathroom with a mutter of, "Oh. Well. Okay then." The door clicked shut.
Erik turned the sound back on the television and resumed his episode of 'How Its Made', keeping an eye on the clock. Two minutes before Charles' time was up, he stood and rapped forcefully on the door.
"Two minutes!" He barked over the roar of the rushing shower. Charles replied with a loud 'Okay!' of acknowledgement, to which Erik went and retrieved one of his t-shirts that he rarely wore.
Much to his displeasure, Erik came to the realization that he really hadn't thought his actions through. Unless he wanted a captive that utterly reeked, he was going to have to buy a few articles of clothing for Charles - and possibly have the staff bring him a cot.
The floor wasn't a good place to let Charles sleep because Erik wouldn't be able to hear him moving around until it was too late. A cot, on the other hand, would creak and groan with every movement that Charles made. (That, or he could just continue sharing the bed with the teenager, but Erik was already trying to ignore the distracting way Charles habitually licked his lips, or how his voice sounded when he whimpered. It made Erik wonder how much more arousing it would be to make Charles whimper in a completely different manner.)
The doorknob jiggled and Erik glanced at the clock to see that Charles had less than half a minute. He stood silently, heading for the bathroom door to unlock and open it. He got a few inches before the door no longer gave way, and Charles pushed back. Erik snarled, prepared to shove painfully at the door and, most likely, force Charles against the wall with the action, but then Charles spoke.
"Ah- could I have the shirt, please? I need to wait for my underwear to dry and I'm a bit naked here." Charles babbled, one pale and thin-wristed hand shoving through the space in the doorway. Erik slapped the t-shirt into Charles' hand with more force than necessary, and grabbed that small wrist before it could withdraw. He yanked, satisfied with the startled yelp that it tore from Charles when Erik practically dragged him through the doorway. Charles managed to hold onto the doorknob enough to keep his lower half inside the bathroom - but this was enough for Erik.
He drew his face close to the teen's, having to bend forward a bit to do so, and growled. "Don't treat this like a vacation. I don't give a fuck about your modesty if it inconveniences me. Do you understand?" He hissed. Charles, eyes wide and frightened, nodded furiously and didn't even bother to try and free his wrist from Erik's painful grip.
"My apologies. I didn't- I just. s-sorry." Charles whimpered, looking unsure if he was supposed to come out from behind the bathroom door or not. Erik, pleased with Charles' cooperation, released the teen's hand and stepped back.
"Put that shirt on. You can use a towel to cover yourself, if you must." Erik said. Charles, flustered, nodded and shut the door. Erik didn't bother to lock it, instead hovering outside until it opened again a few seconds later. Catching Erik's gesture at the bed, Charles made his way over to it, sitting down gingerly and holding his wrists together for Erik to tie.
Erik was halfway to the rope when he paused. At this point it would be more of a hassle than anything, given that Charles' utter lack of mobility made for one very high-maintenance captive. Rethinking, Erik brought the rope over, but reached for the dagger first. Charles shifted, looking nervous and then relieved when Erik did nothing but sever the rope in half. Satisfied with his two pieces, Erik used them first to tie Charles' wrists together and then his ankles. It would be easier for Charles' to escape, technically, but Erik knew now that the teen wouldn't try anything when Erik was sitting in the same room with more than one weapon at his disposal, as well as a good fifty pounds of muscle more than Charles.
Once Charles' was restrained, Erik shoved his hands under the small teen's arms, startling a squeak out of Charles' as Erik bodily lifted him and set him down against the headboard. Charles, whose face was flushed brightly, watched Erik with wide eyes as the man grabbed the remote control and slapped it into Charles' tied hands.
"No news." Erik commanded, giving a painful warning squeeze to the hands clasped around the remote. Charles nodded, eyes locking for a moment longer with Erik's until he turned to fiddle with the television.
Erik sat back down at the small table as the teenager began channel flipping, reaching for the small motel phone after a second. He glanced over to see that Charles had settled on some show with pretty looking men who were apparently hunting monsters or something, and dialed the front desk.
He argued with the clerk for a minute and had to hang up before he did something particularly violent. Who the fuck charged $50 a night for the use of a cot? Was that even legal? Erik ran his hand over his face, turning to Charles (who was utterly enraptured in watching the pretty men argue with another attractive man in a creepy flasher coat) and holding back a growl of annoyance.
"Ultimatum." He started, mulling over the words in his head. Charles glanced away from the television to look at Erik in confusion. "You can sleep in the bathroom or share the bed with me."
Charles' scowled, his red lips pursing in confusion (to Erik's options, or the fact that he had options, Erik wasn't sure). "Can't I sleep on the floor next to the bed?"
"No."
Charles, only mildly taken aback, glanced at the television for a second - long enough for Erik's impatience to grow. He was ready to just lock Charles in the bathroom for the night when the teen spoke up again - flush rising all the way up from his neck to the backs of his ears.
"Uh, the bed, I suppose... You aren't going to molest me at all, are you?" Charles ventured, his voice quiet and nervous, unwilling to look at Erik. Taken aback, the man gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles started turning white.
"NO." He snapped, somewhat shocked that this kid - who Erik had hardly touched outside of the necessary actions - dared accuse Erik of doing something so immoral. He preferred consensual partners, if any.
"Excellent." Charles breathed with relief, his fluster turning into a tiny smile that had Erik narrowing his eyes before turning back to his paperwork. He grunted to Charles while pulling out his cellular, searching through his contacts to try and set up an appointment with someone who could get him the right papers and identification so that Erik could get through the airport customs without being detained.
Once he'd hung up with Jason Wyngarde (the only one willing and capable of providing Erik with the forgeries he needed), Erik tore out a piece of paper from one of his notebooks, glancing over at Charles.
"Boxers or briefs?" He asked, voice barely audible over the television. Charles instantly muted the sound of demons being slain to look at Erik in confusion.
"Uhhh..." Charles started, obviously trying to scramble for a response after having been taken off guard. Erik's right brow quirked, pen tapping impatiently on the strip of paper.
"Don't give me the 'cool' answer, either. They're going to be the only underwear you'll have for the next few days." He added. This seemed to help Charles grasp at the situation better, because the teen flushed and started fiddling with the remote control.
"Boxer-briefs?" Charles ventured timidly. Surprised, Erik couldn't help the smallest of grins from pulling at the corners of his mouth while he wrote it down.
"Touché..." He muttered, scribbling down to get Charles a pair of jeans and some cheap t-shirts as well. "You know..." Erik began, writing down things that he had to get for himself, "It's very fortunate for you that the ransom I'll be receiving for your return is going to help reimburse the expenses gone into making sure you're treated properly."
"Ransom, yes..." Charles murmured absently, fiddling with the remote in his hands. "About that..." His voice was soft, so barely audible that it took Erik a few seconds to register what the teenager was doing. He stiffened, hand tightening around his pen as Charles continued. "My step-father, Kurt Marko, isn't likely to-"
"Shut up." Erik growled. "Whatever you say isn't going to make me release you." He hissed, a sharp burn coiling in his gut. Charles worried his lower lip between his teeth.
"But I'm not trying to-"
Erik leapt up, already making it to the bed in two long strides and raising his hand. Charles flinched, arms flying up to protect his face. "Please, I'm just trying to make you understand! You won't get your money bec-"
Erik grabbed Charles' wrists in one hand, wrenching them out of the way and using the other to slap the teen - not even giving Charles a chance to react before his hand was covering Charles' mouth, fingers digging brutally into pale flesh. He leaned in close, ignoring the terrified look coming over Charles' face.
"Are you physically incapable of shutting the fuck up?" Erik snarled, "Is that what it is? Because I have a knife - I'll cut your fucking tongue out."
Charles' eyes grew wide, inhaling sharply through his nose and trying to shake his head, despite the fact that Erik had his face in a bruising grip. Erik waited another agonizingly long second before he released Charles' mouth and wrists with a low growl. He turned, glancing around for the duct tape when Charles spoke up again.
"I'm sorry! I really am! Please- don't use the tape! I won't bring it up again!" The teen pleaded. Erik turned slowly, giving him an incredulous look and holding the tape up with narrowed eyes.
"What do I benefit from not shutting you up?" He ventured, already pulling a strip off. Charles scrambled for something to say, panic in his eyes before he flailed his bound wrists up and down.
"Massage!" He blurted.
Erik paused, eyes squinting in confusion. "Excuse me?"
Charles hurried to elaborate, fingers wiggling and gesturing at Erik. "Your hands and shoulders hurt, don't they? I can tell. I'll massage them for you."
Erik's brows furrowed and his lips pursed into a thin line as he stepped closer with the tape. "Are you trying to seduce me?" He asked, "Shouldn't this be the other way around?" He almost wanted to smile at the way Charles' eyes grew huge and his face burst into a pink flush.
"What?" Charles breathed in surprise, suddenly shaking his head and gesticulating as wildly as possible - given his restraints. "Goodness, no! I was offering the only reasonable payment I have at my dispense!" The teen cried. Erik grunted, pressing the tape back into the roll and smoothing it out.
"You're that desperate, are you?" He asked. Charles shrugged helplessly, glancing away from Erik to stare at the muted television.
"My skin doesn't really appreciate the abuse." He murmured, voice bordering on petulant. Erik barked out a laugh so sudden that it startled Charles, his large hands stretching out towards his captive. Charles stared at the backs of Erik's knuckles for a moment before realizing the implications. Within an instant, he was bringing his tied hands up to wrap thin and soft fingers along Erik's right palm, tenderly pressing into the joints and rubbing.
Erik shifted, sitting on the bed besides Charles and watching the muted television. The silence stretched on for no longer than a minute before Charles was talking again.
"What's your favorite ice cream?"
Erik glanced over at the teen, his right eyebrow rising high. Charles, however, was intensely focused on smoothing away the ache in Erik's palm, and didn't look up. Erik huffed out a sound of amusement. "Plain chocolate."
Charles seemed pleased with this, if the tiny twitch at the corner of his lips was anything to go by, and reached for Erik's other hand. "Football or baseball?"
Erik leaned against the headboard, his elbow resting on his stomach so that Charles could continue massaging his hand. "Hockey."
At this, Charles' eyes shot up for a second to look at Erik, but then refocused on the older man's hand. "That was unexpected..." He murmured, kneading the base of Erik's thumb. "Favorite animal?"
Erik breathed in a half-yawn through his nose. "Shark." He pulled his hand away from Charles to turn and face his back to the teen, legs resting on the floor beside the bed. "Neck, now."
Tentative fingers gently wrapped around the base of Erik's neck, feeling out the area before thumbs dug right in and started kneading away. Erik bit back a groan, huffing and dropping his head forward.
"Energy drink or coffee?"
"Coffee." Erik mumbled, arching his back a fraction whenever Charles pressed against a particularly tender knot somewhere behind his left ear. Charles hummed thoughtfully, fingers trailing down to start rubbing Erik's shoulders.
"Favorite season?"
Erik mulled over this one for a moment, allowing Charles to soothe away the tension in his shoulders before he'd made his decision. "Winter. In Florida."
"Florida?" Charles exclaimed softly, apparently surprised.
"Sun never stops shining." Erik reasoned, squirming at the feel of a gentle thumb digging into a bundle of muscles along his shoulder blade. He couldn't bite back the groan this time, ignoring the way Charles seemed to pause before continuing.
"Would it be too much to ask for some sort of board game or book when you're out next time? Daytime dramas aren't exactly riveting..." Charles asked, not once ceasing his massage. Erik clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stand and pull away from Charles' hands. He reached for the duct tape.
"I think it's time for the tape to go back on." He said, trying not to feel guilty at the way Charles' face fell instantly. He pushed the emotion down, sticking the duct tape over Charles' mouth and patting the teen's cheek with a mocking grin. Charles' disappointed face turned into a disgruntled glare, bright blue eyes never leaving Erik as the man headed for his duffel to put away his belongings.
Once finished, Erik shucked his pants and pushed Charles across the bed to make room, gesturing for the teen to offer his wrists. Charles did so, watching Erik grab the rope and fiddle with it until he was tied to Erik as well. It wouldn't necessarily be hard for Charles to slip free, but Erik was a light enough sleeper that he'd wake up before Charles could do anything about it.
Erik used his other hand to grab the remote and shut off the television, followed by the bedside lamp. The room fell into darkness and Erik rested his head against his pillow, eyes closing. The last thing he heard was a muffled sound from Charles that could have been 'goodnight' as Erik drifted off.
At six in the morning, Erik's phone alarm started to buzz. He was awake in a heartbeat, sitting up and untying himself from Charles without a second thought. Standing, Erik flicked on the lamp to stretch and shake the sleepiness from his body before turning to Charles' still form.
"Get up." He barked. Charles made a snuffing sound, rolling over so that his back was to Erik and dragging the covers up to his shoulder, head burrowing into his pillow. Irritation spiked through Erik and he grabbed the teen's shoulder to give him a rough shake.
"Get. Up."
Charles' eyes cracked open a sliver, glazed with sleep, and fell shut again. Scowling, Erik used his open palm to slap Charles as best he could from the angle he was at. Charles jerked, waking so quickly he nearly tumbled off the edge. Frantic eyes darted around before landing on Erik.
Erik grinned with satisfaction. "Next time, do try to wake up when I tell you."
Charles made a sound in the back of his throat, nodding as his tied hands rose to hover protectively over his reddened cheek. Erik gestured to the bathroom and Charles seemed to take the hint, slipping out of the bed and using the wall for support as he hopped his way to the small door. Erik locked him in before he moved to gather the things he needed to start his day.
Once his bag was packed with the necessities, Erik rapped on the bathroom door and then opened it to see Charles sitting sleepily on the closed toilet, leaning to the side with his cheek mashed against the counter.
Erik stared and Charles pushed himself tiredly to his feet, not even protesting when Erik huffed in frustration and lifted the teen up and over his shoulder. Depositing Charles back on the bed, Erik grabbed Charles' wrists, allowing himself to be amused with how pliant Charles was with letting the man tie his arms behind his back.
"I'm going out, you can go back to sleep. Don't bother making noise, nobody cares around here." As he spoke, Erik soon realized that Charles had already drifted off with a sleepy nod. Erik's chest tightened painfully with how endearing the entire situation had become, and he straightened immediately. Scowling, Erik grabbed his keys and stomped out of the motel room with his duffel slung over a shoulder.
After opening a storage locker in the next town over, Erik headed to the small cafe that he'd set up a meeting with Jason. It took a little over an hour to go over what he needed from the man, providing him with the necessary information as well as begrudgingly allowing Jason to take his photograph. It was half past nine when they finished with a firm handshake and a wad of cash being exchanged.
Erik didn't waste any time heading to the nearest thrift store, grabbing a pair of jeans and two cheap t-shirts for Charles. At first, he thought nothing of the small wooden chess set sitting innocently on a shelf near the checkout, but it kept staying in Erik's peripheral until he reached out to grab it (as well as the bag of pieces accompanying it).
After paying for his purchases, Erik swung by a department store on his way back to the motel to grab a pack of underwear. The small cafe down the street provided Erik with a plain black coffee, as well as breakfast for himself and Charles. His duffel now heavy with his purchases, Erik took advantage of the payphone on the corner from the cafe to try dialing Westchester in hopes of getting into contact with Charles' step-father.
After three attempts that rang until the answering machine picked up, Erik slammed the receiver down and resolved to try again later in the day.
He stepped into the motel room just before noon to see Charles lounging in the bed and watching some children's show with brightly colored puppet animals that reminded Erik of the one time he'd tripped on acid in his youth. Upon seeing Erik, Charles struggled to sit up without falling over. He failed, and Erik subsequently failed to hide his amused grin.
"Breakfast." Erik said, walking towards the small table to set down the paper bag containing the food he'd gotten from the cafe. He pulled out a bagel and a packet of cream cheese with a plastic knife, as well as a bottle of water still dripping with condensation. Turning, Erik watched Charles struggle to make his way to the edge of the bed before taking pity on the teen. He lifted Charles up with a swift tug, depositing him on the chair before adjusting the restraints so that Charles' hands were tied in front of his body. With a quick wrench, the tape was gone (not without a hiss of pain from Charles, however) and Erik gestured to the food.
The cream cheese packet crinkled as Charles peeled the lid off, and Erik opened his duffel to pull out the shopping bags he'd stuffed inside of it. Charles watched him with curiosity between spreading the cheese along his bagel, taking a huge bite as Erik started removing the clothes and setting them on the motel bed.
Erik turned to the television, quickly flipping through the channels until he found the weather. He stood in the middle of the room to watch it for a few seconds, but flicked the TV off when the news came on. There was a shuffling behind him and Erik glanced over his shoulder to see Charles trying to reach the trash can without having to get up. A few seconds of struggling passed before Charles released an undignified shriek and toppled out of his chair (given that his hands and feet were tied, it wasn't entirely too surprising).
Erik laughed - much harder than he'd anticipated - and had to calm himself in order to hear Charles muttering in irritation.
"You know, this would be a lot easier if you'd untie me..."
Erik scoffed, stepping over to the teen and hauling him back onto the bed.
"I won't untie you, but I wouldn't object to a game of chess." He said, reaching into one of the bags from the thrift store to show Charles the old and worn set he'd picked up.
It terrified Erik when Charles' delighted grin sent a swell of elation through him like a punch to the gut.
End Chapter 2.
.......
I'm not fond of this chapter at all. ;-;
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