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The very first thought Charles had of Erik’s house was... goodness, this was small. He looked at the worn stone outing and the brightly coloured blinds inside the windows, and looked up at Mrs. Lehnsherr—who kept assuring Charles that it was just fine to call her Edie—and asked, “And how many people live here?”
“Erik’s vather, myself and Erik,” Mrs. Lehnsherr told him with a very kind smile. Charles wished his own mother smiled that nicely at him, but she hadn't smiled much at all since his father passed.
“Oh,” he mouthed, looking back at the house and wondering how three entire people lived in such a small dwelling. Charles was fairly certain that their staff shared a larger space than the small home in front of him, and they didn’t have to sleep there! “I see.”
“Not vat you’re used to?” Mrs. Lehnsherr asked him with a curious-looking tilt of her head—Charles did the same when he was thinking, and it made him like her even more—and Charles felt his face get very warm.
Oh dear, but he was probably being incredibly impolite. His father used to tell them that even though they had much greater means than other people did, they were just like every other person they came across, because they were all human—his father hadn't known about mutants, and Charles sometimes wishes that he'd told him. Even though his father had always been very clear that they should treat everyone just the same because that was how everyone deserved to be treated, he knew his mother didn't feel the same at all.
His mother thought that all the money their family had made then more important than those who didn't have as much money as them. Sometimes when they were at the shops—back when father was still around and they did their grocery shopping themselves as a family—she would think really terrible things about the poor people they saw. Charles agreed with his father much more than his mother, and that wasn't just because he'd always gotten along better with his father.
Charles knew what everyone thought, all the time, even when he didn't want to. He was very confident that having money didn't make his mother any better of a person than Mrs. Lehnsherr, who had been so, so very kind and so very caring that Charles had cried very hard in her arms just because she was so worried about him. Mother never worried about him as much as Mrs. Lehnsherr had been worrying about him, and she barely even knew him!
Instead of stumbling through an apology like he was sure would happen if he tried to speak, feeling incredibly embarrassed that Mrs. Lehnsherr had been able to tell that he was judging her home, he pressed forward an image of his own house, showing Mrs. Lehnsherr the sprawling stone columns that decorated the outside and the fancy archways and glittering chandeliers and all the twisting, turning hallways that made up the inside so she would know why he was so surprised and hopefully still like him.
Without meaning to, Charles felt emotion slip through his link with Mrs. Lehnsherr. Charles knew that he needed lots more practice showing people thoughts, and maybe now that Erik seemed to really want to be his friend he would be able to. As he was showing Mrs. Lehnsherr his house, he could feel that some of his sadness coloured over the images, and he ducked his head to the ground so he wouldn't have to look at her as he tried very hard not to listen to her thoughts.
“Zat seems quite lonely, Schatz,” Mrs. Lehnsherr said gently, her hand coming down to pet over Charles' hair, smoothing his bangs away from his eyes—he was due for a haircut, but each time mother thought to take him for one, she forgot—before bending over and placing a very nice kiss to the top of his hair.
Erik, who was standing beside him and holding his hand, squeezed it really tightly and gave him a super big smile that made Charles' heart beat very fast—Erik may have said that he was pretty first, but Charles rather thought that Erik was the prettiest boy in the entire world —just because of how lovely his smile was to look at it.
“Do you want to see my knitting, still?” Erik asked, sounding a little worried and thinking worried thoughts, which was very silly.
So Charles told him just that. “Of course I do, silly!” he said enthusiastically, letting Erik feel his excitement and smiling a tiny smile when Erik gasped and looked at him with super-wide eyes and an even prettier smile.
“That's so amazing,” Erik whispered quietly, and then he took off running while he shouted, “Last one to the front door is a rotten egg!”
Not wanting to be a rotten egg at all, Charles ran very quickly beside him, making sure he was very careful when they got close to the front door which had a little step that they needed to step up onto. Erik slapped his hand against the front door first, and just as Charles was going to reach for the front door to make sure he wasn't a rotten egg, a horrible thought struck!
Oh no!
If he got to the door first, then Mrs. Lehnsherr would be a rotten egg, and that wasn't any better at all! Whipping his head back and forth, Charles looked at where Erik was proudly touching the door back to where Mrs. Lehnsherr was so slowly making her way to the front, and let his hand slip from Erik's even if it made him very sad to do, before he stepped down the little ledge and waited with his hands folded behind him for Mrs. Lehnsherr to get to the door first, a little smile on his face because he didn't mind being a rotten egg if it meant that Erik and Mrs. Lehnsherr weren’t rotten eggs.
“Charles!” Erik called suddenly, and when Charles looked over at him he was looking very sad. “You're a rotten egg now!”
“That's okay,” he told him with a smile that felt very easy on his lips, stepping back up and reaching out for Erik's hand—secretly very glad when Erik took it, as it meant that he still wanted to hold Charles’ hand even when he'd lost the race. “Mrs. Lehnsherr is much too kind to be a rotten egg, so I don't mind losing when it's to the two of you.”
“Oh, darling,” Mrs. Lehnsherr said oddly, before she once again reached over and patted his hair kindly. “You are so lovely.”
“Thank you,” Charles said politely, his smile growing even bigger at how lovely that made him feel. Charles decided then and there that he very much liked being lovely, and that it was a wonderful thing to be.
“I guess it's okay that you're the rotten egg so that Mama isn't,” Erik told him thoughtfully, and Charles' smile got even bigger because then Erik squeezed his hand very tightly. Oh, but Charles loved it when Erik held his hand! “Do you still want to see my knitting?”
“Of course I do!” Charles told him excitedly, watching Mrs. Lehnsherr open the door and frowning a little when she didn't tell him to keep quiet.
His mother was always telling him that he needed to keep quiet and not make much noise, but Mrs. Lehnsherr didn't seem to think that Charles was too loud at all. In fact, Erik was a very loud little boy, compared to the kids that Charles went to school with, so maybe Mrs. Lehnsherr really didn't care how much noise they made at all, which seemed like it would be a very fun way to play.
Pushing that thought away because it wasn’t very happy, Charles allowed Erik to tug him inside, keeping a smile on his face because Erik was talking to him about all the different types of knitting that he did and it really all sounded very interesting to Charles, even if he didn't know what all of it meant. They stopped right inside the front door, on a lovely little mat that had a word Charles didn't recognize on it but could tell from a quick slip through Erik's thoughts that it said “Welcome” in German, which both of his parents spoke really well and Erik spoke some of.
Charles took his shoes off after Erik, their fingers still twined together and making Charles feel much calmer than he usually would have felt. He didn't like when his mama took him to her friend's houses—he always had to wait with the staff or play with their mean kids who didn't like him or made fun of him, and Charles couldn't even do anything about it because then he would get in trouble. Being here in Erik's house with him and holding his hand didn't feel anything like that at all, and it was with an easy smile on his face that he lined up his shoes neatly, and then did the same to Erik's when he noticed that they weren't very neat at all.
“This is my home,” Erik told him proudly. Charles frowned a little when Erik threw out his arm to show the small space right inside the front door. It... well, it was certainly a home. “I'm going to give you a whole tour, okay?”
“Okay,” Charles agreed, letting Erik pull him around and show him his home.
It really was quite a small house. Charles had been right with what he thought from seeing the outside—it was smaller than their staff dwelling. But... as Erik led him through to the living room (right next to the door) into the dining room (straight ahead) and then into the kitchen (to the left, and also connected to the front hall), Charles couldn't help but look at all the different things they had very closely. He certainly wasn't trying to be rude and Erik was very, very nice with him, letting him stop every single time that something caught his interest and telling Charles about it when he asked.
It was just... so very different from his own home. Charles didn't have any black and white family photos tucked into pretty frames. They had paintings or really big photos on their walls, but nothing like the smaller, grainy photos that the Lehnsherr's had all around. They had more things that Charles' house didn't, like pillows and blankets on the couches and books not in the library, and a cup that was just sitting next to the fireplace. It was very interesting to see all the ways that their homes were different and... even though it was truly very small, Charles found that he liked Erik's house much more than his.
Because as Erik showed him around and pointed things out—like salt and pepper shakers shaped like cats! They looked very silly but very fun and he couldn't help but feel like... well, that Erik's home felt a home in a way that Charles' big, empty house did not. His house had many things in it, like fancy vases and big paintings and very big furniture, but it didn’t have many things that the Lehnsherr’s house had, like blankets on the couches and very nice photographs where they’re all smiling, and a family.
Charles turned back around to find Mrs. Lehnsherr still standing in the doorway, watching them with a smile and some very warm thoughts that made Charles feel very soft in his chest, right by his heart.
“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Lehnsherr. It's very, very nice,” Charles told her seriously, meaning every word and hoping that Mrs. Lehnsherr would believe him and not think him just terrible for the way he had first thought the house was too small. It's not too small at all. I'm very sorry I ever thought that it was!
“Zere is nozing to be sorry of, Schatz,” she told him very kindly, and then held out an arm. Charles darted forward, rushing very quickly but not running—he was inside after all—and then throwing his arms around Mrs. Lehnsherr’s hips and giving her another very tight hug, and, just like during their hug earlier, he felt his eyes get very wet even as he felt very embarrassed.
It was okay, though, because Mrs. Lehnsherr was hugging him very tightly and not thinking any horrible thoughts at all, which made it even better than any hug he’d ever gotten in his entire life, except maybe the hug on the street when Mrs. Lehnsherr and Erik had hugged him. That had been extra amazing, if only because it had Erik as well and hugging Erik was... really, really amazing.
Mrs. Lehnsherr didn’t pull back until Charles did, which may have been why she gave such good hugs. Charles had never been hugged for as long as he wanted before, ever , so being hugged by Mrs. Lehnsherr for as long as he wanted was totally awesome. After a few minutes, Charles felt like the hug had lasted long enough—and he could hear that Erik was starting to get worried but was trying not to bother them in case Charles was really sad and he needed the hug—so he pulled back, and he smiled up at Mrs. Lehnsherr and tried to pretend that he wasn’t feeling very teary-eyed at all, no ma’am.
Thankfully, Mrs. Lehnsherr only smiled at him and didn’t say anything about the way he had definitely cried into her shirt, and she let Charles get himself in order. Crying at home never would have gone over so well, especially if he had cried against his mother the way he had here. Charles knew that Mrs. Lehnsherr was a kinder woman than his mother was, but he found himself surprised by it all over again.
“Thank you very much,” Charles told her.
She smiled down at him and told him, “It is very not a problem, Shatz.”
Charles was opening his mouth to reply when something caught his attention. Tilting his head to the side, he listened closely to the murmuring of new thoughts, letting himself slowly skim over a new mind that felt familiar enough that it caught his attention. “Your husband is home.”
Her eyes went very, very wide, but she didn’t say anything mean and just looked up at the door. Only a second later—no wonder Charles had been able to feel him if he’d been so close!—the front door opened and in walked a... wow, a very handsome man. Charles felt his face get really warm as he looked up and up—gosh, he was so tall! —at the man who stepped inside the house, feeling a smile curl up his face at the very soft thoughts the man was thinking about coming home to his family.
Charles smiled happily as he watched Mr. Lehnsherr get himself in the door, putting down a briefcase and taking off a jacket to hang it up on the hook that was behind the door that Charles hadn’t seen earlier. Mr. Lehnsherr noticed that there was an odd boy in their front entryway but he didn’t say anything, smiling at his wife when she gave him a sweet kiss after another long, difficult day dealing with a job he didn’t want but needed to put a goddamn roof over their head—
Charles pulled himself back into his own head with so much force that he staggered back a step, separating himself from Mr. Lehnsherr’s very strong mind and taking a deep breath as he made sure that his thoughts were his own once again.
“Papa!” Erik called, running right past Charles and throwing himself at the man’s legs. Mr. Lehnsherr pretended to rock backwards, but Charles knew that he was only kidding. “Papa, I made a new friend and his name is Charles and he agreed to come over to see my knitting. Papa, he’s amazing!”
“Vell, vhy don’t you let me go and I can meet him, ja?” Mr. Lehnsherr asked, giving Erik a very warm smile and ruffling his hair. Charles felt something in his chest get very, very tight as his heart started to burn, wishing that he still had a Papa who would ruffle his hair and pretend to be knocked over when Charles hugged him.
Well. He didn’t have a father anymore, but Erik did, and he really wanted to make a good impression on him. He stepped up to where all three of them were now standing right in the front door—and goodness, it really was a very small front entryway if only the three of them could fit within it—and raised his eyes to look Mr. Lehnsherr in his very pale and very nice ones.
Oh goodness gracious, they were almost the prettiest eyes ever (Erik’s eyes were the only eyes Charles had ever seen that were prettier than Mr. Lehnsherr’s).
“Hello, Mr. Lehnsherr. My name is Charles Xavier, and it's very lovely to meet you,” Charles said extra politely, holding out his hand for a shake and trying very hard not to read his mind too much more, because Charles was pretty sure most people would not have liked that he could do that, even though Erik and Mrs. Lehnsherr didn't seem to mind very much at all.
Mr. Lehnsherr had a very nice looking smile. Goodness. It was a very handsome smile. Charles sneaked his eyes over to Erik and imagined him looking that handsome one day, and felt his cheeks get very warm in the way that meant he was most certainly blushing, and tried not to think about it much more. He certainly didn’t need them to ask him any questions about why he was blushing so badly, after all, and from how warm his face felt... well, he was certainly blushing very, very darkly.
“Vell, vhat a polite young man!” Mr. Lehnsherr said very loudly with a look at Erik that Charles didn’t think was all that nice, because Erik was very polite, but it only took him a moment to make sure that Mr. Lehnsherr was only teasing and that he wasn’t being mean to Erik, which was very good. Mr. Lehnsherr reached out and wrapped Charles’ whole hand in his hand and shook it very nicely, not making fun of him at all, not even in his thoughts, like the husbands of some of his mother’s friends tended to do. “It’s very nice to meet friend of Erik’s. Ve have not had ze honour yet.”
“It’s very nice to meet you too,” Charles said, attention snagging on the shift in Erik’s thoughts, feeling very aware of them even if he wasn’t trying to be aware of them. Erik’s thoughts were just very difficult for Charles to not hear.
Mr. Lehnsherr was about to open his mouth to ask how Charles and Erik knew each other, because he recognized the name and rightly realized just how he knew it, when Erik made a noise and then pushed his father right out of the way as he said, “Come on, Charles, it’s time to show you my knitting!”
He felt a smile pull at his lips as his friend’s mind got very bright with jealousy. Apparently, Erik did not very much like the way that his Papa was making Charles blush so much. It made Charles smile even wider, and he let Erik take his hand and then intertwine their fingers as they marched into the living room, unable to completely stop listening in to mister and misses Lehnsherr’s thoughts, feeling very glad when there wasn’t anything bad there at all even though they had both watched Erik take his hand to tug him away.
“This is my knitting corner,” Erik told him very proudly, drawing Charles back to the moment at hand and away from the adult’s thoughts. Charles blinked at the boy in front of him and sorted through Erik’s memory to catch back up. He felt his smile grow even wider at the pure pride seeping from Erik’s mind and he looked at Erik’s knitting corner with great interest and greater concentration, because that was totally what Erik deserved from him.
“This is a very nice corner, Erik,” Charles told him seriously, meaning the compliment very much.
Erik’s knitting corner had a very comfortable looking chair that Charles figured would fit the both of them very well, if they were to try to sit on it together, and beside it sat a metal table that had a lamp on it and a big basket of yarn underneath it. Charles had never knitted anything before, but his mother had bought him a whole collection of knitted hats and scarves and mitts from a very nice older lady Charles got to meet, in hopes of starting a new trend among the kids.
It had started a trend, as over the next few days, more and more kids at his school had shown up in hand-knitted winter-wear. That didn’t mean the kids stopped picking on him, though, even though all of their insults didn't make much sense when they were wearing the exact same things as they were teasing Charles for wearing.
Pushing that thought aside, Charles once again focused back on Erik, who was telling him about all of his different adventures with knitting and all of the different things that he had knitted.
“So... do you still want to see some of it?” Erik asked him quietly, and a memory flashed so brightly through his mind that Charles couldn’t help to see it, and then felt very sad when it was a memory of Erik trying to show a friend in his class, who had not liked his knitting at all and started teasing Erik for doing something so silly and girly.
Well, Charles was certainly not going to do that.
“Very much,” he told him seriously, nodding his head when Erik looked at him for a moment and smiling the nicest smile he could possibly smile so Erik would know he was being very truthful.
“Alright,” Erik said a little slowly, like he wasn’t totally sure if he believed Charles—it wasn’t Erik’s fault that they didn’t know each other very well and that he wasn’t able to read Charles’ mind to know that he was telling the truth, but it still didn’t feel very nice—before he nodded his head and very seriously told Charles, “You need to sit on my knitting chair, okay?”
“A-Are you sure?” No one else had ever wanted Charles to be in their space as much as Erik did, and it made him feel very, very special, and very, very warm inside.
“Of course! C’mon, climb up!” Erik insisted, his mind very bright with excitement. Charles felt his own face get warm but he did as asked, climbing up into the chair and getting very comfortably settled on the super-soft cushion, wiggling his bum a little and folding his hands in his lap to look very attentively at Erik.
Erik, who quickly moved to rummage through the basket underneath his lamp. Charles waited patiently, smiling widely when Erik looked up at him.
“Okay close his eyes!” Erik told him, so Charles did and didn’t even let himself peak through Erik’s eyes, waiting patiently and moving his hands when Erik shifted them. “Okay, you can open them up now.”
Charles blinked his eyes open to find that Erik was laying a very long scarf over Charles’ lap, made from a mixture of brilliant blues and pretty greens, looking like the paintings of the ocean they had in their house but out of wool instead of paint. It was so beautiful, and Charles’ fingers shook as he reached out to run them over the very soft fabric, absolutely terrified of doing something to ruin something so beautiful.
“So, what do you think?” There was something very nervous in Erik’s voice that he didn’t much like.
“Oh, this is lovely, Erik,” Charles told him seriously, looking very closely at the long trail of knitting and feeling it over with his fingers very carefully. The very last thing he needed to do was cause any damage. Charles didn't think that Erik would really want to be his friend for very long—none of the kids at school ever liked him for more than a few days because Charles was too weird—but hopefully he could make Erik want to be his friend for as long as possible as long as he was super careful.
Erik looked at him with something in his eyes that made Charles feel very important. “Really?”
“Really, really,” Charles confirmed, giving Erik a smile before going back to petting the scarf, really liking the way it felt against his fingers. “This is so soft! This,” Charles tapped on a line of knitting that didn’t look like the rest and made the whole thing look very interesting, “is amazing!”
“Thank you, Charles,” Erik told him shyly, ducking his head down. Charles smiled, swinging his legs a little and letting his feet bounce against the chair as he tried not to stare too much at Erik even though his cheeks were pink in a way that made him look even prettier than he always looked.
“You’re very talented,” Charles told him sincerely, reaching out and grabbing Erik’s hand to pull him up and onto the chair with him, both of them wiggling until they were each comfortably sitting together, which meant that their shoulders and their thighs were pressed right together. Charles forced himself to hold in a silly laugh, his heart beating very quickly as he asked, “Can I please watch you?”
“You want to watch me knit?” Erik asked him, with something disbelieving in his voice.
Charles nodded very quickly and assured him, “I would love to watch you knit, Erik!”
Erik beamed at him, before he darted forward very, very quickly to press a smacking kiss to Charles’ cheek, an action that made his whole belly feel very warm, and he smiled as he watched Erik lift the basket and right out from under the table it was under, all without getting up.