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December 1st
Erik can’t believe his luck. Or his misfortune. He hasn’t quite decided yet if this was the best possible or worst possible outcome.
He just picked Charles in the faculty secret Santa draw.
Charles.
Stupid. Annoying. Arrogant. Gorgeous. Utterly perfect. Charles.
Always eager for a chat. Never shying away from revealing very intimate information. And always so completely oblivious to the torch Erik has been carrying for him for close to two years now.
Now Erik has to buy him a Christmas gift.
Fuck.
December 5th
“What are you doing tonight?” Charles asks as he pops himself down on the extra seat in Erik’s office.
Erik glances over the top of the book he was reading and, trying to not look too distracted by the way the fabric of Charles’ slacks stretch over his thighs as they flex, answers.
“Raven invited me to some art gallery thing. She says there will be wine so I might as well go.”
“Oh good!” Charles says happily, “Me too. Then I’ll have someone to hide behind in case I run into an ex.”
“Do you expect there to be many of your exes?”Erik asks, face barely moving.
“No, not really,” Charles says, with a cheeky smile. “I might run into my mother’s old tennis pro – he’s an artist now – but he was an amazing lay so I wouldn’t mind that all too much.”
Charles chuckles merrily but no matter how much Erik wants to join in, he just can’t manage it.
“What about you?” Charles asks. “Anything happening on the guy front?”
Erik, desperate to get away from the direction the conversation is taking, grunts a non-committal “No” and turns back to his book. He has a gained a reputation across campus for being cold and brutish, but really he just doesn’t know what to say half the time. Especially when Charles is involved. He never knows how to act so he falls back on being a dick. Somehow though, Charles never seems to mind Erik’s temper.
“Well,” Charles says, getting up and dusting some invisible lint off the front of his trousers, “as always, Erik, it was… informative.”
He laughs and heads for the door. “See you tonight, my friend!”
December 5th, later in the evening
Erik feels like a creep. Standing in the back, next to something that is either part of the exhibit or possibly an intricate trash can – he can’t tell, he watches as Charles works the room. Floating from conversation to conversation like a bee collecting pollen. Always with a cheeky grin, a firm handshake, and a flirty word.
Erik can only watch. His eyes linger on Charles’ back and he thinks to himself that he has never realized just how wide Charles’ shoulders are. He lets his eyes drop further, following Charles’ spine, until they can rest on the swell of his ass. Erik wants to bite it.
“See something you like?” someone whispers right into his ear.
The sound of Raven’s voice makes him leap. He tears his eyes away from Charles as he spins around to face her.
“Raven,” he says flatly. An uneasy feeling, as though he has been caught doing something he shouldn’t, starts in the pit of his stomach and spreads through his limbs. “I didn’t see you there.” He hopes that the bored tone of his voice will hide just how nervous he is suddenly feeling.
“Sorry,” Raven laughs, “you were a million miles away. I couldn’t help myself.” She steps a little closer, leaning in conspiratorially. “So, you didn’t answer.” She looks pointedly over at where Charles is having an animated conversation with a tall, very hairy, man. “Do you see something you like?”
Erik sighs and frowns. “None of your business,” he says and luckily Raven knows him well enough not to push him.
“I swear to God,” she mutters under her breath. “You two are the blindest fucking idiots ever.”
December 13th
“I’m partial to the blue one myself. But purple is more daring.”
Erik looks up from the row of cashmere sweaters he had been staring at and into the pair of bluest, most beautiful eyes he knows.
“Shopping for yourself or a friend?” Charles asks, stepping closer and running his hand over the soft lilac sweater.
“Just doing some combined Hanukkah and Christmas shopping,” Erik says, hoping that his face isn’t turning quite the color of beetroot he fears it is.
“Ooh, how nice!” Charles chirps and tips one of his own bags over to show Erik. It is full of shiny packages covered in giant bows. “Me too. I found a gorgeous sparkly dress for Raven. She is going to absolutely love it, it will complement her scales so well.”
He looks back up at, Erik, one piece of floppy chestnut hair falling across his forehead, and he is so pretty Erik wants to fall through the ground just to get away. He does not know how to handle this. He does not know what to do when Charles looks at him like that. He wants to spontaneously combust.
“Did you get her in the secret Santa draw?” Erik asks.
“Oh no, I got Hank,” Charles says. “What do you get someone who is 6’5, blue, and hairy? I was thinking a really good comb, but I don’t know if that could be considered offensive.”
Charles leans in even closer. He is so close now that Erik could easily wrap his arm around his shoulders and pull him up against him. He doesn’t. Of course.
“I wish I’d pulled you,” Charles says. “I think you’d be easy.” He barks a laugh half a second later. “To shop for, I mean. I’d just get you a nice big book.”
“I do love a good book,” Erik agrees.
“And I’ve always loved a man who reads,” Charles smiles. Then with a quick wave and wink he saunters off, leaving Erik behind.
December 15th
Erik is confused.
He could swear Charles was flirting with him the other day. The looks and the smiles and the innuendos. He has seen Charles flirt before, many more times than he would like to think about, and it is never a subtle experience. If Charles was a dog he would be humping your leg within ten seconds of meeting.
But this seemed more relaxed, not at all as overt, and it makes Erik doubt himself. Perhaps he just made the whole interaction up inside his head. He certainly has fantasized about it enough times before.
This is new. He has never experienced this before. What if he, for once, was the object of Charles’ flirtation? What if he actually has a chance?
He is so confused.
December 18th
It has been a long time since Erik felt so determined about something. He has spent almost two years dreaming about doing something but being too afraid of failing to actually do it.
He wants to tell Charles how he feels. Maybe it will all blow up in his face but he can’t wait any longer. If Charles feels the same way he doesn’t want to waste any more time.
And if he doesn’t, at least he will have the Christmas break to lick his wounds. And maybe start applying for positions elsewhere.
He pulls a piece of paper from his top drawer, it’s thick and crisp, then he picks up a pen and rests the tip against the smooth surface of the paper. Then the words just tumble out of him and onto the paper.
He didn’t realize that putting his heart on a piece of paper would come so easily. But within five minutes of starting he is folding the letter carefully and sliding it into an envelope. Then he pushes his chair back and takes the few steps across the room to where he left the Nordstrom bag earlier.
He smiles to himself as he pulls out the soft lilac sweater and clips the letter to it.
December 2 4 th
Erik watches as Charles pulls the red gift box from the bag and watches as he opens it. Even though he is across the room he can tell the moment Charles finds the letter. It feels like time is moving trough thick mud as he follows Charles eyes as they move across the crisp white paper.
Then his heart drops to his feet.
No.
Charles, without so much as a look in Erik’s direction, shoves the letter in his pocket and leaves.
Early morning December 25th
The knocking on his door is loud and so incessant that Erik thinks that something horrible must have happened. Why else would someone be banging on his door at seven in the morning. On Christmas day.
“What!?” he says, as he throws the door open. “Charles?”
“Can I come in?”
“Of course,” Erik says, stepping back so quickly he nearly trips over his own feet, “Come. Come in.”
Charles follows him through the door and into the small living room. Erik sits down on one of the armchairs and motions for Charles to do the same.
“It’s Christmas morning,” Erik says after a few seconds of increasingly painful silence. “Why are you here, Charles?”
“I got your letter,” Charles says.
“I saw that,” Erik says, “you read it and then you stuffed it away and you left. You didn’t say one word to me all night.” He sighs deeply. “Maybe you should go back to your Christmas celebration.”
The wound is still fresh and now here Charles is to poke at it some more.
“No!” Charles says quickly. “No. I know I did that and it certainly wasn’t my finest hour.” He pauses and looks away for a second. “The truth is, I freaked out. I read your letter and I freaked out. You know me, Erik, I date people - “
“I am well aware. I think I’ve heard a story about every single one of them.”
“But that’s the thing,” Charles says and he is almost starting to sound desperate. “I’ve told you stories about my exes. They’re my exes because... I don’t commit. I’ve never felt any reason to commit to someone before. But you are different.”
Charles takes another few deep breaths. Erik just watches with his mouth open and eyes growing bigger and bigger.
“I like you, Erik. I really like you and I have for a while and if I read your letter right I think you really like me too. And I really, really want to commit. I want you.”
“Do you want coffee?” Erik says after a few seconds of utter disbelief. It’s the only thing he can think of. He will probably have to pinch himself a few more times before he can believe this is actually happening. “Can you stay or do you have some family thing or something you need to go to?” he asks.
“I can stay,” Charles says, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. He shrugs off his coat and reveals the soft lilac sweater covering his broad shoulders.
“You’re wearing the sweater.”
“It’s a lovely sweater.”
“You’re lovelier,” Erik says. Then he does what he has wanted to do for close to two years. He wraps his arm around Charles, pulls him close, and presses their lips together.