Work Text:
Charles has been sitting in the staff room for maybe a minute before he hears the fast-paced clicking of Emma’s heels against the hard oak of the library floors. Charles slumps his arms on the table and uses them as a headrest, resisting the urge to scream into the cheap plastic. Emma has her own office, so she never comes into the staff room unless it was an emergency. And emergencies usually meant Erik made someone uncomfortable, or cry, or puke, or file a complaint for looking broody and evil. And Charles is usually (always) the one who has to deal with it.
“Charles, your little demon made another person whine to me.” Emma, their manager, announces while strutting in. “Go clean up his mess.”
“Really?” Charles whines, refusing to part from the coffee machine. “I haven't even eaten lunch…”
Charles began working at the library in his first year of university, hired for his genuine love of books and angelic manners. All was well, until some person began to hoard the entirety of the architecture section on the third floor, scaring away all library-goers in the vicinity. Charles, being the embodiment of kindness, decided for the sake of the library it was best to meet this person and convince them to either play nice or kick them out. The result was about the same as getting suckered into adopting a dog. Which turned into his boyfriend. His big, mean, scary, six-foot, German boyfriend who will literally maul anyone who is not Charles.
“Just go fix it.” Emma's exasperation shines through.
“Can’t I get my coffee first?” Charles makes some weak attempt at flailing his arms in the general direction of the coffee maker, already knowing that Emma will say no.
“No. You can get it later.” Emma snaps.
Charles screams just a bit into the shitty plastic circle with half rusted legs they dare call a table before dragging himself up in a coffee-withdrawn huff and stomping off to the stairs, ready to pummel Erik.
+++
One scolding— the Charles equivalent of pummeling— later, Charles is back in the tiny staff room, happily sipping on his cheap, sugar-filled coffee. Azazel is next to him, reading some comic book and munching on hot Cheetos, actively staining the table bright red. How this guy got a job at the library with those dirty mitts is a mystery to Charles. His disgusting Cheeto fingers would contaminate all the book spines and the library labels. Wait.
“Hey Azazel, how much work would it take to get a plaque installed in the library?” Charles tentatively asks.
“Not much. Emma would probably ok anything you suggest as long as it doesn’t damage shit.” Azazel responds, still shoving fistfuls of Cheetos into his mouth.
“What if we got a plaque for the architecture section forewarning people of Erik? Like a warning label.” Charles suggests. “Hung up on the wall. Or something.”
Charles has never seen nor heard someone laugh as hard as Azazel is at this very moment in his entire life. Any more and he thinks Azazel would be drooling red Cheeto spit off the side of his lips and onto the table. “You want a sign. To warn people. Like Erik’s a dog? Oh my god. This is the best. Idea. Ever. Tell Emma now. She’ll ok you in like. Two seconds. “ Azazel chokes out in between choppy breaths. “What are you sittin’ here for? Go! Do it!”
Azazel half-hustles half-shoves Charles out of the lounge, using his nasty hands as an advantage. “And don’t come back until you got that plaque!” He whisper shouts (this is a library after all) as he squeaks the door shut.
“Didn't even get to lunch.” Charles grumbles.
+++
“Emma. May I suggest something to you?” Charles peeks into Emma’s office, aware of her personal space.
“Come in.” Emma thoughtlessly waves him in.
“Well, I was thinking we could get a sign for the Architecture section.” Charles suggests.
“For what?” Emma’s beautifully shaped eyebrow rises by a centimeter.
“To warn people.. About Erik.” Charles slips out. He thought of it as a joke, but now it just might become reality. Emma sure has the humor for it.
Emma stares at Charles for an eternity. Her crystal blue eyes mentally gut Charles like a fish, who hopelessly stands there in waiting. Charles is about to excuse himself in shame when Emma jerks herself up, rushes over to Charles, takes his cheeks into her palms, and kisses his forehead in one fell swoop. “I have never been so proud than at this very moment to have hired you. Take all the money you need. I want to see this sign by tomorrow.”
“A-alright?” Charles stammers before being ushered out of her office by too kind hands. He thinks Emma actually genuinely grins at him as the door's shut.
“I’m going to pay Alex a visit Emma!” Charles half yells at the door, thankful that nobody’s around to see this foolishness.
“Yes darling, you’re free to go! You have the rest of the day off!” Emma practically sings back. Creepy.
+++
As Charles absentmindedly shuffles over to Alex’s little club he mulls over the sign in question. Should it be a plaque, matching the library ones, or a full blown metal sign, red words and all? Should it be noticeable, a big ‘DON’T COME NEAR’ sign literally hanging over Erik’s head, or subtle, a sign that forces a double take? Maybe a mugshot, if that’s not too much work. Then again, he needs a design that will stay on the wall. It would do no good if Erik just ripped it off of the wall and melted it with the heat of the anger that courses through his bare hands. The more he thinks about it, the more ridiculous it becomes. That same ridiculousness drives him to further meticulously prep this brilliant idea into the perfect prank on Erik. Emma has given him the perfect opportunity to mess around, and he shall not squander it.
Before he knows it, he’s already reached his destination. Charles raps his hand against the Wood and Metalworks club room— how Alex got the members and the pass from the school council still befuddles him— and waits for Sean to open the door. Sean always opens the door. The only thing he does in the club is eat everyone’s food and make tin foil origami. Though Charles has seen him make a metal deer once (for his mom, how sweet) and it looked amazing. The door swings wide open, revealing the mussy-headed Sean with a smile to match.
“Hey Charles!” Sean greets.
“Hello Sean, is Alex here?” Charles asks. “You don’t have to actually answer that, it was for formalities. I know he’s here.”
“Yea, he’s at the laser cutter.” Sean points to the corner to his back with his thumb.
“Thanks. Here, candy.” Charles absently hands a small packet of Swedish Fish to an ecstatic Sean as he makes his way over to Alex.
Alex is about finished cutting into some piece of wood when Charles arrives, hands in his pockets and shifting between the balls and the heel of his feet. Alex pulls down his safety goggles to his neck and blinks twice before peering up at Charles with a grin that Charles returns.
“Here to finally tell me Erik wants in on the club?” Alex starts, already beginning to roll his eyes. “I swear the only reason he refuses to join and make love to his precious metals is because I thought of the idea before him. And had friends to join. Asshole.”
“No, he’s still as stubborn as ever.” Charles shakes his head, “I’m here to ask you for a favor.”
Alex cocks his head to the side, grin as strong as ever, arms pressed against the table. “Well, what is it?”
“Can you make me a sign that vaguely reminds you of a warning sign for dogs except for Erik and his damned Architecture territory?” Charles locks eyes with Alex, an unspoken degree of seriousness swimming through the air. If Alex was deaf and an apprentice lip reader he’d think Charles just asked him to assassinate Erik and cut his body into itty bitty bits and toss them into the ocean. “I want ‘DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT ASSISTANCE’ on it. Wood base, cast bronze with micro glitter. Raised letters and borders. Make it stand out. Maybe put his face on it. And I need it by tomorrow morning or else Emma will be disappointed and that is good for nobody. Ever. Yes?”
“Uh… I can’t carve his face that fast, but hey, I can do everything else with Sean and Darwin. I’ll even install it in the morning.” Alex shrugs, face smug with confidence. “We have enough to make it lying around, but give us fifty bucks anyways and tell Emma it’s for the thing. We want beer.”
“That, I can do.” Charles beams. “You have a deal.”
+++
Charles is camping out on the living room sofa (even though he has a room) in his little nest of paperwork, busy scribbling down homework answers when Erik’s finally home from the university. Charles, still eager for whats to come, greets Erik with a smidge too much enthusiasm, raising Erik’s ‘weird vibe’ flags.
“Long night at the drawing board? It’s 10 already, I hope you ate dinner.” Charles sings, pen flying over his paper. The bed of his mind tells him he sounds like a mom, a give away for an out of the ordinary mood. Well, it's not like he can keep his excitement away from Erik's knowing eyes.
“Yea. New house design for another project. What’s with you?” Erik grumbles, kicking off his shoes into the poor corner. “You’re extra sunny. Like someone didn’t follow the recipe and made you with a tablespoon too much sugar.”
“That’s sweet. I think.” Charles hums in return, haphazardly circling and highlighting his notes. “And it’s nothing, just a good mood.”
“Whatever.” Erik's obviously too tired to question Charles any further and instead opts to give Charles a peck on the lips in a truly ‘happily married with two children and a dog’ manner before he trudges to his room and promptly slams the door shut, not taking another glance at his little angel. “I’m gonna sleep, don’t bother waking me up. Unless you wanna fuck. Then do wake me up. Otherwise, I don’t give if Obama personally requests my audience to discuss the beginning of WWIII, I make love to my mattress.” He hollers through the door.
“Understood, my love. Good night.”
“Night, liebling.”
The thump of Erik’s body hitting his bed is in sync with the vibration of Charles’s phone, indicating a new text message.
Alex S.: ‘CHECK IT!! >:)))’
Attached to the text is a beautifully made embellished plaque that would be fitting of the white house if not for the text upon it. Charles muffles his giggles into a pillow and lets his phone hit the carpet as laughter racks through his body. It's even more beautiful than he imagined.
+++
“You’re acting weird.” Erik grunts, starting the car with an unneeded amount of force.
“Am not!” Charles whines. “What do you mean?”
“You hate the mornings. The amount of grump you put out every single morning could damper the mood of the Queen.” Erik rambles, “You never function properly without your morning cup of coffee and our machine’s been broken for a week. Unless you’re actually an alien or a machine pretending to be Charles and doing a piss poor job, there’s no way you’re actually this ecstatic about going to the library. Even if you do love being there.”
“Just shut up and drive already, would you?” Charles rolls his eyes, graciously avoiding the discussion about the sudden source of his happiness. To cement this in, he pulls Erik over for a kiss or five. That effectively ruins Erik’s capacity to speak for the entirety of the car ride.
+++
“What the fuck is this.” Erik leers at the brand spanking new sign perfectly screwed into the first bookshelf of the Architecture section. Charles cautiously places himself a few shelves away from Erik, pretending to re-shelf some books from his break yesterday. Emma has taken the time out of her schedule to witness this amazing scene and is front and center at the nearest table possible. Azazel is blatantly staring at Erik past a bookshelf in anticipation, one hand down yet another bag of Cheetos.
“Charles.” Erik grinds his teeth together. The third flood is so silent you could hear the first years panic breathing in the corner.
“Yes, love?” Charles hums, cautiously avoiding Erik’s gaze.
“What the fuck is this.” Erik repeats through gritted teeth.
"I don't know what you're referring to." Charles responds with innocence.
Even Emma is concerned for Charles's well-being with the tone of Erik's voice. "I'm talking about this piece of shit stuck to the bookshelf where I sit."
Charles places his books back on the cart with a sigh before skipping over. “It’s a sign, you dummy. Warning people of you and your nasty attitude.” He looks Erik straight in the eye, and some drama loving freshman gasps in the back. The crumple of the Cheeto bag could be heard from a mile away.
“Yea, no shit. But why the fuck does it exist ?” Erik scowls right back.
“How else am I going to periodically visit you for kisses while at work?” Charles grins in victory, hands on his hips and head tilted up with success.
“Oh.” Erik half stammers. He catches himself and manages to put on a smirk. “You got me.”
“I know.” Charles hums as Erik gives him a big, fat, rom-com quality, chick-flick worthy, grammy winning, kiss. Emma and Azazel turn away in disgust.
+++
Erik has never complained about the sign after that.