Chapter Text
Charles had had his worries about moving into a neighbourhood where he would be living door to door with people who might figure out what he was. However, staying at the old mansion had even less appeal - especially once Raven had moved out, insisting that she wanted to attend university in California.
It had been tempting to convince her to stay, but Charles knew her well enough that he could imagine it driving them much farther apart than the physical distance from Westchester to California would.
As it were, he had found a nice house in Scarsdale, moved in and found his time divided between the cycle of the moon, writing on his book and various articles - not to mention the whole new experience of people watching.
Due to his sensitive nose and ears, not to mention his telepathy, he had bordered on overloading the first few weeks. At least until he had finally found the balance that would allow for him to deal with all the new input. Compartmentalization was a beautiful thing when done right.
It didn't hurt that his neighbours were quite nice - especially the tall drink of water who would walk his doberman every morning before heading off to work. The doberman had initially been wary of Charles, but once it had realized that Charles was top dog and not a threat, it had started greeting him on the street. As had its owner.
Erik. With a sharp k at the end. Charles quite liked the crispness of the name. A good man, if Charles was to believe the chattery beast of a dog. And he was going to, because dogs rarely lied.
In the beginning, Erik had seemed a little standoffish, but according to Sherman, the doberman, he wasn't used to being around other people outside work. And actually, he was warming to Charles a lot faster than Sherman had seen him do with anyone else.
Sherman was a bit of a chatterbox, but Charles was interested enough to engage him in conversation when Erik wasn't looking. Erik merely thought Charles was good with dogs.
Normally, Charles wasn't all that interested in people - Raven had always joked that she was the only reason one couldn't call him a recluse. And with her gone it had probably been a real threat. What set Erik apart, however, was the fact that he smelled terribly good to Charles, who wasn't stupid. It wasn't just the general scent of a person, musky, a little bit of supposedly perfume free deodorant. If Charles was being honest with himself, it was the kind of scent that he would love to bury his nose in. Right there, where Erik's neck and jaw met.
He could have dived into Erik's mind and gauged if he would be open to Charles making a move, but he quite found he liked the slow burn of getting to know someone. He was also fast becoming addicted to Sherman's sharing of information.
Apparently, Erik liked to speak with Sherman. Sharing day-to-day going-ons at work, but also what he thought about Charles. And according to Sherman, Erik rarely spoke of people, so the doberman had taken notice when this had happened.
Through two months, Charles had taken to visiting Erik nearly every other night, playing chess with him, talking about literature and human rights, or rather, mutant rights - and much to Charles' delight, Erik had been completely open about his gift. Charles had shared his own, at least his telepathy and Erik had been impressed. Charles was still gearing up to sharing the 'other' gift with him. Baby steps, he kept telling himself.
Walking up to Erik's front door, he stopped, hand lifted to knock when Sherman trotted around the corner, tongue lolling and ears perked.
"Hello, Charles-alpha," Sherman greeted with his customary huffs-whines, "Erik-alpha is in the shower - he took me for a run-walk-fun-play in the park."
"Aren't you the lucky one," Charles said with a small laugh, letting Sherman nose at his hand. And the thought of Erik in the shower, washing off the lovely scent of sweat… he cleared his throat.
"You just have to ask him," Sherman said with another huff. "He was talking about how cute you were again today," he shared. "I do not understand human courtship. Anyone, even with a blocked nose, would be able to tell that you like him too."
"Well, yes," Charles said with a cough, feeling his face heat a little. "Human courtship does escape me as well. And I still haven't told him what I am."
Sherman sat down, looking a little confused. "Erik-alpha is very accepting of different-unusual."
"I gathered as much," Charles agreed, opening the door. "But it's a bit of a big thing to share."
"Hi, Charles," Erik said, rubbing his hair with a towel, the rest of his long, lean body, unfortunately encased in a loose fitting jogging suit. He had been heading through the hallway towards the kitchen. "I swear, some days I think you understand what Sherman says."
Charles opened his mouth to reply, knowing full well that Sherman's supportive woof was meant to spur him on to share that he did indeed understand and more importantly, the hows and whys of this ability.
"Is something wrong?" Erik asked when Charles failed to say anything.
"You should tell him, Charles-alpha," Sherman urged.
"Do you understand him?" Erik asked curiously. "A secondary mutation, maybe?"
"Not so much a secondary mutation," Charles said, making a face. "But I do get the gist of what he means."
Charles didn't miss the annoyed huff from Sherman when Erik merely shrugged and lead the way into the living room, Charles following behind.
"You should tell him, Charles-alpha," Sherman whined as he trotted after them.
Yeah, Charles was well aware that at some point Erik would probably find out and that might do more harm than good to their friendship. But for the time being, he wanted status quo - he wasn't ready to give someone else that much power of knowledge over him.
He was damned lucky that Erik didn't understand what Sherman was saying, though.