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Erik couldn’t place the feeling. A sort of pain in his chest every time he saw Charles or even dared to think about him. The first time it happened, he thought he was dying or something, a sharp physical pain that made him want to curl in on himself—or up around Charles—and hide from the world.
When it happened again and again, Erik began to decide it was just something that happened. Some kind of strange phenomenon that he had just previously never experienced. It didn’t seem worth it to mention it to anyone. If he was dying, he didn’t want to know about it and he certainly didn’t want anyone else to know. It was just one of those things that was better to keep as a secret.
But, as time went on, he began to realize that maybe it was something and not the nothing he was dismissing it as. All it took was one little mistake, an off-handed comment from a man they passed on the street where Erik threw a punch before he paused to consider what he was doing and then the man’s hand hit Charles instead of Erik.
The resulting anger was more than his normal amount. He finally started to understand what people meant when they said seeing red. In all his life, he couldn’t remember a time when he felt like this, anger and concern a strange mix inside of him. The desire to grab Charles and run away, shielding his body from the world but matched by his desire to stay and fight, murder the man who dared lay a hand against Charles. There was also a small hatred for himself, placing the blame since he was the one who threw the first punch.
With his hand up, he was a split second from letting loose another blow that Charles stopped with his powers. Not just Erik, but the other man as well, and anyone else who may have been witnessing the fight.
Erik’s arm was lowered, but not by his own decision, and then he was turned to face Charles who let go of him then. He couldn’t even bring himself to be angry at Charles for controlling him, but mostly because his attention was focused on Charles’s cheek which was bright red, seeming to start turning purple in places.
“We’re not doing this, Erik,” Charles said, sighing and gently touching a hand to his cheek before wincing. The annoyance at Erik starting a fight seemed to drain out of him, replaced by tiredness. “Can we just go back to the base?”
Erik nodded, thinking he had to examine the way he felt in this moment once they got back but, for now, there’s more than that on his mind. He moved closer to Charles, gently cupping his chin and tilting his head so he could get a better view of the bruise.
“You’ll need to get some ice for that when we get back,” He comments, gently brushing his thumb against Charles’s cheek before letting him go. “Come on, let’s get you back.”
The two of them walked together, side by side, on the way back to the base where they had been staying. Neither of them said anything, Erik’s mind was racing but he was doing his best to keep it quiet. He didn’t need Charles to know what was on his mind, not that he really had a reason. He wasn’t too sure what was on his mind at the moment. Scratch that, he knew what—or rather who— was on his mind, it was Charles, but he didn’t know why.
After a moment, he looked over at the other man, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” He commented, knowing that saying sorry wasn’t good enough in this situation. It wasn’t like it would un-punch Charles, if it would, he would’ve said something earlier.
Charles sighed and kept his eyes forward, even as he moved a little closer to Erik, their hands brushing together as they walked. “There’s a reason I don’t like violence and this is one of the reasons. Other people get hurt, and are pulled into the fight. But even then, it wasn’t like you meant for this to happen and you weren’t the one who punched me so it’s alright.”
A hand came out and patted Erik on the arm briefly and Erik felt his arm tingling for much longer than he should have after the contact. He felt himself craving it again a moment later, wanting more contact between himself and Charles but didn’t know how to go after it. Could he initiate something like that? He didn’t think so, he never had been one to initiate casual touches and doubted he could find a way now. He was much too stiff and uncertain when it came to physical contact, Charles made it look so easy but Erik was certain he would only make Charles uncomfortable if he threw his arm around the shorter man’s shoulders.
They didn’t talk again until they were back at the base and said a brief word to each other before they parted ways, Charles going to his room and Erik to his own. Only once the door was closed behind him did Erik dare think about what had happened and the feelings swirling through him.
Never before had he found someone he wanted to touch, to protect, to watch over. Even now, after spending all evening with Charles, Erik wanted to run over to his room and spend the night with him. It was like he couldn’t get enough of Charles and that was a foreign concept to Erik.
His chest was hurting again and he rubbed his hand over it as he stripped down and moved to lay down on his bed, pulling the covers over himself. He shivered a little, still cool, even with a blanket over him. It seemed strange that the next thought was wondering if Charles was cold too, if he needed another blanket or, perhaps, a body to keep him warm. Erik was certain he could do that much, and it would be a good excuse to share a bed.
If there wasn’t a spare blanket in both of their rooms, that is. It would never work, in reality, but Erik could happily use that as a good excuse to spend the night with the man he loved.
After Cuba, Charles thought the feelings would go away. The love he felt for Erik from the second Charles felt his mind in the water and learned everything there was to know about Erik Lehnsherr. Only to have that thrown back in his face once Shaw was dead and Erik left him lying there on the beach, bleeding out.
Alas, he was still just as madly in love as he was before. Madly meaning he was pissed off at it but in love all the same. He could punch Erik in the face, he knew, he was angry and couldn’t believe what had happened, but that didn’t change the way he felt. It only seemed to solidify that Erik was the one for him.
If anyone else had left him lying on the sand, paralyzed, with no way to safety, he would never want to see them again. But this was Erik and, if he walked through the door right now, asking for forgiveness, Charles would forgive him. Hell, even if he didn’t ask, Charles would forgive him. It was Erik after all.
As it was, he hadn’t seen the man in six months and, if he was honest, he wasn’t sure he would ever see him again. Maybe Erik wasn’t even alive anymore. Maybe he had been killed or maybe Erik really had been replaced by Magneto, he couldn’t let the idea of them being two completely separate beings go. Erik would never do the things Magneto had done, Erik was good, he was the better man. Magneto brought death and destruction.
But damn did he look good doing it.
Officially, Charles felt like he had lost his mind, lying in the bed, staring at the ceiling. He knew he should get up, should take a shower, get changed, and maybe find something to eat but he hadn’t been able to even move. The weight of everything that had happened kept him weighted down on the bed. Hank had been helping him since the incident, encouraging him when possible but often Charles didn’t want to hear it. This was going to be one of those days.
He was lying in a bed of his own filth, essentially, the sheets needed changed, washed, or maybe just thrown out after all this time. He was disgusting, his hair needed a cut, and he needed a shave. He felt disgusting but that wasn’t enough to make him move. Even the sound of his stomach growling wasn’t going to do it today. If he could sink back into the bed, melt into it, he would. That felt like a better option than facing the chair next to his bed and having to be a functional being for another day.
Everyone had left him, everyone but Hank who decided he was too blue and furry to be anywhere but hidden away in the mansion. The other man seemed to be convinced that Charles’s problem was rooted in Raven leaving him, and his little sister choosing Erik. Charles let him believe that because it was better than facing the fact that it was Erik leaving just as much—if not more—than Raven.
After everything, he was left here again, living in his own personal hell. He hated this mansion. It was always so quiet, so lonely to be in such a big house with just two people. Before it had been softened by Raven but now Charles doesn’t even have her. Just himself and Hank. It was almost worse than when he was little and it was him, Raven, his mother, and his stepfather and stepbrother. Of course, he did say almost, at least now Kurt and Cain weren’t around this time.
Charles heard creaking and rolled his head to the side to look at the door to his room before realizing that wasn’t where the sound had come from. He quickly whipped his head to the other side to see who had just come into his room through the window. Perhaps he should’ve known the answer before he looked, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe the only answer in his mind.
Of course, with the proof standing there, just inside his window, it was a lot harder to deny. Erik, a cape draped around him, the damn helmet covering his head, the reason Charles hadn’t realized he was coming at all. He despised that thing with everything in him.
It didn’t last long, Erik reached up slowly and lifted the helmet off his head, and then it was clattering to the floor. Slowly, Erik crossed the room until he was sitting down on the bed next to Charles, something that surprised him. The only thought going through his head was that Erik would get his cape dirty.
But then a hand was cupping his chin, a thumb brushing over his cheek. The past year melted away and it was just the two of them, Charles and Erik, left in the moment, looking at each other as though that was enough to clear the air between the two of them.
“What are you doing here?” Charles asked, his voice quiet and rough. He didn’t want to break the moment between them but he needed to know. Was this just his mind playing a prank on him or was this real? Was Erik just here to gawk at him or was it more than that?
“I was worried about you,” Erik whispered back, his voice sounding as strained as Charles’s own. “I hadn’t seen anything about you or heard from you since…that day. I needed to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” Charles managed to say, trying to make it sound more convincing than it was. Not that Erik was going to fall through that. Charles knew everything about Erik and Erik seemed to be able to see through Charles with ease.
“Yeah, you look fine," Erik replied, dryly. He looked at Charles for a moment and Charles said nothing. He could tell there was more, a hesitancy, something more that Erik was trying to brace himself to say and Charles wasn’t going to interrupt that process.
“I’ve been thinking,” Erik began slowly, his eyes moving over Charles’s body, refusing to hold his gaze. It made Charles a little uncomfortable but he refused to say anything. He knew Erik wasn’t judging him or anything, no matter how it felt. “That maybe there are other ways to do things than your way or my way. And, if you were interested, maybe we could come up with…our way. A middle ground.”
Charles looked at Erik, taking in the lines on his face, the small changes that had taken place in the last six months. It already felt like he didn’t know the man in front of him but there were bits of Erik peaking through the façade of Magneto. The man he loved was still in there, still within reach and Charles believed he could save him.
“What’s this about, Erik?” Charles asked, “What brought it on, and why now?” He needed to know before they did anything. If Erik was going to change his mind in the next day or week, he wanted to know it was coming beforehand. He wanted to be able to save his future self because he didn’t know if he would be able to survive losing Erik a second time.
“I…” Erik started to say, sounding so confident only to trail off without finishing. He seemed to lose his confidence and Charles merely raised an eyebrow, waiting, not going to step down from needing to know.
“I’ve realized some things,” Erik finally said. “That I…care about you and I worried, maybe more than I should have, when we weren’t together.” He sighed and then seemed to decide to switch his tactic, “It’s not like you're enforcing your beliefs right now. And I’m seeing very little change with mine. Maybe a mix between both of our ways will be the answer. It couldn’t hurt to try, could it?”
Charles looked at Erik, his eyes narrowing a little. Whatever this was, it felt just out of his reach. Something he knew about but couldn’t quite place. He watched Erik shifting under his gaze and then he realized, a small smile appearing for the first time in months.
“Erik,” He whispered, bringing a hand up, gently cupping Erik’s face, “I love you too.”
Erik looked at him with wide eyes for a moment but then seemed to calm down a little. He relaxed, into the hand on his face, pushing against it gently, but he said nothing, not denying or confirming what Charles was saying.
“If I’m going to stay,” He said instead, “We’re going to need to get you up. This room smells horrific. Honestly, Charles, why would you live in these conditions? When was the last time you ate? Or even showered? This simply won’t do.”
“You’re so high maintenance,” Charles said, lightly, amused by Erik. He should’ve realized Erik’s feelings sooner, the man always seemed to worry and care about him more than he ever did anyone else.
“I’m not high maintenance. I just think you should take care of yourself,” Erik replied, holding his hands out as he stood up from the bed.
Charles looked at him, feeling like this was one of the most difficult things to do in the world even if he knew it wasn’t. Slowly, he raised his hands, accepting Erik’s outstretched ones and slowly, he was pulled until he was sitting up on the bed.
Erik looked at him, a little uncertain, and then at the wheelchair. Even if he wasn’t telepathic, Charles could tell what was going through his mind, the silent question he wasn’t quite comfortable enough to ask. Charles decided to take pity on the man, “Just make sure the chair doesn’t move and I don’t fall to the floor."
Erik nodded and moved over to the chair, holding it in place. There may be breaks on the chair, but Charles didn’t always trust them. He knew how they worked and still every time he imagined the chair moving out from under him, leaving him on the ground feeling helpless.
With Erik holding the chair, Charles moved with a little less grace than he would have liked, situating himself in the wheelchair, positioning his feet up off the floor, and then sighing. He still wasn’t completely comfortable with this, not personally, and somehow he seemed to struggle even more with Erik as a witness, even if he knew the man wasn’t going to judge him or think less.
“Shower first? Or do you want to eat?” Erik asked, stepping around the chair to look down at Charles who was a little shocked. Most of the time if Hank was helping him he would just take off with Charles and the chair, something Charles had chastised him for time and time again. He was already preparing to do the same with Erik.
“Umm…either one,” Charles replied as he shook off his shock, looking up at Erik. He should’ve known Erik wouldn’t be like Hank. He had proven that often enough.
“If you want to go on and shower, I can go see what the options are and cook something for you?” Erik suggested and Charles smiled a little before nodding.
“I think that should work out. Do you mind getting me some clean clothes before you go?” Charles asked, starting on his way to the bathroom, leaving Erik behind. “Anything you want, darling.” He didn’t really care and the idea of starting to look seemed daunting. As it was, showering and eating was bad enough, he didn’t want to deal with the smaller details as well.
As though he understood, Erik said nothing but sat out to find clothes, bringing them into the bathroom for Charles once he had finished.
As Erik turned to leave, Charles reached out, grabbing his hand and stopping him. “Are you going to stay?" He asked. The goal had been to keep this a quiet desperation, not dare let Erik know what he was thinking and how hopeful he was. But he had kept it to himself just as long as he could. He needed to know. There was plenty they still needed to talk about but he couldn’t put this off anymore.
“Charles,” Erik started, looking down at him, the feeling was as clear in his eyes as it was in the flood of emotion Charles felt from him. A mix of sadness and love. “For as long as we work together, as long as you’re willing to try, I’ll be here.”
For Charles, that was more than enough. He let go of Erik’s hand, trusting the man to still be in the kitchen once he was finished with his shower. They’d find a way to work together. They had to, Charles wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive otherwise.