charles francis xavier

God, that had been an entirely different life- every aspect of who the both of them had been had changed so drastically in the years since, it almost put a tremor in his hands. Still, he wanted to get out of the house. Well— he needed to, really. David had gone with the twins to spend the day at the pool at his behest, and he’d told the boy that he’d leave the house, too, if his son would. And- though he didn’t want to tell this to Erik- it felt a bit like this could be some exposure therapy.

Because he hadn’t been working, he hadn’t been entrenched in fossils or dinosaurs since the accident and when he did think about them, see them in books or on a screen or in the form of a nugget… he felt that sinking feeling in his stomach, he felt the muscles in his back and in his abdomen tense up. It wasn’t fun and it certainly wasn’t sustainable. He had to face this, and facing it meant fossils before the living, breathing things back in Costa Rica.

“Anyway, you know dinosaurs are always business and pleasure, Erik.”

He also knew the student he had just run into. The school wasn’t that big, and they had run into each other more than a few times on Campus. A shared class or two over the years, but never anything that made them very close. Still, Erik knew him. 

“Xavier?” He said, eyes narrowing at the apologist as he rubbed his chin, which had smacked right into Charles. “Damn. No wonder I didn’t see you, shorty,” It wasn’t so much teasing as played straight and dry. He was wiping at his clothes, as if they had tumbled on the ground or something, and straightening his leather jacket. “I’m fine, man, you okay? Probably need to watch where you’re going next time, pal.” Because of course he wasn’t going to take the blame for this. He snorted with repressed laughter. 

Charles frowned a bit when laughed at, as if he couldn't curse. He could curse, Erik Lehnsherr! He could curse up a storm, he just didn't like to when it wasn't... it doesn't matter. Whatever! Charles just rolled his eyes instead of taking the bait- but then looked at the taller boy with those big cow eyes. Was rolling his eyes a bad move? He hoped not. He hoped they could stay neutral.

Boy, you thought he was flustered before?

And then Erik made a bigger mistake. He took Charles' book.

legman-lensherr:

With that, he couldn’t resist. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. What was the point? For a brief, shameful moment, he longed for the helmet—to cut Charles out, to have his head to himself again, but no, there was something so wonderful about the trust, the sharing of their minds, and in this case, their bodies. Charles had sworn before he wouldn’t come back in. Somehow, he had. Somehow, it was a sliver of what they had had before, the good of it, and he didn’t want to end that. He didn’t want to risk that, not now. If it was on his own terms, Erik could agree with it. He just liked to have a say of when, where, and how. This…this was good. This was okay. He wasn’t alone, now, here, with Charles in his mind. 

And, as said, he couldn’t resist. 

He kissed Charles, at first it was soft, searching, almost chaste, but quickly, feeling the heat light up in his own lips at the contact, the strange feedback they had going on, he kissed him again, deeper, more eager, even maybe a little desperate to express with his mouth what Charles could already feel in Erik’s mind. 

He knew what was coming before it was there, his body and mind were more than willing to accept whatever it was Erik was going to give. It was a start, this was a start and he knew that to make it work he had to trust the other. It would take time, of course, to fully trust him again but…it was a start. And he was ready to start the healing process, whatever that entailed. Erik was sorry for what had happened, he knew that. The tear was beginning to mend. 

Propping himself up on his elbows, ironically to limit any tension or pain to Erik’s back, Charles gave into the kiss. And it was good. It was good to have this connection again, to have it back with anyone– but especially with Erik. It was hopeless to deny, Charles was, would be, and always has been in love with Erik. Since he found this amazing fool half drowned in the ocean, attempting to raise a submarine. He’d loved him for their midday chess games outside the Lincoln memorial, loved him for their long conversations on the road and in the mansion. He’d loved him through Cuba, through his abandonment, through his solo rehabilitation– try as he might not to.

So having him back again? Like this? Closest to heaven that he’d ever been.

The massage was either the best idea, or the worst idea. 

He would think on that in the morning.

For now, it didn’t matter. For now, all that mattered was Charles’ mouth, slanted against his, like old times. The heat building, the tension melting, more so than both of their hands could provide. 

It was so easy to fall back into, that it must have been disastrous. But he didn’t care. Not now, and he may not ever. 

Erik moved, moving Charles with him, laying them across the bed in a more comfortable position. He was conscious of Charles’ legs, but not hindered by them. He was careful, but not insulting. It was just another thing to work through. They would work through it. They had worked through lesser things. 

Their connection was broken by the time Erik repositioned them on the bed, those pins and needles leaving Erik's legs and those knots and tension leaving his back and neck in a split second. Clearly, he'd gotten the other a bit distracted. Good job.

legman-lensherr:

He had been ready to let go, to take his place at Charles’ side, stoic, one hand in his pocket, the other perhaps laying on the back of the chair, but no—Charles held on to his hand. Oh, a public display, then? Well, he wouldn’t be able to deny him that, with it being Valentine’s Day and all. It wouldn’t really matter tonight, would it? It was worth it, to forget all of their differences, and to see that smile on Charles’ face. Holding hands in public, what a few people thought, that wouldn’t matter…

It didn’t. 

The restaurant was empty, except for candles and a full table sat for them. Of course, there were waitstaff and cooks somewhere, or this would be pointless, but…”Ah, the benefits of privilege,” He teased, because if he didn’t tease, or say something, Charles would think it odd. “But, really Charles this is….this is lovely.” He gave his hand a squeeze, looking around the empty restaurant. It was more lavish than he would have dreamed of as a child. Definitely more than he could have done for anyone he cared about. How did he get so lucky to know such a man as Xavier? “I think this privacy is…just what we need tonight.” 

Charles looked up at Erik when they walked in to the empty hall, a mixture of glee and anticipation on his face. The response, the teasing, was exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for. Well, one of them. Furious make outs would work as well, or that big toothy grin he loved so much…but teasing worked too. As long as Erik was happy.

“One of the benefits indeed…” it was more mumbled, privilege was not always a positive in Charles’ life– after all that had happened. Though he’d survived, and the remnants of his broken childhood had managed to create- really- quite a beautiful mosaic. Still, his smile persisted. Erik was pleased. Charles couldn’t be happier about that. “I’m glad you enjoy it, and I couldn’t agree more. Come on then! Chop chop, let’s get to our table, then.” 

Hand still interlocked with Erik’s, he used his other hand, his free hand, to push himself along, using Erik on the other side as a stabilizer.

With them, it could have gone either way. Yet Erik knew, on a holiday, that he was to be on his best behavior. If something meant this much to Charles, he was going to appreciate it. He wasn’t feeling surly, anyway. They had been getting along well. It was a strangely pleasant turn of events. He would enjoy it. 

“I always knew you had too much money to know what to do with, but buying out restaurants, really Xavier…” Another good-hearted tease with a big grin. He would have to play to Charles. It was part of who they were. There was more beneath the surface in that, but they would not dwell. Erik wouldn’t let him. He had done this, after all. He wasn’t going to be a spoilsport. This wasn’t about the past. It was about them, now.

After such a scavenger hunt to get here, it was worth it. 

The server gave a small bow and returned to the kitchen, their silence could have been seen as odd but if Erik were perceptive he'd have seen the slits along the young adult's neck- almost like gills.

At that, he gave every one of his chess pieces a shake, as if to prove that was what he meant. It had been difficult at first, to accept Charles in his mind. Now he opened to him fully, as if it were second nature. Behind his eyes, he saw the board, and Charles’ first move. His friend favored the rook, so Erik moved a pawn, easily feeling it through the wall with his powers. The tone of the game could be set with the next move. 

Oh, yes, I'm sure that sister of mine has divulged a great many of my secrets to you. There wasn't any ill will in his thoughts, though. It seemed he found it to be amusing. Why shouldn't Erik know what Charles liked? Likes. He wasn't ashamed of having fun.

Another small, seemingly inconsequential move on Charles' side, giving Erik a little mental nudge to let him know that it was his turn. It was true, he was playing the long game but that didn't mean he wanted to lose the long game... It was an 'inconsequential' move for now, but it could set him up for more down the line.

He took a few extra minutes, shutting down the legs of the tripod, making sure the lens was clean before he put the cap on. He closed the window, flipped things off, and general stalled…

And was rewarded, because as he was putting the camera up, the Bachelor was looking at him. Smiling, if a bit shyly. 

He wasn’t fooling anyone with that excuse, either. Oh, so what was this about? 

“You’re fine,” Erik said casually, leaning down to pick up the tripod and hoist it over his shoulder. It was a fluid, easy movement. 

What else should he say? He wanted to ask more pointed questions. Are you really straight? Are you really single? What do you think you’re going to get out of this? Are you really interested in the arts, or is that for the show? Are you real? Can I have your number? 

Haha, oops! There was that bashful smile again, though this time it may have had an added layer of... panic? A bit of anxiety, at least. Nerves, for sure. Because was that bad? It definitely wasn't normal, surely, especially for him being the one who'd been chosen and cast for the show to have never seen it.

But, like... He'd signed a contract. He was here. What would they do, kick him out? No, no surely they wouldn't kick him out for this of all things.

"My sister is my agent." He said that in way of an explanation, in answer to 'what are you doing here.' "She saw that they had this- apparently- rare open call and pushed me to audition. I truly didn't think I'd land it in a thousand years, so I never bothered to do any 'research', and then everything else happened so fast, sssooo...?"

"Funny again." That time it came with an exaggerated eye roll, though, joining Erik on the bed as well once he'd collected the required books for this particular education. Charles huffed, tucking a bit of his hair back behind his ear- or moving to, at least, his hair wasn't actually quite long enough for it to do anything.

He had expected most of the night to be full of him showing off his costume, and having to fend off the dumb questions from jocks and drunk girls alike. Maybe he’d be taking one home. He hadn’t had that happen in a while, and Halloween was one of the best times of year for random hookups. Either way, he wasn’t expecting anything spectacular to happen. 

Then Charles Xavier had to surprise him. 

This kid was getting more and more brownie points in his book. 

Charles was looking over towards the other's friends with Erik, an amused smile on his lips. It was sweet that Azazel had at least tried to match with Erik, even if the attempt was a bit lackluster... Personally- if Charles were going to be a spider from Mars? Hmm... Maybe a bit of Marvin the Martian in there? Or a dusty, red color for the spider itself... like a giant desert dwelling beast. Extra eyes seemed superfluous, but- hm. Something to think about.

When Erik turned back to Charles, he smiled up at him. When Erik returned the handshake, it turned into a grin.

The bad thing about a boarding school is that you’re never able to be really, truly alone. There are roommates and when roommates are gone there’s— well, there’s everyone else. Erik included, Erik who hadn’t seen him since lunch earlier that day, who’d missed the incident with Moira and that cotton-headed ninnymuggin of an underclassmen William and the really quite painful bruise growing around his arm.

A chuckle bubbled up out of the smaller boy from somewhere, wet and shaky but still technically a laugh. He wiped at his face again, digging the heel of his hand hard into eyes to try and get them to cooperate but they were still wet and so heavy and tired... He was so fucking tired.

Charles glanced at Erik from out the side of his hand, a circle of darkness interposed over the vision from how hard he'd been pressing down on his eyes.

Jealousy had never been a cute look on anyone, and with Charles’ vast knowledge it wasn’t a style he very frequently wore. Still, he was only human (mutant, whatever. Human still applied here).

Cortez had been practically throwing himself on Erik all night. And if that hadn’t been enough, he was projecting. A man like that, who knew so much about the Magneto he worshipped, had no doubt known what he was doing to the man’s husband. As the night went on, Charles’ dislike only grew. It started as annoyance, but Erik was humoring the man! It was hard to keep his thoughts, hands, and reactions to himself but he did his best. So what if he was a little more physical with Erik tonight? He couldn’t see the other minding all that much. And it worked, to a degree. Cortez had backed off, even if only an inch, by the time he went to bed (his room being the furthest available guest room— the one with the hardest mattress).

Still, Erik’s words weren’t particularly encouraging. Some stupid little voice in his head, it told him that the only way Erik knew he loved him was the ring. That he wasn’t doing enough to show him he cared and wanted him here. But that was silly, wasn’t it? He dug through his own mind, files upon files. Erik knew he loved him, didn’t he?

Oh god, was that why he was allowing Cortez to flirt???

No. No, that’s the silliest thought yet.

Though as he looked at his husband, he saw the doubt on his face. It actually worried him, Charles was usually extremely confident, and when it came to them, well, he didn’t let the cracks show like this. The jealousy really was bothering him. 

But when Erik spoke- when Charles knew that Erik was telling the truth... He had to listen, because it was so very nice to hear. It felt like a warm hug, and it got Charles' stunted little smile to finish growing. He leaned up as much as he could and planted a kiss on Erik's- well, his arm. That was as far as he could reach.

And he let a little bit out, then. A tendril snaking up Erik's form and right into his mind. Colors like the sunset in late fall just before it disappears...all cotton candy pink and sherbet oranges. That last line on the horizon. A cool breeze on a hot summer's day and the smell of petrichor- that feeling of fresh, warm sheets on a cold winter's night and laying beside the one you love the most; each with their own books and cups of tea. Companionable silence.

Shuffled to #78

@legman-lensherr (no idea why it didn’t post it on the ask but here we are)

It was involuntary, at times, even if no one ever believed him— crawling into other people’s dreams. Overly tired, stressed…it was the same excuses any of their kind would make for a slip up. A loss of control. Erik wouldn’t be happy, if he knew, but Charles couldn’t find the door— he couldn’t leave if he wanted to. And truth be told, he did not want to.

He and Erik hadn’t been acquainted long, but they were speed running their friendship. Charles knew all of the other within five minutes of meeting him, after all. Before they’d ever spoken, but this was his first time in such an unabashedly vulnerable place his. Despite what you may outwardly think about the other mutant, about his conscience, about his mind and soul, his dreams were…full. They were loud.

An alarm was calling, but it seemed far off. Charles stood in a field, blue, while fog rolled in from a heard but unseen stream. He followed the sound, searching for either his host or the door out.

Charles was forcing eye contact, forcing Erik to look at him as much as he felt he was forcing himself to look at Erik. This was- delicate. This was all very delicate and fragile and he had to be careful not to fuck it all up and send this somewhere darker or let Erik's trust in him be broken by this obvious breech of trust.

It had been accidental at first, that was what he'd tell him if he figured it out in the waking world. And then he'd had to help- he'd had to.

"Yes, it is." Firm, stubborn. "Survival is your strength, not your shame."

There were few things in his life that were as hard as walking through that door had been.

Deciding to stay on the beach had been one of them, and it had led to his best years. At the end of them, he had lost the man in front of him. That had led to darker things. Those things may have come, but he wouldn’t have faced them alone. Having had to, he knew he had lost his way. Now, his way was back, as if no time had passed.

Now, as he walked into what had been his husband’s study, over twenty years ago, and looked at him for the first time, not aged a day, Erik Lehnsherr thought his heart would fail.

The look on his face had to reveal it all, cycling through emotions, everything plain, before it settled, as neutral as he could force it.

He was keenly aware of how he looked. How he must look. Erik had always been vain, and he had dressed the best he could. Scavenged what he could for fitted slacks, a dress shirt, a blazer, nice shoes. It was something he hadn’t really needed, but he kept it, just the same. An old habit. His hair, which he kept slightly longer now, not bothering to cut it, silvering. Crows feet webbed around his eyes, though his features had sharpened even more, honed by the harsh years. His body lean with hard muscle, not gone to slack with age due to necessity, the clothes still fit him well, the way he had always liked. He had left the helmet off, but carried it under his arm. It was a reminder, not only to Charles, but to himself, that the past was past. It may be hard for him to know, seeing it face to face like that.

Charles sat back, manually pulling his legs out from under him with practiced ease and leaning back on his hands to support himself. He sniffled, wiped his face on his shoulder, and let out a rather shaky sigh.

He just needed a moment to collect himself, before he could try and speak again.

He almost laughed at that, but it came out all wrong and threatened to turn into another sob- so he just put his shoulder in his mouth to smother it before it could bubble up.

"I can only imagine..."

"I'm sure Cassidy is one of them." He tried to sound grumpy, but he was smiling. He genuinely liked all of his students, every year, even if they were little monsters sometimes. They were just- excited! Which was good, they should be excited! Dinosaurs were exciting! Even after all these years, dinosaurs were still exciting.

Charles hummed. "Twenty minutes, that's all I need of you. I believe in you."