Work Text:
“Comprendo más que hablo.” Erik surveyed his Spanish class, deciding who to call on. His eyes lit momentarily on Jean, then settled on Scott, whose face was turned toward the window. “Mr. Summers. Care to translate?”
Scott's head whipped around with gratifying speed. “What?”
“Comprendo más que hablo. Translation.”
“I understand – something.”
“I understand more than I speak. Clearly not true in your case.”
Scott turned as red as the lenses of his glasses, and the other students chuckled, Jean especially.
Erik started to turn to write something on the board, and that's when he caught sight of them. A particular pair of arresting blue eyes, in an equally compelling face.
“Don't mind me,” Charles said with a soft smile. “I'm just here to observe.”
Erik offered him a strained smile and dragged his attention back to his class. He scribbled "más que” on the board, said, “Más que. More than. Anyone want to give me another example?” He looked around the room, carefully avoiding the figure framed in the doorway y sus ojos hermosos.
Peter sat slouched in a corner. He wasn't actually a student – Charles wanted him to teach a literature course next semester – but he'd taken to hanging out in Erik's classes. An odd kind of father-son bonding, but Erik found he was okay with it. Besides, the kid was brilliant. And yes, Erik was biased. “Peter?”
His son smirked. “Tomo cerveza más que tomo tequila.”
Erik fought the urge to smile. Peter was quite the smart-ass. “Not really appropriate in a room full of high school students.”
Charles hid his smile behind his hand, but Erik could see the twinkle in his eyes. Esos ojos magníficos.
Erik tore his gaze away from those vivid blue eyes. Azules, como el cielo, como el mar. A quick glance at the clock told him class wasn't supposed to end for another five minutes, but he was so done. Done in by esos ojos lindos.
“For next time, I want three paragraphs using the vocabulary from this chapter and the exercises from page fifty-six of your workbooks. Class dismissed.”
The students filed out past Charles. Peter shot Erik a knowing smirk, then sauntered out.
Charles wheeled forward, smiling warmly. “Is something bothering you, Erik?” he teased gently. “You seem a bit distracted.”
“I'm distracted, all right. By those lethal weapons you call eyes.” Erik closed the remaining distance between them, traced along Charles' brows with a fingertip, then bent to kiss him, slow and deep. “Te amo , Charles. Te amo más que mi vida.”