Work Text:
Charles was the first one to realize that there was more to his feelings towards Erik than just friendship and fondness. It took him a while but, in his defense, there were other matters for him to care about at that moment, like searching for mutants across the country and stopping a lunatic man from starting a new World War less than twenty years from the last one. When he did figure out, however, it was in a small hotel room that was being paid by the CIA for them as he had Charlotte Brönte's Jane Eyre in his hand and glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose.
The thought crossed his mind out of nowhere as he read the book, some situation there triggering a series of thoughts that led to his past experiences with dating, which led to how many years it had been since he had fallen in love, which made his mind leap to the subject of his feelings at that moment and finally to Erik. Sometimes he hated how much his mind could jump from thought to thought that easily, but at that moment he could just stare blankly at the words on the book and the fact that, yes, he had feelings for Erik that he hadn't realized before.
He gave the other man a tentative glance, almost paranoid that he had projected that thought and that Erik was able to read his mind, but Erik seemed calm as ever, even slightly bored, as he listened to some song playing on the radio that was placed between both of their beds. Erik was already in his sleeping clothes, hair slightly mussed as his head rested on his pillow, and his eyes were staring at the ceiling. Charles didn't try to look into his thoughts, but he could feel that they were weirdly calm considering that it was Erik there. He looked, in Charles' eyes, beautiful like that; calm and relaxed, almost different from the man who seemed to think that everything was a battle.
Of course, Erik ended up noticing Charles' eyes staring at him, turning his head to look at his friend with an eyebrow up, curious as to why he was being observed, and Charles froze for a moment.
Give him an excuse, Charles thought to himself, feeling like he didn't have a good enough excuse to be staring.
"You have auburn hair." You bloody idiot, Charles' mind screamed at him, but he kept going. "That's another mutation."
Erik frowned lightly at Charles after his words, clearly trying to understand what Charles wanted to say with this, but the telepath quickly turned his face to his book again as he tried not to hit himself in the face with it.
***
When Erik finally realized that he felt something deeper for Charles, they were almost at their last stop to recruit more mutants. Just like Charles, it happened in a small hotel room. Charles had apparently lost his sleeping shirt — the only one he had brought with him to this trip —, and was throwing all of his and Erik's clothes on the beds in search for it.
"I didn't lose it!" Charles tried to convince both himself and Erik of that while Erik only crossed his arms and watched the other man mess with both of their bags. "Maybe it's with you or I'm just not seeing it."
"Charles, I kept telling you to put it in your bag everyday and you always left it in the bathrooms of all of the hotels we've been on." Charles huffed at that, now looking between the two beds as he tried to spot the shirt, too stubborn to accept that Erik had been right all along and he had lost it. "You probably left it on the bathroom of the hotel on our last stop."
Charles sighed, probably accepting defeat and starting to fold the clothes he had threw around, starting with Erik's. His face still showed he was annoyed at that small inconvenience. Erik helped him fold both of their clothes again, taking one old shirt from his pile and throwing towards Charles, who caught it with a startled sound.
"I'll want my shirt back. Don't lose it."
Charles had looked at him for a minute too long before nodding and going to the bathroom to take a shower and change into his shorts and Erik's shirt. Erik really didn't think much of it when he handed his shirt over to the telepath, he never really had anyone to share clothes with but Charles was his friend and, as much as it wasn't really cold where they were, it wasn't warm enough for letting Charles sleep shirtless, and his button ups probably wouldn't be comfortable for that. But, when Charles left the bathroom with his hair slightly damp and his torso covered by Erik's shirt — which was a little bigger on Charles' shorter frame —, Erik had a moment where he was sure his brain stopped working.
It wasn't anything special, the shirt was just a grey one that Erik had had for years now and always carried with him because it was comfortable for sleeping in, but something about Charles wearing his clothes seemed like too much for him to deal with. He tried not to stare, sometimes shooting a few glances as Charles put his folded clothes back into his bag, and tried to get this out of his mind. It was just a shirt, and it was just Charles.
But, when the lights went off, Erik couldn't help but stare at a sleeping Charles, curled on the bed. His face was peaceful, hair tousled on the pillow beneath him, and with Erik's loose shirt against the pale skin of his body. He couldn't name what he felt as he watched the man sleep, but he knew it was something new, and that was slightly scary for him, but he had to admit that it felt good.
***
They only found out about the feelings that they had discovered on that trip on the very last day of it, and only because of a telepathic accident.
Charles ended up keeping Erik's shirt, which made him incredibly happy because he supposed Erik wasn't one to part with the things he had that easily, and yet, instead of buying a new shirt — which Charles was more than capable of doing —, Erik had allowed Charles to stick with that one with the condition that he wouldn't lose this one. And he wouldn't lose it, specially because Charles treated the clothing piece as if it was the most precious treasure he had ever had. He lost a cardigan a few days after losing his sleeping shirt, but Erik's shirt was safe with him.
The morning that they packed their bags again so they could leave to meet the mutants they successfully recruited back at the CIA base, Charles was wearing said shirt, face filled with pillow marks as he tried to stay awake so he could pack his bag properly. He had made the mistake of going to sleep too late the night before that, and now he was desperate for a few more hours of sleep. Thankfully, Erik wasn't making fun of him for his bad decisions that morning.
Unfortunately, when Charles was tired, his powers seemed to get out of control a little, and he could hear the minds of everyone that was at the hotel in the rooms next to them. Most of them were sleeping, so Charles kept hearing disconnected words and feelings, but some were planning what to have for breakfast, or wondering how long it would take them to go to the place they needed to, but one thought caught Charles' attention almost immediately when it made contact with Charles' mind.
It was an image of him, at that exact moment, face marked from his sleep and eyes half lidded as he tried to keep them fully open, his lips pouting like he always did in the mornings and his hair a complete mess. But, together with the image, there was a string of thoughts that said beautiful/might let him keep my shirt/what is this feeling?/his hair looks soft amongst other things that made Charles' eyes widen and his body fully wake up all at once as he realized that those thoughts came from Erik.
He turned his head to watch the other man, catching him staring, and noticing the curious look in his eyes as Charles seemed to be frozen with his face in surprise.
"You think I'm beautiful." Charles said, voice hoarse from disuse. Erik seemed to understand what had happened.
"No, I don't!" he denied, seeing Charles make an almost offended face for the lie. Erik seemed to think Charles was offended because of something else. "I mean. You're not ugly, I just don't- You're pleasing to look at. But not- I mean..."
"I'm pleasing to look at?" Charles questioned.
Erik's jaw clenched, Charles quickly catching the moment his mind turned defensive, probably thinking that Charles would be angry at him for thinking about Charles like that. Charles didn't want Erik to close himself from him, not when Erik seemed truly relaxed around him now after their trip, so he did what he thought would be the best course of action — and what his tired mind allowed him to think of —; he took the few steps that separated the both of them and placed a kiss on Erik's cheek, quick and chaste, only smiling sweetly at him after and going back to his bag. Erik froze, eyes wide as he watched Charles, mind loudly trying to understand what had just happened.
"So," Charles said, conversational, as if he hadn't just kissed Erik on the cheek. "you're letting me keep the shirt?"