Revolutions and University Politics: A WIP (2/?), Erik/Charles, X Men First Class
Title: Revolutions and University Politics: A WIP (2/?)
Author: purple_spock
Beta: The lovely, wonderful illfindmyway
without whom this section would have no ending
Verse: X Men First Class
Pairing: Erik/Charles (Eventually)
Status: First Time
Rating: PG 13 (for now)
Word Count: 1769
Genre: AU
Disclaimer: I don't own X Men, nor did I create any of its characters. If I did, I would probably be BFFs with James Mcacvoy.
Summary: An AU, in which no one has mutant powers, but everyone is instead living in San Francisco during the mid 1970's. Charles is a gay rights activist, heavily involved in that scene and is a professor of bio-psychology. Erik works as a machinist for the physics department at the same university Charles teaches at, and is a handsome stranger... or at least he was.
This had never happened before. As Charles starred, wide eyed at the other panicked man, the implications of the moment came crashing down upon him. These parts of his life had never crossed, and had never been meant to. Half formed excuses were dying in his head, each one more pathetic than the last. While being seen in a certain area of town during a certain time may not be enough to concretely prove anything, it was enough to reveal things Charles had wanted to keep hidden. The power this other man had over Charles, that they now had over each other, could be devastating. If the University even suspected that either one of them was gay, not to mention the implications of criminal activity, they wouldn’t hesitate to fire both of them.
The other man was the first to speak. “Can I help you with something?” It sounded like something between a plea and a threat.
“Uh...” the words seemed stuck in Charles’ throat and it took him a moment to remember why he had come down here. He coughed, which seemed to dislodge his words which now seemed to come flowing in an unstoppable stream. He wasn’t sure which was more worrying. “I need a new one of these,” he thrust his mangled box at the other man, who luckily took it from him before it hit the floor. “I had this one, but now it’s unusable and that simply won’t do because I have to finish my experiment by the end of the month and -”
He was cut off midstream. Thank God. “What is it?” the other man asked.
“It’s a, it’s an observation box.” Charles explained simply.
“An observation box?” The other’s tone was indignant.
“Yes for experiments on rats.”
“You’re a physicist?” The other seemed to have forgotten his previous shock and panic at seeing Charles, and was instead somewhat baffled.
“No, no, not a physicist. A psychologist.”
“Ah,” A look of understanding passed across his face. “You do know this is the physics department?”
“Yes of course I do,” Charles huffed in irritation. He really wasn’t explaining himself well. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind doing me a favour. I need another observation box as soon as possible and I can’t wait for the company to ship me one, so -" he interrupted himself, “What’s your name?”
“Erik.” He turned the mangled box over in his hands, looking at the angles and edges of the metal skeleton.
“So, Erik, I was wondering if you, or anyone else here, could build me a new box.” It occurred to Charles that he probably should have lead with that.
“Yeah, sure I can.” It sounded like Erik was agreeing more to get Charles to leave than anything else, but that was rather in line with Charles’ current goals so he didn’t feel the need to press the issue.
“Right,” he said with a quick nod, “I’ll just, I’ll just go then.”
“Yes,” said a little too quickly.
Charles started to leave, immensely grateful to be walking away from that man, that situation, but Erik called him back before he could reach to door.
“Wait. I don’t have your name.”
Charles turned back towards him, “It’s Charles, Charles Xavier.”
“Charles,” Erik repeated with a quick nod.
He left rather quickly after that, trying to ignore the sense of impending doom hanging over him. This could prove to be quite the problem.
***
Charles left early that day. After nearly an hour of sitting in his office staring at the wall he decided he’d be better off at home, where he would at least be spared of students with questions or nosey colleges. Luckily by the time he got home Raven had already left for work. He knew that if she had been home he wouldn’t have been able to fake that he was alright, and the whole story would have come out. He wasn’t ready to make this her problem yet.
Sitting heavily on his couch he began to think about what he had desperately been trying to push to the back of his mind since his encounter with Erik. If Erik was even half as smart as Charles he would have put two and two together as soon as Charles has walked into the machine shop. The truth of the matter was that straight men didn’t hang out in the Castro on a Saturday night, and they didn’t get arrested outside a well known gay-rights centre.
Every horror story he’d ever heard about people being outed and losing their jobs ran through his mind. Not to mention all the tales of people who’d turned against each other in self preservation, outing others and ruining their lives in attempt to protect their own lives and livelihoods.
Charles tried to quell the panic attack rising in his chest. He tried telling himself that there was no grantee that this Erik would turn on him. Even though they both had a lot to lose, there was such a thing as being a decent person. Not to mention they had seen each other at a pro-gay meeting. Peopled involved in the pro-gay movement usually showed some solidarity. But you never can tell what people will do when you back them into a corner. Says an irritating voice in his head.
With a moan Charles laid down on the couch, closing his eyes and wishing the world away. The implications of the situation swirled around his mind, a mess of issues with no possible solutions. He cracked an eye open to look at a nearby clock, disheartened to see that almost four hours have passed and he’s no closer to a solution than when he got home. If anything he feels further away from any sort of answer.
Before Raven could come home and find him lying on the couch, in the dark, like a pathetic lump, he got up and shuffled down the hall to his room. Collapsing face down on top of his still unmade bed, over the lumpy pile of covers, still in his clothes. He fell asleep rather quickly, but it was too shallow and too filled with restless and worried dreams for him to really notice.
***
The next morning he felt like a profound pile of crap. He forced himself through getting ready, grunted non-commitally at the comments Raven made concerning his admittedly haggard appearance, and managed to get onto the bus all in one piece. As he shuffled into his office he was indescribably happy that he had no classes to teach that morning as he was unsure if he could even find the classroom, let alone lecture for an hour and a half about Skinner vs. Pavlov.
He was just trying to decide whether he should call Hank in the lab to tell him he wasn’t coming or if the boy would even notice Charles was absent, when there was a knock on his open door. Expecting the department secretary he turned, a rather forced smile already fixed on his face, to find Erik, standing in his doorway looking remarkably awkward, same broken nose, same piercing eyes as before.
“Professor Xavier? May I have a word with you?”
He hadn’t noticed it earlier but now that he had, the accent that laced Erik’s voice was unignorable. He couldn’t place it. He seemed polished from years of speaking English but was strangely familiar. He wasn’t sure if it made Erik’s voice more comforting or more threatening.
“Of course. Do come in.”
Erik moved awkwardly into Charles’ office, looking very much out of place in the cramped room. He looked around at the various things clogging the shelves of his bookcases which gave Charles the chance to close the door behind him and move back to the chair behind his desk.
“Have a seat,” Charles gestured to the chairs on the other side of the desk, secretly impressed at how calm he sounded.
“Thank you,” Erik said as both men sank into their chairs at once, keeping their eyes on each other as they did so. Formalities now mainly disposed with a heavy silence fell between them, neither wanting to be the first to break it. As each second ticked by Charles began to panic, a rapid stream of thoughts running through every possible scenario including several involving bodily harm or career ruin. He continued to stare at Erik, unblinking as he felt a lump of panic rising in this throat.
Thankfully, Erik broke the silence before Charles could start hyperventilating. “I’m not going to say anything to them. The University that is. And I would greatly appreciate it if you...” Erik petered off awkwardly at his point.
“If I would what?” Charles ran through his various blackmail scenarios.
Erik looked incredibly uncomfortable as he slowly said “Do the same. For me.”
Charles was shocked at his own stupidity. It had never occurred to him to do what Erik had just done and simply ask that this was kept between them. Relief spread through his as he nodded quickly “Yes, of course I won’t say anything to anyone. You have my word.” There was an immediate change in Erik. The tension he had been carrying seemed to lift and a smile broke out on his face that left a lump in Charles’ throat for a reason other than panic.
They looked at each other, once again unsure of what to say. The tension was gone but the awkwardness between them remained. Having never called a truce with anyone agreeing not to out the before. Again, it was Erik who spoke first. “So I’ve started on your box. Luckily I had some glass from another project, and didn’t have to order any in. It saved about a week of time, and it should be all set by Friday. Is that soon enough for you?”
“Oh, yes that would be wonderful. As I said if I ordered one in it would take at least two weeks.”
“I was wondering actually,” Erik shifted forward in his seat as though he was about to ask something important, “What exactly do you do?”
Charles laughed, “That is an excellent question.”
They had talked for another fifteen minutes about Charles research and how long Erik had worked for the University. The atmosphere between them lightened considerably, and their conversation flowed easily, the earlier tension and worry now gone.
After Erik had left, Charles sat back in his chair, unable to help the smile spreading on his face, and he’d already thought of something else to break in the lab.
Author: purple_spock
Beta: The lovely, wonderful illfindmyway
without whom this section would have no ending
Verse: X Men First Class
Pairing: Erik/Charles (Eventually)
Status: First Time
Rating: PG 13 (for now)
Word Count: 1769
Genre: AU
Disclaimer: I don't own X Men, nor did I create any of its characters. If I did, I would probably be BFFs with James Mcacvoy.
Summary: An AU, in which no one has mutant powers, but everyone is instead living in San Francisco during the mid 1970's. Charles is a gay rights activist, heavily involved in that scene and is a professor of bio-psychology. Erik works as a machinist for the physics department at the same university Charles teaches at, and is a handsome stranger... or at least he was.
This had never happened before. As Charles starred, wide eyed at the other panicked man, the implications of the moment came crashing down upon him. These parts of his life had never crossed, and had never been meant to. Half formed excuses were dying in his head, each one more pathetic than the last. While being seen in a certain area of town during a certain time may not be enough to concretely prove anything, it was enough to reveal things Charles had wanted to keep hidden. The power this other man had over Charles, that they now had over each other, could be devastating. If the University even suspected that either one of them was gay, not to mention the implications of criminal activity, they wouldn’t hesitate to fire both of them.
The other man was the first to speak. “Can I help you with something?” It sounded like something between a plea and a threat.
“Uh...” the words seemed stuck in Charles’ throat and it took him a moment to remember why he had come down here. He coughed, which seemed to dislodge his words which now seemed to come flowing in an unstoppable stream. He wasn’t sure which was more worrying. “I need a new one of these,” he thrust his mangled box at the other man, who luckily took it from him before it hit the floor. “I had this one, but now it’s unusable and that simply won’t do because I have to finish my experiment by the end of the month and -”
He was cut off midstream. Thank God. “What is it?” the other man asked.
“It’s a, it’s an observation box.” Charles explained simply.
“An observation box?” The other’s tone was indignant.
“Yes for experiments on rats.”
“You’re a physicist?” The other seemed to have forgotten his previous shock and panic at seeing Charles, and was instead somewhat baffled.
“No, no, not a physicist. A psychologist.”
“Ah,” A look of understanding passed across his face. “You do know this is the physics department?”
“Yes of course I do,” Charles huffed in irritation. He really wasn’t explaining himself well. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind doing me a favour. I need another observation box as soon as possible and I can’t wait for the company to ship me one, so -" he interrupted himself, “What’s your name?”
“Erik.” He turned the mangled box over in his hands, looking at the angles and edges of the metal skeleton.
“So, Erik, I was wondering if you, or anyone else here, could build me a new box.” It occurred to Charles that he probably should have lead with that.
“Yeah, sure I can.” It sounded like Erik was agreeing more to get Charles to leave than anything else, but that was rather in line with Charles’ current goals so he didn’t feel the need to press the issue.
“Right,” he said with a quick nod, “I’ll just, I’ll just go then.”
“Yes,” said a little too quickly.
Charles started to leave, immensely grateful to be walking away from that man, that situation, but Erik called him back before he could reach to door.
“Wait. I don’t have your name.”
Charles turned back towards him, “It’s Charles, Charles Xavier.”
“Charles,” Erik repeated with a quick nod.
He left rather quickly after that, trying to ignore the sense of impending doom hanging over him. This could prove to be quite the problem.
***
Charles left early that day. After nearly an hour of sitting in his office staring at the wall he decided he’d be better off at home, where he would at least be spared of students with questions or nosey colleges. Luckily by the time he got home Raven had already left for work. He knew that if she had been home he wouldn’t have been able to fake that he was alright, and the whole story would have come out. He wasn’t ready to make this her problem yet.
Sitting heavily on his couch he began to think about what he had desperately been trying to push to the back of his mind since his encounter with Erik. If Erik was even half as smart as Charles he would have put two and two together as soon as Charles has walked into the machine shop. The truth of the matter was that straight men didn’t hang out in the Castro on a Saturday night, and they didn’t get arrested outside a well known gay-rights centre.
Every horror story he’d ever heard about people being outed and losing their jobs ran through his mind. Not to mention all the tales of people who’d turned against each other in self preservation, outing others and ruining their lives in attempt to protect their own lives and livelihoods.
Charles tried to quell the panic attack rising in his chest. He tried telling himself that there was no grantee that this Erik would turn on him. Even though they both had a lot to lose, there was such a thing as being a decent person. Not to mention they had seen each other at a pro-gay meeting. Peopled involved in the pro-gay movement usually showed some solidarity. But you never can tell what people will do when you back them into a corner. Says an irritating voice in his head.
With a moan Charles laid down on the couch, closing his eyes and wishing the world away. The implications of the situation swirled around his mind, a mess of issues with no possible solutions. He cracked an eye open to look at a nearby clock, disheartened to see that almost four hours have passed and he’s no closer to a solution than when he got home. If anything he feels further away from any sort of answer.
Before Raven could come home and find him lying on the couch, in the dark, like a pathetic lump, he got up and shuffled down the hall to his room. Collapsing face down on top of his still unmade bed, over the lumpy pile of covers, still in his clothes. He fell asleep rather quickly, but it was too shallow and too filled with restless and worried dreams for him to really notice.
***
The next morning he felt like a profound pile of crap. He forced himself through getting ready, grunted non-commitally at the comments Raven made concerning his admittedly haggard appearance, and managed to get onto the bus all in one piece. As he shuffled into his office he was indescribably happy that he had no classes to teach that morning as he was unsure if he could even find the classroom, let alone lecture for an hour and a half about Skinner vs. Pavlov.
He was just trying to decide whether he should call Hank in the lab to tell him he wasn’t coming or if the boy would even notice Charles was absent, when there was a knock on his open door. Expecting the department secretary he turned, a rather forced smile already fixed on his face, to find Erik, standing in his doorway looking remarkably awkward, same broken nose, same piercing eyes as before.
“Professor Xavier? May I have a word with you?”
He hadn’t noticed it earlier but now that he had, the accent that laced Erik’s voice was unignorable. He couldn’t place it. He seemed polished from years of speaking English but was strangely familiar. He wasn’t sure if it made Erik’s voice more comforting or more threatening.
“Of course. Do come in.”
Erik moved awkwardly into Charles’ office, looking very much out of place in the cramped room. He looked around at the various things clogging the shelves of his bookcases which gave Charles the chance to close the door behind him and move back to the chair behind his desk.
“Have a seat,” Charles gestured to the chairs on the other side of the desk, secretly impressed at how calm he sounded.
“Thank you,” Erik said as both men sank into their chairs at once, keeping their eyes on each other as they did so. Formalities now mainly disposed with a heavy silence fell between them, neither wanting to be the first to break it. As each second ticked by Charles began to panic, a rapid stream of thoughts running through every possible scenario including several involving bodily harm or career ruin. He continued to stare at Erik, unblinking as he felt a lump of panic rising in this throat.
Thankfully, Erik broke the silence before Charles could start hyperventilating. “I’m not going to say anything to them. The University that is. And I would greatly appreciate it if you...” Erik petered off awkwardly at his point.
“If I would what?” Charles ran through his various blackmail scenarios.
Erik looked incredibly uncomfortable as he slowly said “Do the same. For me.”
Charles was shocked at his own stupidity. It had never occurred to him to do what Erik had just done and simply ask that this was kept between them. Relief spread through his as he nodded quickly “Yes, of course I won’t say anything to anyone. You have my word.” There was an immediate change in Erik. The tension he had been carrying seemed to lift and a smile broke out on his face that left a lump in Charles’ throat for a reason other than panic.
They looked at each other, once again unsure of what to say. The tension was gone but the awkwardness between them remained. Having never called a truce with anyone agreeing not to out the before. Again, it was Erik who spoke first. “So I’ve started on your box. Luckily I had some glass from another project, and didn’t have to order any in. It saved about a week of time, and it should be all set by Friday. Is that soon enough for you?”
“Oh, yes that would be wonderful. As I said if I ordered one in it would take at least two weeks.”
“I was wondering actually,” Erik shifted forward in his seat as though he was about to ask something important, “What exactly do you do?”
Charles laughed, “That is an excellent question.”
They had talked for another fifteen minutes about Charles research and how long Erik had worked for the University. The atmosphere between them lightened considerably, and their conversation flowed easily, the earlier tension and worry now gone.
After Erik had left, Charles sat back in his chair, unable to help the smile spreading on his face, and he’d already thought of something else to break in the lab.