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It started out simple, unnoticeable at best; small gestures here and there with no lasting implications of something deeper. For most who looked on, it seemed as the bond of a strong friendship; no hidden meanings behind the actions. Even to 28-year-old Charles Xavier, for all his genius intellect and high cognitive skills—oh, and not to mention telepathy—hadn't sensed anything out of the ordinary other than, well, Erik Lehnsherr being none other than Erik Lehnsherr. That being said, it was hard to get a lock on what the man was thinking anyways, even with telepathy.
It was a Friday morning the first time Charles noticed anything particularly different. The alarm clock next to his head read 9:00 AM before sounding noisily as he groaned, then tried to stuff his head underneath a pillow to block out the noise. All around him books with tabs and papers with highlighted information were littered. In fact, just before he was rudely awakened, he had been sleeping on one which read Genetics: The Fundamentals of Mutations 3rd Ed. The offending blare of the clock only got louder before he gracefully descended (read: slammed with no small amount of force) his hand onto the snooze button. There, that should do the trick. Satisfied, Charles snuggled deeper into his pillow, ready for sleep to come again.
There was snort heard from the door leading into his bedroom, then Charles could feel a familiar presence in his mind. Charles, wake up.
"No. Shut up, go away," he huffed, trying to ignore the other person in the room who dared to try and pull him from his well-deserved rest. You try pulling an all-nighter, only to go to bed at six in the morning. You wouldn't want to get up either.
"Yeah, but I’m not the one currently working on another one of his crazy theories,” Charles gave an irritated scoff but could hear the voice coming closer, “Time to get up, Charles. We can go get coffee too when you’re ready.”
Don’t you have a company to go and run, darling? You know, actual work, with actual pay and benefits instead of bothering me this early in the morning?
A hand tugged gently at his hair before he was washed in a sense of comforting affection. Slowly, Charles pushed himself up, leaning on his elbows before finally looking at the other person in his room. Erik stared back, his mouth lifted into a smirk that could only be described as amused and Charles had half a mind smack right off his face. If he had the energy for that.
“And here I thought I was getting paid to take care of you every day,” the hand resting on his head made a soothing path down his arm, “Now, come on. You’ll feel better once you have something warm in you.”
Charles gave a grin, “Alright, as long as it’s a nice, steaming, fresh cup of tea.”
“You and your God-awful tea,” Erik shook his head, retrieving his hand before exiting the room. Another bought of affection and warmth gently descended over Charles once again. Smiling, he paid no mind, and relished in it while he stretched out on his bed comfortably. It was finally Friday, meaning he had no classes, no meetings—no obligations what-so-ever—and he could relax the entire day.
Then he was rudely dragged by his metal watch out of bed.
***
A week later and Charles found himself once again lured out of his nice, warm bed by Erik with the promise of coffee. That and the fuzzy-warm-good feeling that keeps pushing into his mind lately may also have something to do with it. It was a curious development, though, only began to spring up recently (and quite frequently) and if Charles were to think on in, he might have noticed the link between the feeling and a certain metal bending friend. But that was a thought for a different day and he would not think about it now. Besides, he may or may not really enjoy the feeling.
It was a gorgeous day out and both he and Erik agreed to walk to a coffee shop situated only a few blocks from his apartment. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue and the morning sun felt incredibly nice on his skin as he walked. Taking a breather from his research and lectures and impossibly restless students every once in a while was nice and even more so with Erik. He closed his eyes, dragging in a lungful of air when he felt that cozy-warmness seep into him once more as he caught the tail end of a whispered thought.
—so beautiful.
He almost came to a complete stop.
Automatically, Charles turned to the man next time because he knows that voice in his head. Erik, however was still facing forward, the only difference a small smile gracing his lips, but acted as though he did not just think what he did. The pressure in his mind let up a smudge; not disappearing altogether, but instead settling down in the corner of his brain like it belonged there. Charles chose not to dwell and chose to talk to his friend alternatively.
“I must say, you are impeccably dressed for going out for coffee,” he gave the man next to him a playful smile, “All dressed up just for me, darling? Color me impressed.”
Erik took the jab in stride, having years dealt with Charles and his awful sense of humor, “I have a business meeting in an hour. An important one at that.”
“And here I thought it was because you know how much I love a well-dressed man,” Charles sighed theatrically, trying his best to sound utterly devastated, before receiving a light shove to his shoulder. In his fairness, Erik really did look a sight in a suit and tie.
Laughter started to bubble its way up as they both stepped through the coffee shop’s threshold. But I guess I’ll just have to wait until later. And he gave a wink.
Erik snorted but his lips threatened to break into a grin. And then it did. Then it was like Charles had been thoroughly gutted because he couldn’t stop the flow of emotions twisting inside him. He never used to think of his close friend like this; in a not friendly-but-much-more way. But, well, how could he not?
Then he remembers himself and remembers that Erik is indeed just that. A friend. Nothing more and he promptly shut those thoughts out as Erik’s phone went off in his pocket. The grin on his face was replaced with an irritated frown when looked at the screen, already stepping off to the side to answer it, “Azazel. What is it?” Sorry, got to take this.
Charles didn’t look put off. It’s alright. I’ll just get the drinks for us. Latte, medium, and an extra shot of espresso? (He didn’t need to ask, not really, he knew by now exactly how Erik likes his coffee.)
Erik sent a soft mental affirmation; a light and thankful nudge in his head before returning full attention to his phone call. Charles just quirked his lips and stepped up to the counter to order.
“Well if it isn’t Professor X,” the barista at the till acknowledged with a large smile, “Haven’t seen you ‘round here before.”
Charles returned it with one of his own, “Well if it isn’t Mr. Cassidy, and that’s probably because I just found out about this cozy little place only a few weeks ago.”
“Yeah, it’s great here, man,” Sean gave another easy grin, “So, what can I get you?”
Charles listed what he wanted while making small talk with his student before the two drinks were ready for them, “This place really is great, it makes really good tea and my friend even enjoys the coffee from here which is quite the feat.”
Sean offered both completed drinks to him before he replied, “Right? So much better than the sludge given at the student’s union.”
“Way better,” Charles laughed, “It was nice to see you, Sean.”
“Stop in again, Prof,” Sean waved back before Charles turned to look for Erik. He spotted him sitting at one of the tables with an annoyed expression that showed in his posture. Confused, he approached the other man holding out his drink as he sat in the open chair.
“Sorry, looks like I can’t stay,” Erik took the cup of coffee from his left hand, “the meeting is getting pushed up—to now.”
Ah, that’s what the cross look was for, “It’s okay. That’s the detriments of working in a high position, I suppose. What can you do?”
Charles hadn’t minded, truly. He understood, even if he was slightly disappointed but it wasn’t like he couldn’t get coffee with Erik any other time.
Erik only hummed in compliance before he said, “Dinner.”
Charles raised a brow, “What?”
“I’ll make it up to you with dinner. Tonight. My treat,” he continued, “Whatever you want.”
“Really, it’s okay, Erik,” Charles gave quick frown, brows creasing together, fingers curling around his drink, “We can go out for coffee together any other time.”
Then there was another wave of that warmth and affection that touched his mind.
“Around seven tonight, I should be done by then,” Erik grabbed hold of his free hand. Promise.
The pressure in his head didn’t let up, if not slightly increased which made him much more flexible, as he stared at the hand grasping his, “Well—” the hand on his gave a squeeze “—why not.”
“Good,” was all Erik said as he leaned over the table to press a kiss to the side of Charles’ face before getting up, “I’ll see you tonight?”
Charles nodded numbly as he watched the other man walk away, phone already out in his hand. Only when he was out of sight did Charles fully realize what just happened. Erik kissed him. Kissed him. Kissed him.
Granted it was only on the cheek, but still. What the inconceivable hell was that!
He slumped in his chair, glancing around the rest of the room around him. No one seemed to think anything was out of place other than Sean giving him a curious look. He sighed before exiting the place himself. He’ll deal with it later after he goes home, takes a shower and maybe sleep some more.
(After going out for an unusually silent dinner with Erik and then having drinks at a pub down the street, and having a great time, he eventually forgot it ever happened.)
***
And, really, he should have probably had an inkling on what was going by now. Or asked Erik about the whole kiss thing at least because that was not the end of it. Later, he would think back on it and might consider it to be only the beginning. For right now, though, he had bigger problems to worry about.
Maybe if it all would have happened in quick succession of each other, Charles would have figured it out a great deal of time sooner. Instead, he was left dealing with the aftermath of weeks, now turning into a month, of that insanely pleasant-good-warm pressure in his head and an unexplained kiss on his cheek to sort out. All while he tried to stub the ever growing feelings (and lust, but that’s always been there) he had for his best friend which, he thought, is rather hard when said man was giving him so much attention and affection.
Or maybe he just needed to get laid.
He let out a frustrated sigh before he completely folded over the table, grumbling as he went. There was a dull thunk as a tall glass of water and two white pills were set in front of him.
“Come on, take these. They’ll make you feel better,” Raven sat down across from, “Seriously, you’re starting to give me your headache.”
Charles shot her a dry look, “Glad to know you’re so concerned about my well-being, sister dearest.”
The look he received from Raven held no pretense of anything other than amusement on his behalf. Her smug smirk showed no sense of sympathy.
A quick frown and he shoved the bitter pills in his mouth, chasing them down with the water. He grimaced as the motion shot him with a wave of dizziness before he eyed Raven. Pray tell how I’m the one with a horrible hangover and not you?
“Because I wasn’t the one who downed an impressive amount of shots in record time,” she answered back, taking a sip from the mug in her hands, “and then proceed to drink even more after that.”
“Maybe so, but I do recall you drinking your fair share as well,” the mention of alcohol made his stomach lurch in an unpleasant way. And besides, it was in celebration of the semester coming to a close along with my best student graduating.
“Oh, please, even Hank didn’t drink that much and certainly didn’t out-drink everyone else at the bar.”
“That is because Hank doesn’t drink that much anyways,” Another wave of nausea passed through him, “Now, may we please refrain from mentioning alcohol for the next few hours?” Or ever?
Raven rolled her eyes, “Suck it up. It was your own fault anyways.”
Charles gave a groan in reply. While it was true he was enjoying the end of the spring semester and Hank’s graduation, it was not the only reason. Last night’s partying may or may not have had something to do with a certain metal controlling man. Who, apparently, has recently forgot all about his personal space issues as he has constantly been touching Charles and invading his bubble. All of which was definitely not helping his not-so-subtle, ever-growing attraction.
He let out another groan, pushing those thoughts from his head and instead asked, “How did I end up getting home last night?”
“Erik, of course. He called a cab for the both of you to ride home,” she paused for a moment, then looked around the apartment considering, “Though, I am surprised he didn’t stay over. I thought for sure he would be here this morning.”
“Why? Was he as inebriated as I was last night?” His eyebrows furrowed, “That doesn’t sound like Erik.”
“No but why wouldn’t he?”
Again, Charles was confused, “Possibly because he has to work today and he has his own place with all the necessities needed to get ready to go to said job.”
Raven simply lifted the mug to her mouth, humming in reply. There was a light cloud of confusion coming off her and he could sense something was off.
Immediately, Charles pressed further, “Did I do something last night?”
“Don’t you remember?”
“Not really, no,” he really hadn’t; it was all a little fuzzy. He could remember up until his second—or was it the third?—round of drinks.
“You don’t remember anything?” She set her mug down and leaned forward on her elbows towards Charles, “Like, at all?”
“I remember—” and what did he remember, really? He could remember enjoying himself with his friends, having a great time. He remembered Armando bartending with his easy smiles, sending drinks their way through the night and Hank getting loose enough to dance with Raven and Erik showing up during the halfway through the night and a body pressed against his and hands on his hips and swaying and lips and—and—
Charles looked up at his sister, eyes blown wide.
Shit. Shit shit shit. What did he do?
“Oh no. Oh no, no, no,” his voice trembled a bit, “Raven. Raven. Don’t tell me—don’t tell me I did—with Erik. What did I do?”
Throughout his internal and external panic attack, Raven remained stationary, one brow titled upward. Could she not see how badly he messed up? Because if he’s remembered correctly, he’s pretty damn sure he kissed Erik Lehnsherr last night. Erik-fucking-Lehnsherr. Erik-if-you-look-at-me-wrong-I’ll-skin- you-alive-fucking-Lehnsherr.
“Please, please tell I did not get handsy with Erik last night and kissed him!” On the mouth. In front of a whole bar full of people.
“Charles—”
“What will I do? I just,” by this point he was out of his chair, pacing around the kitchen, “Raven, what the hell is wrong with me? How will I face him? I ruined our friendship, didn’t I?” He did, he so totally did. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
“I don’t think—”
He continued on, “I definitely did! He’s never going to want to see me again!” What will I do if he doesn’t? This is so terrible—dumb—stupid—awful—
Raven watched as he internally rambled, hands roughly sorting through his hair, before she spoke clearly and loud, “Charles, I don’t get what the big deal is, I’m mean…”
She tapered off when Charles spoke out loud again, completely ignoring her.
“—and now he’s going to know about my feelings for him and—”
Suddenly her eyes were lit with realization and she slammed her open palm flat on the table. It rattled the drinks loudly, startling Charles with the resulting sounds. He turned to find her face was split into a wide, almost manic grin, her shoulders positively shaking.
“Oh. Oh. This is just rich,” she let out a boisterous laugh, her blue scales rippling in and out of existence, “Man, I can’t believe this. Oh—oh my God! No way, no freaking way!”
Tears were gathering in her eyes as she continued to tremble with laughter. Charles narrowed his eyes.
“Well, I’m glad one of us is finding my situation to be hilarious,” he shot an irritated look her way, “because I really don’t see how it is.”
“But it is,” she stopped laughing for only a moment to wipe away the unshed tears, gave him once glance before doubling over in laughter once again, “I just… I just can’t believe this! This is too good to be true! Erik. Poor, poor Erik.”
Charles, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out what she was talking about when, really, it should have been poor, poor Charles not Erik! Yet, his sister continued to laugh and laugh and laugh, only interrupted by her own segmented dialogue. It was only when she calmed down enough to speak in fully constructed sentences again that she decided it would be an appropriate time for her to leave (“Because I have to tell someone about this, Charles! It’s too good not to!”) then skipped out the door before Charles could demand an explanation out of her.
He was so fucked.
***
Charles never did actually talked to Erik about the kiss, the man acted like nothing out of the ordinary happened either and Charles assumed he was just taking pity on him by not mentioning it. Though they never talked about it, things started to change. If Charles thought Erik had been touchy-feely back then, he was at least fifty times worse now. No matter what or where they were, the metal controller always had to touch him in some way, whether it was a hand on his shoulder or an arm around his waist.
This was doing nothing to staunch his ever-present feelings and soon enough he wouldn’t be able to hide them from Erik.
So here he was now, on a couch in Erik’s living room underneath a blanket together. A movie was playing but he hardly paid any attention he drifted off, warm sensation coating his mind.
“Liebling.”
German. The word was German. There was only one man he knew who spoke German and that was Erik. The man he was currently lying on and he latched onto his mind for the meaning. Darling. Hadn’t been called that one before.
“Liebling, come on, the movie’s almost over. Let’s get you to bed,” the chest—Erik’s chest—rumbled as the words were said, “Come now, Schatz.”
His sleep-addled brain couldn’t be arsed to process the meaning for that one, content to continue dozing off in Erik’s arms.
He grumbled, “No. Stay right here. Comfy.”
Erik chuckled before he captured Charles’ chin, forcing him to wake up and look at him. “Maybe so, but I promise a bed would be much better.”
He didn’t make a move to get up, however, instead letting his hand wander to the side of Charles’ neck who blinked in reply. Charles turned to look at the screen, the action-thriller showing the hero getting the girl and saving the day. How terribly original.
Erik let out a chuckle, “You were the one who picked it out, Liebling.” Now, come on, up you get.
“The trailers for it looked so much better,” Charles mumbled before burrowing back into Erik’s warmth. Strange how he had gotten used to being so physically close together. Then again, as the hand at his waist rubbed circles into the skin there, maybe it wasn’t so strange. And staying right here is good enough for me. Now shh.
“We’re both going to wake up with sore backs if we do,” Erik said, moving to get up, “and not in a good way.”
Okay, if his head wasn’t so fogged up with sleep and a few glasses of wine, he might’ve thought Erik made a pass at him. As it was, it was more likely just a result of the combination of the two.
Erik made to push Charles up and continued, “Come now, my bed is a lot cozier than a couch.”
Charles made an irritated noise but did as he was told anyways. He stretched as Erik shut the movie off, letting himself be guided to Erik’s bedroom. He ungracefully landed face first onto the bed (which, admittedly was very comfortable). He heard the clang and shuffle of clothing as Erik changed out of his clothing and into nothing but a grey nightshirt and his boxers.
“Move over, you bed hog,” Erik said, then there was a tug on the metal of his belt, “and take these off, you’re going to get hot under the covers with them on.”
Charles rolled onto his side, “Since when did you become such a mother hen?”
“Since it became apparent you don’t know how to take care of yourself,” the man snorted, “which was when I met you.”
Bull. You could hardly take care of yourself back then either. Still, he complied with the request and got rid of his pants knowing he would sleep much better. He was passed a black shirt as he stripped off his button down. It was soft and only slightly too big for him after he slipped it on. When he was fully situated back in bed and under the covers, Erik shut the lights off with a lazy flick of his wrist.
This was where he should have been falling fast asleep for as tired as he was, but in the darkness of the room where he could hear the other man’s breath, he couldn’t have been more wide awake as he stared at the ceiling. He rolled onto his side, back facing his friend, and waited. He didn’t know how long he was like that, and was lightly drifting off when felt the bed dip right behind him. Arms snaked around his stomach and pulled tight against him.
Charles kept still as he was pressed against the hard lines of the body behind him. One hand slowly trailed its way up his side, shirt being dragged up as it made its way up. It dipped back down, fanning out over his stomach, lighting a spark under each fingertip and Charles found himself thinking of the way of the few glasses of wine he had earlier, still clouding his better judgment. The puffs of breath against his neck were hot.
He flipped around to face Erik, who stared back at him with determined eyes. He was jerked forward when both hands pressed firmly against his back. Their breaths mingled when he heard his name being called in a breathless, almost reverent way and hadn’t known if it was out loud or in his head before he closed his eyes and leaned forward. Charles supposed it didn’t matter, not when he finally got to kiss that mouth that wasn’t just a dream.
Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew this was all kinds of a bad idea; he shouldn’t be doing this with his best friend, but they were drowned out by Erik’s own thoughts of yes, good, want, more, Charles. He couldn’t find it in himself to stop now that he started anyways.
The kissing became rougher and suddenly Charles found himself being pulled on top of the other man, thighs splaying on either side of his hips. Any of his thoughts that were about Erik and more all but turned off and he was left with mindless, passionate actions.
Both men hissed as their arousals rubbed together. He might regret this in the morning—no, he would regret this but for now he would take what he could and worry about it later.
***
Morning did come and he did regret it, guilt churning over in his stomach as he picked up his clothes form the floor. His back held the kind of ache he would normally find pleasant, now it was just another factor to his guilt. He dressed quickly and quietly, glancing back at Erik’s slumbering form when he was finished. He could see bruise forming just under his jawline and neck, knowing he had some matching ones of his own on his the inside of his thighs.
“I’m a terrible, terrible friend, aren’t I?” He asked no one in particular. Doesn’t matter, it was true anyways.
The door closed with a soft click as he slipped out into the hall and walked away without a second look.
***
Now, see, the first thing he should have done was talk about it to Erik. From there, he would somehow convince Erik he didn’t mean anything by it; that he was a horrible, terrible person and apologize profusely. Then he’d salvage what he could of his broken heart and the inevitably ruined friendship after Erik would tell him to get out of his life forever.
Really, that’s what should have happened.
Instead, he took the coward’s way out and employed the silent treatment where he ignored every incoming phone call, texts, and visits from Erik. It was already going on for over a week now. Which, as he his phone lit up once again, was a lot harder than originally thought and he was starting to feel really guilty over it. He knows he and Erik should probably talk and doing this won’t get him anywhere. So here he was, hiding away in his office, organizing the last of his paperwork for the semester.
His phone buzzed and let out a sharp sound, indicating his missed call. He sighed.
“You should really talk to him, sugar,” a voice sounded, “He’s driving everyone in the department crazy. Or scaring them, really.”
Ah, yes, how rude of him to forget the ever lovely Emma Frost was here.
Emma raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. No need for sarcasm. And if I recall, you were the one who asked if I wanted to come visit for tea.
He sighed again and said, “I know and I’m terribly sorry, I was just…”
“Trying to make a feeble excuse to get away from Erik,” she brought her cup of tea up to her lips, “and I was conveniently there. I know how that goes.”
He opened his mouth to deny the accusation when Emma’s pointed look made him think otherwise. Resigned, he scrubbed at his faced, remembering about how he was going to finally talk to Erik, catching him on his way out of his office. Then he changed his mind at the last second and turned to the nearest familiar person, which happened to be Emma. He then proceeded to ask loudly if she would like to have tea over at his office before Erik could reach him.
“Yes, well, I suppose I really am sorry for that. Truly.” He really was, honestly.
Emma leaned back in the chair she was seated in and crossed her legs, folding her hand neatly in her lap. He never has any idea how she always looks so perfect and regal all the time. “It comes with the name but I would very much enjoy if you two imbeciles would talk. Preferably soon. The office is suffering because of it.”
“I always thought you rather liked it when Erik intimidates people.”
“Yes. Intimidate people, not completely scare the wits out of them. It’s not good for business when we have to assure our clients they’re not going to get their heads torn off by the scary metal controlling mutant,” she explained, then leaned forward towards the loveseat Charles was on, “And it certainly has not been good for my beauty routine. Erik’s being even more of a slave driver than usual.”
She had seemed a little tired earlier when he first saw her.
“Not to mention my mood.”
Now that he had definitely noticed.
“Sarcasm, sugar,” she reminded.
He sighed for what felt like the thousandth time in the past few weeks. Fretting made him slightly less-than-tolerable, especially when it involved Erik. “I just… I don’t know what to say to him and I don’t want to go into much detail but I did something… less than favorable.”
He twirled the pen in his hand, fidgeting in remembrance, and said, “Every time I work up the nerves to do something about it I suddenly freeze up at the last minute. I lose all the words I want to say.”
“Charles Xavier out of words to say? Never thought I’d see the day,” she stated drily, “but I believe you should talk to him, honestly, you’d be surprised on what he has to say about the issue.”
“And how exactly would you know that?” Charles asked, setting down his pen, “Hadn’t realized you two became such good friends in the past few weeks.” Whoops. There he goes again. Less-than-tolerable.
Thankfully Emma chose to ignore the jibe. She instead leveled him with a pointed look, tilting her head against her hand as she leaned against the armrest. Her perfectly stained red lips quirked up into a knowing smirk. “Hardly. Unlike you, sugar, I have any qualms on using the gifts given to me just for someone else’s peace of mind. You know, for a telepath of your caliber, your communication skills leave something to be desired.”
He didn’t give a reply, and instead ignored her by looking out the window. He heard Emma let out a huff then there was a rustle of clothing as she started to get up. “Honestly, men can be such staggering individuals. I almost feel sorry for Erik.”
“Hmm,” he made a non-committal noise, not making a comment back before turning to look at her again. He watched as she smoothing out her pristine clothing, heading for the door.
“I need to go now and try to catch up on some well-deserved rest. Thank you for the tea,” she cast him a sidelong glance, “and for heaven’s sake, go and talk to the man because both of you are clueless it seems. Hurry up too, I cannot take another intern breaking into tears again.”
Charles chuckled, “You’re welcome and it was nice talking to you.”
She closed the door behind her with a noise of affirmation and a silent nudge in his mind meaning you too. After he tailed her mind to the edge of the campus where a ride was waiting for her, he leaned his head back and let out a large breath. She was right about Erik, of course, and he knew he couldn’t keep up this avoidance act forever. He would have to talk to Erik at one point if not of his own volition then through other means, they did share many mutual friends. Or he would eventually come and bang down his door. That seemed much more likely.
He snickered to himself because he could definitely see his ill-tempered friend performing the act. Perhaps it will come to that, Charles mused, Erik’s face from earlier did not look happy what-so-ever when escaped with Emma in tow. He could picture it now: Erik and his anger demanding an explanation which Charles was reluctant to give. It would then quickly devolve into a yelling match after he would realize Charles’ feelings for his best friend.
He sighed once again and threw an arm over his eyes, slouching in the loveseat some more. This was quite a mess he had gotten himself into and, okay, he might’ve brought it on himself but, hey, nobody’s perfect, right?
He was slowly drifting off when his phone lit up and started to play a familiar ringtone. Quickly, he sat up to grab it, fingers lingering over screen. Charles hesitated, wondering if he should just let this go to voicemail as well. He drew in a deep breath and swiped to answer the call.
“Charles.” Relief. Frustration. Anger. Concern. He didn’t need to read the other man’s mind to know all these emotions were present in the tone of his voice.
Charles never did end up telling Erik the truth for when he was asked why the hell are you avoiding me, Charles replied with a vague answer of I’ve been busy with paperwork and research while apologizing continuously, chickening out once more. He didn’t know if Erik truly bought it or not, but he seemed to accept it nonetheless. Neither brought up the sex they had and Charles couldn’t have been more thankful.
After all, ignorance was bliss, was it not? He could live with never talking about it and so did Erik it seemed.
***
It was on a Wednesday evening when Charles fully realized what was going on; connected all the not-so-subtle dots in his head so to speak. Both he and Erik were walking, on there way back from the movie theater, when his hand was grabbed, fingers threading through his. He had come to accept and fully expect all the touches and bouts of affection given to him that soon he found it abnormal when he didn’t receive them that he started to seek them out. They sought each other out wherever they went, and neither were without the other for long. They ended up having sex. A lot.
With that thought, Charles stopped mid-sentence on his rant about the movie(“Really Erik, fire and explosions do not work like that and not to mention how dreadful the romantic subplot was.”), startled, hand slipping from his companion’s grasp.
“Oh, my God, Erik,” he was absolutely stunned.
Erik turned to face him, “What?”
“Oh. Oh. Oh, Erik.”
Erik stared at him in concern, “Charles, what’s the matter? Did you leave something at the theater? We can go back and grab.”
Then he was reaching out for Charles’ hand again, once more weaving their fingers together. Charles could only stare in bewilderment, “Erik. Erik. We’re going out—we’re dating!” We’re boyfriends!
And when exactly did that happen?
The concern faded into a slight expression of exasperation before Erik snorted, “Boyfriends? Really, Charles, are we in high school still?”
“But that’s what we are,” Charles exclaimed, a smile lighting up his face, “We’re going out on dates, and sleep over at each other’s places and wear each other’s clothes and we’re boyfriends!”
“Okay, fine, we’re boyfriends, but I don’t know why—” he broke himself off in understanding “—you absolute—! Of course we’re dating, we’ve been dating for months now! You’re telling me all this time you never realized that?”
“Well, we never really spoke on it,” Charles said, laughing when Erik looked at him in disbelief.
“You—you are the absolute worst telepath I’ve ever met.”
“It’s not like I went purposefully digging around in your head, I do have some respect for privacy,” he snorted, “and would you really go poking through a mind of person you thought only saw you as a friend with benefits.”
Many emotions ran across Erik’s face before settling into a bemused expression, “I swear, I don’t know why I even bother sometimes.”
Another grin broke out on Charles’ face, laughing as he started walking again, swinging their clasped hands between them. He drew them close together, latching onto the other man’s arm with glee.
“Because you love me.” And it was true, he could put a name to the feeling in his head now.
Erik let out an irritated humming sound but didn’t correct him, instead he drew Charles up into a rather impressive kiss. I do. I really do.
When they broke apart, Charles gave a cheeky grin. “Now I know why everyone kept laughing at me whenever I mentioned you. And why Raven hit me the one time I mentioned needing to get laid at a club.”
It probably should have taken a lot less time to figure it out, but it doesn’t really matter in the end, they ended up here anyways; the results of all those months just as fantastic and he wouldn’t trade any of it for a do over.
And that’s the trouble with communication: sometimes you don’t need it. And sometimes it all turns out just as perfect anyways.