Fic: To Have and To Hold, Charles/Erik, PG
Title: To Have and To Hold
Author: caitri
Rating: PG
Pairings: Charles/Erik
Word Count: 478
Summary: A wedding snapshot.
Disclaimer: I know this may come as a shock, but I am not, amazing as it may seem, Stan Lee or Matthew Vaughn. Just so you know.
A/N: For avictoriangirl, who made an amazing icon and banner of the boys here.
Charles can’t quite believe it, right up to and in fact including the moment Erik leans in and kisses him. Like all of Erik’s kisses-in fact, like Erik himself-it is a fast thing, burning and intense and filled with so much that Charles thinks he could drown in the sea of memory and emotion. Dimly, he’s aware of the vicar beside them, repressing amusement even as he states, “I now present to you, for the first time as a wedded couple, Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr!” and the fierce delight and whoops of Raven and Alex and Armando and Sean. But most of all, he is aware of Erik, the man himself (the scruff of his cheeks biting into Charles’s cleanshaven skin, his scent of musky cologne) and the thoughts he is projecting so loudly (Emma’s mental eyeroll is like a tickle in his skull).
The hotel sheets, cool under their skin that first night together, halfway through their trip to Virginia.
The possessive fire in Erik’s mind during the conference in DC, when he slipped an arm around Charles’s waist and showed all his teeth to the unfortunate aide who had asked if Charles had plans for that evening. Erik’s firm answer of “Yes, he does, I’m afraid,” and the refrain of mine mine mine.
An image of Charles himself, shirt unbuttoned and tie loosened, looking up hungrily- This isn’t a memory, he realizes, but Erik’s vision of tonight, or no, an hour from now.
Less than that, now, mein schatz. Erik’s mental voice is smug, but as he breaks the kiss and beams down at him, eyes crinkled up, he is as much unaccustomed exuberance as desire. “Charles?” He offers his arm.
Charles takes it. “I suppose this means we’re honest men now?” They start walking down the aisle together as the children enthusiastically throw white rose petals at them. The adults-well, the ones Charles has to think of as adults, Emma and Azazel and Janos-hang back, applauding. Janos is hoping that there will be beer at the reception, and Azazel is trying to not look at Raven in her fashionable brown dress that brings out the azure of her skin remarkably, and is failing miserably. Charles laughs.
“As honest as we’ll ever be,” Erik says. I’ve only ever been that with you, Charles. Even without this, he adds mentally, the image of their new rings shining in his mind. The metal is warm on Charles’s skin. Erik had made them himself, shaping the gold carefully, so carefully with his power. Using his abilities for this gentle act said everything about the change wrought in him these last years.
We’ll always have this, Charles promised, currents of affection shuttling back and forth between them. “Good.” They stepped outside the church into the waiting car, and into the future that was mutant and proud.
Author: caitri
Rating: PG
Pairings: Charles/Erik
Word Count: 478
Summary: A wedding snapshot.
Disclaimer: I know this may come as a shock, but I am not, amazing as it may seem, Stan Lee or Matthew Vaughn. Just so you know.
A/N: For avictoriangirl, who made an amazing icon and banner of the boys here.
Charles can’t quite believe it, right up to and in fact including the moment Erik leans in and kisses him. Like all of Erik’s kisses-in fact, like Erik himself-it is a fast thing, burning and intense and filled with so much that Charles thinks he could drown in the sea of memory and emotion. Dimly, he’s aware of the vicar beside them, repressing amusement even as he states, “I now present to you, for the first time as a wedded couple, Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr!” and the fierce delight and whoops of Raven and Alex and Armando and Sean. But most of all, he is aware of Erik, the man himself (the scruff of his cheeks biting into Charles’s cleanshaven skin, his scent of musky cologne) and the thoughts he is projecting so loudly (Emma’s mental eyeroll is like a tickle in his skull).
The hotel sheets, cool under their skin that first night together, halfway through their trip to Virginia.
The possessive fire in Erik’s mind during the conference in DC, when he slipped an arm around Charles’s waist and showed all his teeth to the unfortunate aide who had asked if Charles had plans for that evening. Erik’s firm answer of “Yes, he does, I’m afraid,” and the refrain of mine mine mine.
An image of Charles himself, shirt unbuttoned and tie loosened, looking up hungrily- This isn’t a memory, he realizes, but Erik’s vision of tonight, or no, an hour from now.
Less than that, now, mein schatz. Erik’s mental voice is smug, but as he breaks the kiss and beams down at him, eyes crinkled up, he is as much unaccustomed exuberance as desire. “Charles?” He offers his arm.
Charles takes it. “I suppose this means we’re honest men now?” They start walking down the aisle together as the children enthusiastically throw white rose petals at them. The adults-well, the ones Charles has to think of as adults, Emma and Azazel and Janos-hang back, applauding. Janos is hoping that there will be beer at the reception, and Azazel is trying to not look at Raven in her fashionable brown dress that brings out the azure of her skin remarkably, and is failing miserably. Charles laughs.
“As honest as we’ll ever be,” Erik says. I’ve only ever been that with you, Charles. Even without this, he adds mentally, the image of their new rings shining in his mind. The metal is warm on Charles’s skin. Erik had made them himself, shaping the gold carefully, so carefully with his power. Using his abilities for this gentle act said everything about the change wrought in him these last years.
We’ll always have this, Charles promised, currents of affection shuttling back and forth between them. “Good.” They stepped outside the church into the waiting car, and into the future that was mutant and proud.