Work Text:
These meetings with the elected council of Genosha were tedious, but necessary, Erik had learned, to keep the island running smoothly. At least things were finally getting back on track, after the trauma and loss of a few months ago. Charles’s presence on the island had been a great help, and not just—as some people snickered—by keeping Erik in a good mood. But Charles wasn’t ready to actually join the council yet, still recovering from his own traumatic losses. He was waiting outside for Erik’s workday to end, clearly visible through one of Genosha’s few glass windows, in the wall of the Council Chamber.
Waiting, watching through the glass, and chewing on a pen. A metal pen.
The bastard.
A lot of things had changed, Erik reflected, since the day he met Charles—the first time he found himself caught in an electric-blue stare, feeling the warm brush against his mind of a man who cared about him for no reason Erik could fathom. Charles’s luscious hair was gone now. He dressed like an islander instead of a professor, his clothes designed for comfort and cool. Short sleeves showed off powerful arm muscles, built by the wheelchair he hadn’t needed when they met. But he still had those brilliant blue eyes, fixed on his through the glass, and the same soft, lovely, kissable mouth. Currently it was tilted in the same old insufferable smirk, as he twisted his tongue absently around the pen.
Haven’t you been in that meeting long enough? whispered a voice in his mind.
“Yes, I think that will do nicely,” Erik said, standing abruptly. The council members who had been speaking—bickering, rather—fell silent in surprise. “We’ll have to pick up with the rest of the agenda tomorrow. Dismissed.”
Without waiting for a response, he strode from the room, and passed Charles without a glance—only crooking his finger to bring the wheelchair gliding just above the ground behind him. Charles laughed merrily, dropping the pen, but Erik caught that with his powers, too. He had some ideas for that pen.
Their home wasn’t far from the Council Chamber, so Erik managed—with difficulty—to keep himself from even looking back at Charles until they reached it. At that point, he swept Charles through the door, closed it behind them, and dropped to his knees in front of the wheelchair.
You are so easy, Charles said smugly as their lips met.
Shut up and kiss me.
I am kissing you.
Not enough.
Charles laughed, a sensation like champagne bubbles in his mind, and kissed him harder, running fingers through Erik’s hair to cradle his head like it was Charles’s most precious possession. Still loving Erik for no reason Erik could fathom.
Some things never changed, and he hoped to God they never would.