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Eye to Eye

Summary:

Erik wouldn't dare to hope that Charles would ever feel the same way about him but a late night conversation pushes repressed feelings to the surface and Erik finds himself very wrong indeed.

Notes:

My first real Cherik fic, it's honestly kinda chaste lol but I wanted to try my hand at it and I had a friend ask me to so here's a love confession or whatever you call it type of fic. Enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Charles tells him he's a good man but Erik doesn't think so. He knows better than that. He's twisted up inside and full of rage but he's started to like hearing the other man say it. When he does the words ring in his ears and for almost a second Erik imagines he could be what the other man believes he can be.

He won't be but a slim part of him wishes for it just the same. Imagines it in some parody of a normal life neither of them will ever know.

He likes it when the other man smiles and looks at him.

At first he hadn't known what to do with it. These looks and the smiles that follow, the way the man seemed so relaxed around him.

If he knew more perhaps he wouldn't have been so relaxed, he'd only gained a glimpse inside his head after all. The tip of the iceberg and Erik tells himself that if he ever saw more, Charles wouldn't look at him the way he does.

It makes him sometimes want to look at him the same way and he wonders inside if he is even capable of it.

When he thinks of warmth and love he can only hear dogs and bullets.

The last time he had been loved.

After the war. . . after the liberation they hadn't known what to do with him. A small group of children and no relatives to send them to.

He'd almost hated the children who's aunts or uncles had survived. The one's with family left.

After the war he'd felt detached from his own people. He was something other. . . something Schmidt had seen and he feared telling them.

Yet the anger had only festered and now he's a million miles away from where he started and Charles keeps looking at him like he's his best friend, like he's actually glad to see him and him. . . he can't help but look forward to the time spent with the other man.

"You know that worked really well." Charles says one evening after working with Hank. "I think the team is going to pull it together."

"They're still very young." Erik points out.

Charles shrugs and settles into an arm chair. "So are we."

Erik does not feel young.

He has not felt young in a very long time. "You're very confident in them." He say's, not feeling the same confidence. The others have tremendous powers, brilliant and blinding, wonders of nature but they're unpolished, they're still little more than children.

"I have to be." Charles say's, leaning towards him conspiratorially. "After all, if this works out we'll be a proper school. Can you imagine? Parents sending their children here. . . all varieties of mutation learning and excelling together!"

Erik catches himself smiling at the other man's enthusiasm. There's something so bright about Charles. Something that brings out a piece of him he thought once might have been missing.

"See, even you're thinking about it and you're a pessimist." Charles laughs.

"I'm a realist, Charles."

Charles laughs and pours them both drinks, their fingers touching for just a moment when he hands Erik his. "And that's semantics."

He sits back, still feeling the brush of skin on his finger despite the absence of a hand. It lingers in his mind even after he tries to dismiss it.

He's never met anyone like Charles and it has nothing to do with them both being Mutants. He's just never met someone who's mind could electrify his own so totally, who had vision and brilliance and a plan.

"You really believe that parents will send their children to us?" He asks, eyes on the fire.

Charles nods. "Of course, this is just the beginning. One day these halls will be filled with young Mutants. We're only going to increase in number."

"And you really believe the children will be spared the hatred of the world?"

Charles's brightness dims a moment but it's important he push him, important he bring some measure of reality to ground. "We'll just prove to the world what we can be first."

Erik does not agree.

The children should not have to prove themselves like that.

He also knows what happens when you play by the enemy's rules. When you look for compassion among people who have none.

"You don't believe it will work." Charles say's, some disappointment in his words.

He shrugs. "No but I do believe your halls will be full one day. As you said, we will only grown in number."

Charles see's a school, he see's an army.

It's unfortunate but it's reality.

It's what they have.

Charles however leans forward in his seat again and looks him in the eye. "I'll need teachers." He say's.

Erik almost laughs at the idea of himself in a classroom.

He remembers when he had to leave school and then after the war when they told him he had to go back.

He doesn't belong in a classroom.

"I'm serious." Charles say's.

He crosses his legs at the knee and humors him. "And what would I teach? Physical education? You've got Hank for that."

"Hank's a bit more than a P.E. teacher and anyway, you speak multiple languages and you've travelled. Your powers aside I'm sure you could find something."

Oh, he's sure he could but the idea is still amusing.

Erik actually tries to imagine what he could teach. Charles is right, damn him about the foreign language option but it still seems distant and idealistic but if that isn't what Charles is then he doesn't have another word for it and in all of his realism and pessimism he appreciates Charles's idealism.

"Trust me my friend, one day the world will know about us and when they do, you may be surprised by their reaction."

Charles has such optimism, he almost loves that about him and with a painful twinge wonders if that's what his heart is getting close to.

Dangerously close to.

He levitates the fire poker and stirs the logs around, making Charles laugh as he pours them a second drink and then they both settle back and the room becomes warm and orange.

He won't say it but he enjoys these moments and he does almost feel like an old school teacher.

He looks at Charles and wonders if any part of him senses how deep these feelings run beside him.

The man stay's out of his head.

It's respectful but he's never once forgotten that Charles could destroy his mind in an instant if the tables were turned.

"What are you thinking about?" The other man asks, leaning out of his chair to speak to him, eyes bright.

Erik only waves a hand. "The future and the past." Charles asks when he could just find out for himself.

The smile disappears but only slightly. "I'm glad you're here, Erik. I want to build this future with you. . ." He pauses. "I mean I want you to be part of it."

Erik wishes he hadn't revised his words. Just for a moment it was so very good to hear. "Of course I'll be here." He say's, not yet imagining what's to come. "These children can't be left to train themselves." It's light and joking but he does mean it.

Charles however nudges his chair closer and it's unnerving. "No, I do mean I want to build this with you. I've never met anyone. . ." He pauses, eyes searching the floor. Erik just listens. "I've never met anyone I thought I could build it with. Not like with you."

He doesn't believe Charles feels the same things he does.

Charles's mind is full of bright futures and the good in people.

He doesn't dare let the words effect him.

Instead he let's them almost hurt but Charles hasn't looked away and when he meets his eyes he actually entertains the idea that the other man could feel similarly. It makes him feel vulnerable and he hates it. He hates feeling so naked and open.

"I mean it. . . even if you don't feel the same way or. . . have other ideas. There's no one else I'd want. No one. I mean that, Erik."

Eyebrows raised, eyes earnest.

Erik could have wept to hear him say it but instead holds it in.

A hand on his arm then, a pounding in his ears.

"Erik is something wrong?" Charles asks and damn him he looks so utterly worried. "If I've said the wrong thing you can tell me."

The hand is still there and Erik licks his lips. "You haven't." He said. "But I do not think I can be the man you want me to be."

The smile returns. "You don't have to be. You just be the man you are."

His arm twitches under Charles's hand and the man gives it a squeeze.

"I mean it."

Erik is very still.

His heart is hammering and his mind is telling him to end this conversation. It's getting dangerously emotional.

"Are you alright?" Charles asks, eyes intense now.

He thinks of this man as innocent in a way, untouched by the evils of the world.

So unlike him.

"I'm-" He's never at a loss for words.

Something passes behind Charles's eyes and the man suddenly leans in and after a second Erik feels lips on his own.

His hand clenches around the arm of the chair but the kiss is soft and he doesn't pull away or kiss back.

After a moment Charles withdraws, taking his hand from his arm with him and putting it to his lips, eyes terribly sad. "I'm sorry." He say's. "Erik I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Erik curses himself.

Everything he had not let himself hope for and he hadn't kissed back.

He wonders for a brief moment of insanity if it even actually happened before he see's Charles's eyes and the hurt there.

Charles looks down and he hates himself.

"Don't be sorry." He hears himself say and Charles's eyes find his, some small spark of hope showing.

His own heart is pounding still and after a million years of debate he reaches out, hand to Charles's face and draws him back, kissing him this time and even if it's short and still a little awkward it feels so incredibly good. So very good to kiss and be kissed by someone who. . . who cares for him and whom he cares for in return.

It burns his mouth and brings him almost to tears so he has to end the kiss, too much emotion in his chest.

Charles smiles. "I didn't dare read your mind." He say's, voice soft. "Only to find out you'd never want me to do that. I was afraid."

Erik understands, chest tight.

He swallows and takes Charles's hand, the future uncertain.

"I've not once. . . I didn't entertain the thought that you would want to." He say's, struggling to admit something so close to his chest. He can feel every bone in the other man's hand and savors them.

Charles smiles almost sadly. "Can I do it again then?"

And this time Erik almost smiles, hands only a little clammy. "Please do." He whispers, feeling a hand on his own cheek and lips on his.

They're both glad the door is locked and even if there's a fight to come at least for a moment there is something good in their lives.

There's been precious good in his life so far but Erik is glad at least of this, glad he can feel these things and that someone could feel them in return.

They might not always agree but at least for now they're eye to eye.

Notes:

Thanks for reading!