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“Stay,” Charles had whispered to Erik as he stood up to get dressed and leave after their evening round of chess which turned into ‘ chess ’. The request stopped the man in his tracks and he turned to look at Charles, still stretched out, the blankets draped around him, half covering him. His hair was mused, sticking up at all angles, looking comfortable, thoroughly fucked, and a little tired.
Erik honestly couldn’t think of a single reason not to stay. He wanted to, he did. He was more than a little touch starved, after all, and loved every second of the closeness he and Charles had shared thus far.
The only problem was, that cuddling wasn’t something that came naturally to Erik. Charles seemed to be hands-on all the time with everyone. A pat on the back, a slap on the shoulder, a hand on someone’s hip as he slid by them. Erik was the opposite. If he had to pass someone he would go out of his way to make sure they didn’t so much as brush against each other. If someone went in to slap him on the back he would flinch away, or jump at the contact if he didn’t see it coming. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of a reason Charles would ask.
But still, the man hadn’t seemed to mind Erik being…well, Erik so far. Maybe this would be the same.
So, with a hesitant nod, he dropped his clothes back into a pile next to the bed, pulled back the covers, and slowly slid underneath them. He glanced at Charles before turning off the light next to the side of the bed he was on and then Charles turned off the other.
They were in bed together. It was all Erik could think about, as he was careful to stay on his side, a few inches between himself and Charles. It was rapidly warming up under the covers and, as much as Erik wanted to reach out for the other man, he couldn’t allow it. Instead, he curled in on his side, facing away from Charles, and closed his eyes, only after making sure he was taking up as little of the bed as possible.
Cuddling just wasn’t an option for Erik. Even right after he and Charles finished, he did what he could to put some space between them. Their fingers were laced together between them for a while, at Charles’s insistence, but that was the most Erik could do. It was hard enough to let himself go enough to enjoy sex with Charles. Anything more felt almost impossible.
No matter what, Erik associated touch with pain. It didn’t matter who it was coming from, he would flinch. No matter if it was Charles sliding an arm around him or reaching for his hand, he always waited for the pain to follow, breaking fingers, a crushing hug, fingers digging into his flesh possessively, the way Shaw’s hand. It never came, but Erik never stopped expecting either. It was as though his body had forgotten the way his mother would hug him as a child, or his father's hand on his shoulder, or ruffling his hair. All that remained were the memories of Shaw that had overwritten everything else. Gentle touches were a trick sent to lower his guards so the pain would hurt worse. Most of the time it was just outright hurt that found him at the hand of someone else, anyone.
But it was more than just fearing being hurt. He feared hurting Charles in return. His body had become nothing more than a weapon. He knew well how to kill someone, he knew he could do just that with his bare hands. He would not—could not—underestimate what he was capable of. There were times when he was convinced he didn’t know his own strength and he worried he would accidentally hurt Charles because of it, never on purpose but being unaware, not being careful enough, not calculating everything just right. To him, it felt like too much of a risk, no matter how slight. He constantly found himself treating Charles as though he was made of glass, something the other man was none too fond of, most of the time.
But now, he couldn’t help but fear hurting Charles in the middle of a nightmare if he dared fall asleep so close to someone else. Someone he loved and cared about as much as he did Charles. Even if he hadn't dared tell the man how he felt yet, and possibly never would.
Would it ever be possible to sleep in this bed with Charles mere inches away? No matter how much he wanted to, he knew he could never have the life he wanted. Not here, not with Charles. And, if not with Charles, then not with anyone. How could he, when he didn’t trust himself or couldn’t trust others?
He was unaware of how long he was laying there, his eyes closed, but carefully staying awake, thinking, spiraling deeper and deeper. It was a movement next to him that pulled him from his thoughts. Charles, next to him was shifting and Erik’s whole body tensed, just as Charles wrapped his arms around Erik from behind. There was no part of Charles that wasn’t pressed against Erik, arms clinging to him like a koala.
Erik was terrified if he moved slightly—a sudden breath even—that Charles would take it as him being uncomfortable and move. It was true, but it wasn’t at the same time. Erik wanted it. He wanted them to be this close. Closer, if possible. But he couldn’t calm the way his heart was beating, how tense he was. There were too many things that could go wrong but it felt right.
“Sleep, Erik,” Charles mumbled in a sleepy voice, near Erik’s ear and, whether it was the direct order, or having a telepath telling him what to do, or maybe just a projection of Charles’s own tiredness, Erik found himself waking up hours later, unaware he ever went to sleep to begin with.
It seemed to happen all at once, the way his eyes snapped open. A sudden realization of what had happened. He started to roll over onto his back only to realize Charles was still pressed against him, still mostly asleep.
“Charles,” He whispered, thinking they needed to discuss this, even if Erik didn’t really want to wake him. That was the only thing keeping him from yelling.
“Wha-?” Charles mumbled back, seeming a little awake, but begrudgingly so.
“Charles, did you make me sleep last night?” Erik asked and he wasn’t sure if he should be angry or not. There were too many thoughts and feelings going through him to know for certain.
Part of it was relief that no one was hurt. That Charles was still there, still cuddling him, and hadn’t run for it. But he was a little angry that Charles had used his powers on him without Erik knowing about it. Then again, he was a little impressed and proud as well. Conflicting all around.
“Yeah,” Charles replied, shifting, Erik was sad to note. At least, until Charles grabbed his arm and rolled him over onto his back, Charles plastered his naked body to Erik’s front so they were still lying together, cuddling. Only now, Charles was looking him in the eye, “I didn’t mean to, really. I was tired, you were thinking a lot. I only meant to make you a little more tired but I think I dragged you down with me. I’m sorry, my friend.” And then Charles’s head was lying against Erik’s chest.
“I should be mad,” Erik replied softly, his arm slowly moving around Charles’s back until his hand was resting on Charles’s shoulder, a loose hold on him. “But I think that…” He trailed off, unsure he could say the rest, even to Charles.
“First time you’ve slept through the night without nightmares in years?” Charles filled in for him and Erik was glad when the man didn’t move to look at him directly again.
“Yeah,” Erik whispered softly, able to admit to it once it was out there.
“We can work on it,” Charles assured him and then moved his head, just enough to press a kiss to Erik’s chest, right over his heart. “You’re not the only one that has nightmares, Erik. And you’re not the only one who wants this more than anything,” His hold on Erik tightened a little, indicating what he was talking about. “I told you, you’re not alone, my love, and I mean that.”