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The warmth from the open fire envelops Charles in its shimmering embrace and he sinks further into his most comfortable reading chair. The whiskey burns a lovely trail all the way down to his stomach and the usually so boisterous school is almost completely quiet.
Tomorrow is Christmas Day and he is expected at Raven and Hank’s in the morning. It will be a day of presents, food, and merriment and Charles can’t wait. But before that he wants to indulge in a different way. He takes another healthy sip of whiskey and he closes his eyes.
– ** –
“What will you be doing for Christmas?” Charles asks and smiles across the table at the new boy.
“Nothing,” the lanky boy with the bright eyes answers with a bit of a frown.
“Oh?” Charles says, in what he hopes comes off as polite curiosity. “May I ask why?”
“I guess.” He shrugs. “I’m Jewish.”
“Oh!” Charles says. “Well then, what about Hanukkah?”
“My mom has sent me a menorah and some chocolate gelt. I’ll probably just light the candles and eat some of those.”
Charles smiles again. There is something about this boy that makes him want to know more. He knows not to read someone’s mind without their consent but Erik – the new boy’s – power is so strong that he doesn’t have to read him to know. He can feel it.
“Would you like some company?” he asks. “We could light the candles together.”
– ** –
All the memories rest so close to the surface that it is easy for him to pluck them out. All of them are shiny and soft around the edges because of how many times he has touched them and held them close.
– ** –
They are lying on their backs on Charles’ bed. They are close enough to touch but not close enough to be anything other than innocent.
“I’m going to England for Christmas break,” Charles says slowly. “I can’t say I want to but Mother and Kurt has made it abundantly clear that I have to join them.”
“I see,” Erik says and Charles can tell that he is disappointed but trying very hard not to let it show. A coin that spins carefully just above Erik’s hands start moving a little faster as he continues. “I’m going back to Brooklyn but only for a few days. My Ma has to work anyway, so there’s not really any reason for me to hang around there. Besides having this place all to myself will let me get ahead on some of the reading. And it will give me a chance to hone my powers without a bunch of people around to stare at me.”
Charles nods slowly. What Erik says makes sense but it still makes an ache in the far depths of his stomach grow a little bit bigger.
“I will give you a call on Christmas Eve,” he says, “so you won’t be all alone.”
“Thanks,” Erik says, looking briefly over at Charles before shifting his focus back onto the spinning coin.
– ** –
He will never forget Erik. And he knows that all he will ever have are the memories. Erik only stayed at Charles’ boarding school for a couple of years. He left when they were both 14 and Erik’s mom fell ill. He was Charles’ closest friend and yet Charles never told him that. There was a lot he never told Erik.
– ** –
Charles pinches the bridge of his nose as he gingerly steps inside Hank and Raven’s brownstone. He may have gone a bit too far last night and looked a little bit too deep into the bottle of whiskey.
“Charles!” Raven shouts, or says in a normal tone of voice, Charles can’t be certain. “There you are. Did you have a nice Christmas Eve?”
Charles gives her a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “I always do,” he says. “How was yours?”
“Busy,” Raven pouts, “next year, I’m making you host everyone, and I’ll just sit back and put my feet up.”
“It’s a plan,” Charles chuckles. “So, who’s coming today?”
“Oh, same as always, pretty much. Logan, Jean, Scott, Alex, Darwin. And I’ve invited the new guy at work. I don’t think he had anywhere else to go so I twisted his arm until he agreed to show up.”
“The more the merrier!” Charles laughs. He gives his sister another hug. “It’s what I love best about you, Raven,” he says, “you take in all the strays.”
“I learned from the best.”
– ** –
So far it is shaping up to be one of the best Christmas Days Charles has had in a long time. Logan and Scott hasn’t fought once. Hank has only droned on about four or five tedious subjects and his sister hasn’t tried to set him up with any eligible bachelors.
He wanders around, zigzagging between people on his way to the kitchen to refill his eggnog, listening to the soft notes of some old Christmas song he can’t remember the name of.
Lost in thought he almost crashes into Raven, who manages to throw an arm out and catch him before he faceplants onto the floor.
“You know,” she says, keeping one hand locked around Charles’ forearm, “once Magneto finally gets here you two really should talk. I think you’d really hit it off.”
He knew he spoke too soon.
“Raven, let me stop you right there,” Charles says, “I don’t need my sister to get me men. I can do that just as well all on my own.”
“Okay,” Raven laughs, “but don’t come back to me and beg for my advice once you’ve actually seen Magneto.”
Just as Charles is about to make a scathing retort about just how often he gets laid, the doorbell chimes.
“Speak of the devil. That must be him now,” Raven says and runs over to the door.
Something makes Charles follow her. There is something – something familiar – poking at the back of his mind.
The door opens and the voice that greets Raven is deep and smooth and oh so familiar. Somehow that makes his mind go blank. It can’t be.
Can it?
Raven has her arms around the source of the familiar voice, blocking him from Charles’ view. When she pulls back and turns around, Charles feels like he has been slapped across the face.
“Erik, this is my brother - “
“Charles?”
“Erik.”
He is taller. Broader. Older. And the suit he is wearing looks nothing like the school uniform Charles is used to seeing him in. But that is him. That is Charles’ Erik.
Every wire in his brain short circuits. Perhaps he gets possessed by a ghost of Christmas past. How else can he explain what happens next?
His feet move by lightning speed. The glass of eggnog falls to the floor and splatters all over Raven’s new cream-colored rug. He throws his arms around Erik’s shoulders and pulls him down. Their lips meet and for seconds. Minutes? Hours? Days? Time stands still.
He pulls back and draws a deep, gasping breath. “Oh god, Erik. I’m so sorry.”
For a second Erik doesn’t move. Then a small smile cracks his lips. He looks up, his gaze stopping on a small sprig of mistletoe just above the door.
“It’s tradition,” he says, shrugging. “It’s good to see you Charles. When Raven told me about her brother I wanted so much to believe it was really you.”
“It really is me,” Charles says, still in a daze.
“It really is you.”
Then Erik pulls him back against his broad chest and Charles travels back in time 20 years. And finally their lips meet again in a sweet kiss filled with years of longing and bursting with hope.