Chapter Text
1962
Covert CIA Facility
Erik wakes with a start, unsure of where he is for several moments after opening his eyes. His eyes dart around the small bedroom, scanning for anything familiar. His tongue is dry in his mouth as his mind comes up blank and buzzing, grasping at straws until his eyes settle on the brown leather case at the door.
He blinks and takes a deep breath.
Schmidt. Shaw.
He glances around the room, then down at his bare chest. Heat floods his face and neck as he remembers exactly where he is with startling clarity. He rubs a nervous hand over his mouth as he sits up slowly, not wanting to disturb—
Charles. Charles. Oh, my God. Charles.
Erik has to cover his face as the memories flood him at once. He rubs his eyes roughly and glances beside him. The bed is empty, and he’s grateful for it for once. He needs… time to process this.
He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands but immediately has to steady himself against the nightstand. His head spins, and his stomach lurches. His vision blurs as his eyes try to track across the room to find a bathroom door, unsure if he’ll make it there in time.
Oh, dear, I’m terribly sorry.
Erik cries out, stumbling several steps forward. He collects himself and rubs his hands over his face, forcing himself to take a deep breath.
Seems you’re a bit… eh…
Charles’ voice trails off in his mind, and Erik feels a bit insane as he stands in the middle of the room, naked, waiting for a response.
“Telepathically hungover, so to speak.”
Erik startles again and whirls around, nearly tipping over as he does so. Charles yelps and reaches out to steady him, but Erik swats him away and balances himself on the edge of the bed.
“Didn’t even hear the door…” he mutters, hardly able to look at Charles. “What are you… how did you…?”
Charles grimaces apologetically and shifts on his feet.
“I was, er,” he gestures toward the door. “Breakfast.”
His cheeks redden a bit as his eyes trace over Erik’s frame. Erik feels his own face do the same, and scrambles to cover himself a bit with the duvet, despite himself. Despite… everything that has transpired.
“Sorry,” Charles says softly, his eyes returning to his face. He clears his throat, pink lips quirking into a smirk.
“S’fine,” Erik murmurs, blinking rapidly, his eyes darting across the middle distance between them. “I was just… you… surprised me.”
“As I was saying,” Charles says quietly. “It seems last night was a bit much for your mind. I can help if you’d like.”
Erik swallows and licks his lips, still unable to meet Charles’ eyes. He shifts slightly, wringing the duvet between his hands.
“Sure,” he says quietly, eyes drifting to meet Charles’. “Yeah.”
Charles clears his throat again and shifts on the mattress beside him, slowly raising a hand to brush against Erik’s temple. The ghosting sensation makes him shiver a bit, and he closes his eyes as he feels Charles’ presence glittering at the edge of his consciousness. He sighs deeply and sways a bit as his shoulders relax. His body feels like it wants to slump backward onto the bed, but he remains upright.
“Easy…” Charles murmurs, laying a steadying hand on his elbow.
Erik hums softly and nods, a warm feeling washing over him.
“There,” Charles says, lowering his hand from his temple, though the other remains. “Let me know how that feels.”
“Lovely,” Erik murmurs, slowly blinking his eyes open, a drunken smile on his lips. His gaze flicks between Charles’ eyes, and he raises his hand to cover the one over his elbow. “You’re lovely.”
Charles drops his chin and chuckles bashfully, squeezing Erik’s arm.
“Well, thank you.”
“Much better,” he answers with a nod. “What did you do?”
“Pushed back some of the unpleasantness, brought forward more of the… opposite.”
Erik hums, leaning forward without a second thought to catch Charles’ lips with his own. The telepath makes a startled sound and brings a hand to Erik’s jaw.
“Mm. Sorry,” Erik murmurs, resting his forehead against Charles’, eyes closed.
“Oh, please don’t apologize for that,” Charles whispers. He runs his thumb along the curve of Erik’s jaw, smiling as he cranes his neck to brush their lips together again. “Never apologize for that.”
“Noted,” Erik breathes, sliding a hand along Charles’ waist as he kisses him again, pushing into him, trying to encourage him backward.
Charles remains firm, chuckling softly as he lays a gentle hand on Erik’s bare chest. He pulls back enough to speak, rubbing his nose against his cheek.
“I have to get back,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of Erik’s mouth.
“Mm, to… breakfast, right,” Erik chuckles, caressing Charles’ cheek.
Charles snorts and nods slightly.
“Yes, breakfast, but… there’s a demonstration I’m keen to see. I need to speak with the CIA and with Hank.”
Erik groans playfully and pulls back, running his hands through his unkempt hair.
“I suppose that’s reasonable.”
Charles smiles, his eyes tracking Erik’s movements carefully.
“Come find me once you’re decent. Lots of work to do.”
“Yes, of course. Work .” Erik chuckles and stretches out his limbs with a prolonged groan. “Will do. Thank you. Again.”
“You are very welcome,” Charles says as he stands to go. He leans back down to kiss Erik’s cheek and run a hand over his jaw. “See you soon.”
Erik hums, his gaze lingering on the door momentarily after Charles exits. He blinks a few times, the silence hanging heavily over him, disbelief settling in. He glances down at himself again and shakes his head, chuckling. He runs his hands over his face, still flushed, and makes his way for the bathroom to make himself decent.
He lingers in the shower for longer than he’d intended, replaying much of the night before, of the last two or so days. It still doesn’t quite feel real. The only concrete proof he has is the bruise on his right hipbone in the shape of Charles’ mouth, which he traces and presses into almost obsessively as he washes. Even that is barely enough to convince him that all of this isn’t some sort of dream, hallucination, or perhaps even life after death. Maybe he had drowned after all, and that’s all this is.
But no. He finishes his shower, changes back into his clothes from the night before, and does as Charles had asked, finds him.
Marco, he thinks experimentally as he begins to wander the facility, reaching for the connection that he can still feel lingering at the corner of his awareness.
Polo, comes Charles’ answering projection into his thoughts, along with a gentle nudge in the right direction.
Erik finds him meeting with the black-haired CIA agent they’d met the night before on the ship.
“ —so it could enhance your telepathic powers, help us find other mutants for our vision.”
“What if they don’t want to be found by you?” Erik asks as he steps into the doorframe.
Charles greets him with a warm smile and a tilt of his head.
“Erik,” he says softly. “You decided to stay.”
Erik turns to face him, just barely smirking. He directs his attention back to the CIA agent, his expression hardening slightly.
“If a new species is being discovered, it should be by its own kind,” he says, glancing between them.
Then, before he even really knows what he’s saying: “Charles and I find the mutants. No suits.”
Charles blinks, clearly just as surprised by Erik’s words.
Really?
Erik’s fingers twitch at his sides, but he maintains his composure as the excitement in Charles’ internal voice bounces around his head.
“First of all, that’s my machine out there—” says the agent, dark brows furrowing. “—second of all, and much more importantly, this is Charles’ decision. Charles is fine with the CIA being involved. Isn’t that right?”
Erik slides his eyes to the telepath. His gaze is already on him, brow furrowed, laser-focused.
You’ll stay? You’ll see this through?
It takes great effort to maintain his composure and continue to bite back the smile fighting to break out on his lips, but Erik manages.
Yes .
“No,” Charles immediately answers the agent, turning to face him. “I’m sorry, but I’m with Erik. We’ll find them alone.”
“And what if I say no?” the agent asks, raising a brow.
Charles purses his lips.
“Then good luck using your installation without me.”
The dark-haired man blinks a few times, glancing between the two mutants before settling his folded hands on the surface of his desk. He scoffs lightly, shakes his head, then chuckles.
“Well,” he says. “I suppose there’s… nothing further to discuss, then.”
“I suppose not,” Charles says with a smile, moving to stand. “Pleasure meeting you.”
The two shake hands, and the agent doesn’t acknowledge Erik again except with a glance in his general direction as he and Charles leave the room.
“Hank is already outside getting things ready,” Charles says as they start down the hall. “I’d just like to stop by Raven’s room and—”
As they round the next corner, Erik quickly surveys the empty corridor and catches Charles by the waist, pushing him into an alcove and crashing their lips together. The shorter man makes a surprised sound and brings his hands to Erik’s jaw, melting back against the wall as he realizes they’re somewhat protected for the moment. Erik pulls back from the heated exchange with a gasping breath and nudges their noses together, squeezing Charles’ hips.
“I just—”
“Mmhm, yeah,” Charles nods, looking a bit dazed. “Just…”
He glances over Erik’s shoulder, then back up at his face.
“Should probably be…”
“Careful, yeah,” Erik sighs. “‘Course.”
His eyes dart over Charles’ face as he considers the conversation they’d just left, and he runs his tongue nervously over his lips.
“Sorry… if I was… if that was…”
“No, no,” Charles says, shaking his head. “I agree entirely. If I had thought differently, I would’ve said so. You came in at a perfect moment.”
Erik nods slightly, bringing a hand up to caress the telepath’s face. He clears his throat and steps back a bit, glancing each way down the hall.
“Well, we should probably…”
“Yes, we should,” Charles chuckles, patting Erik’s shoulder as he passes. “I just wanted to get Raven so she could also see the demonstration and…”
Erik trails behind as they go, losing himself in his thoughts, the realization and disbelief settling over him once more. Everything has happened so quickly, he can barely wrap his mind around how he’s allowed himself to be swept up in all this. There is still an inherent reflex within him to run in the opposite direction and continue on his own to find Shaw, but it’s waning with every passing moment he spends with Charles.
Despite the fear and uncertainty, he cannot quell his curiosity about where this project will lead, what could be possible, and how many other mutants could be out there in the world. And the fact that he and Charles could be the ones to find them and bring them together.
That prospect fills him with… hope. Something that had been absent from his heart for so long that Erik had begun to think he’d never feel it again.
“Erik?”
He shakes his head and blinks, bringing himself back to the present moment. Raven and Charles are standing in the corridor before him, wearing almost identical expressions of concerned confusion.
“Hm?”
“I said, ‘good morning , Erik,’” Raven chuckles.
She bumps shoulders with Charles and heads down the hall, shaking her head.
“Morning,” he murmurs in response, following after her automatically.
Charles’ fingers brush his wrist, and he stops. He turns to meet his eye, raising his eyebrows.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Erik answers quietly, slowly sliding his gaze to meet Charles’. “I was just… thinking. About… all of this.”
He gestures vaguely around the hall. Charles nods, though his expression betrays a lingering sense of concern as his eyes trace over Erik’s features.
“Coming, boys?” Raven calls after them.
“Yes, darling,” Charles chuckles, eyes still trained on Erik. He juts his chin over his shoulder and squeezes Erik’s bicep. “Let’s go. I think you’ll find this quite exciting.”
“I’m sure,” Erik murmurs as he follows after the telepath.
He leaves the installation feeling a bit dazed, his senses flooded by his counterparts' excited chatter. Hank and Charles pass a ream of paper between their hands as the four of them walk across the facility's lawn, their eyes darting quickly across coordinates and mouths moving just as fast. Raven intermittently chimes in with her comments, and Erik feels a bit woozy.
It’s not until they’re back in Hank’s lab that he starts to pinpoint what it is, other than the general sense of overwhelm.
“Boys? I’m going to head down to the cafeteria and get some lunch,” Raven calls out from somewhere out of sight.
“Oh, lovely. I’m famished. And Erik, you haven’t…” Charles trails off, lifting his eyes from the coordinates for the first time since disconnecting from Cerebro. He meets Erik’s eye across the lab, and the slightest furrow appears between his brows. He turns his chin in Raven’s general direction but keeps his eyes on him.
“Raven, would you be a darling and bring me something back? And… Hank, why don’t you go with her?”
His eyes slowly slide to the scientist, his expression folding into a soft smile as Hank lifts his head, looking confused.
“You should take a break,” Charles says with a nod. “Erik and I will review these and start planning a route for initial contact.”
Hank’s brow furrows slightly, and Erik wonders if Charles doesn’t give him a bit of a telepathic push because he just stares at him blankly for a moment before nodding slowly and pursing his lips.
“Yeah…” Hank answers. “Yeah, sure.”
His gaze slides to Erik, lips parting slightly.
“You want anything?”
“Sure, yeah,” Erik says with a shrug. “Surprise me.”
Hank nods and turns to meet Raven as she hops down from where she’d been exploring the upper level of the lab.
“Be back in a flash,” she says, grinning as she links arms with Hank.
Charles watches them closely as they depart, and then his eyes are back on Erik.
“What is it?” he asks plainly, looking at him from beneath his browbone, fingertips resting on the seemingly endless list of coordinates in front of him. “You haven’t said a word about how you feel about this.”
Erik shrugs and approaches the opposite side of the lab table, his head tilted thoughtfully. He shakes his head slightly and runs his fingertips over the coordinates, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He swallows a few times, runs his tongue over his lips, then shakes his head again.
“I haven’t…” he glances between Charles and the numbers between them, jaw shifting. “I’m not sure how I feel.”
“Why?”
Erik scoffs, his eyebrows shooting up. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck and blows out a long breath, eyes darting quickly between the data lines.
“Charles,” he sighs, closing his eyes. “This is incredible…”
“ But …”
Erik closes his eyes and crosses his arms, lips pressed tightly together. He exhales sharply through his nose, then opens his eyes and looks at Charles, gesturing toward the table between them.
“Surely, you can see the potential for abuse here,” he says. “We have to be… this has to be done carefully. And… I’m not sure this is the right place to conduct this type of work.”
Charles nods, one eyebrow raising slightly as his eyes lazily trace over the data.
“Well, the CIA is no longer involved. We made sure of that this morning.”
“No,” Erik says with a smirk, stepping back to lean on another table behind him. “ I made sure of that this morning. You were more than happy to get in bed with them before—”
“Whoa—”
Charles raises his hands, chuckling. His eyes widen as they dart across Erik’s face, and his expression begins to fall as he realizes he wasn’t joking.
“Erik…”
“ Charles ,” he says, smacking his hands down on his thighs. “This is the CIA. The American government. What do you mean they’re not involved ? You’re using their equipment, their facility—”
“So, what? I should—I should pack up and leave? I don’t understand what—”
“I’m saying we need to tread lightly, that’s all,” Erik says, crossing his arms again. “That is all I’m saying.”
“No,” Charles says, the furrow in his brow deepening. “No, I don’t think it is.”
“Stop it,” Erik says, pushing off from the table and pointing a finger at him. “Get out of my head.”
Charles steps back, looking wounded. He stutters for a moment before he forms a complete sentence.
“I wasn’t— Erik . Can we take a step back, please? I think we’re—We’re talking past each other here and we just need to—”
“No, you are not listening to my very valid concerns—”
Charles scoffs and turns away from him for a moment. When he turns his back, there’s considerable color in his cheeks. He raises a hand to the table between them as he speaks.
“You’ve yet to raise a single concern! If you’re going to accuse me of something, just say it, for God’s sake!”
“It wasn’t an accusation,” Erik says, his voice low. “All I said was that I was concerned about the intentions of the bloody CIA having access to this much—”
He stabs a finger into the data sheets, eyes boring into Charles’.
“—information about an incredibly vulnerable population, the likes of which are completely unknown and—”
“That’s why we need to find them,” Charles says, coming closer to the table, pleading with him. “To—to understand, to teach, to learn. To show them they’re not alone. I thought—”
“ Charles ,” Erik sighs, looking toward the ceiling. “I understand that, but along with that comes the risk of—”
“Of what? Genocide ? You think I’d allow that?”
“You think you have the power to stop it?”
They stare at each other for a long moment, breathing heavily, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Charles blinks rapidly, then shakes his head in a jerky motion before glancing back down at the table. Erik bobs his head, trying to catch his eye.
“Do you?”
“No,” Charles says quietly. “No, I don’t. But I… I don’t believe that’s where this leads. I’m sorry, Erik, but I don’t. Especially not if…”
He trails off as Erik lifts his hand from the table and steps back with a huff, shaking his head.
“Especially not if we are doing this. Together,” he says.
Erik can feel his gaze burning into his back as he turns away and heads for the door.
“Don’t,” Charles says softly. “Don’t go. Please, Erik. I don’t—I really think—”
“I’m not leaving,” Erik mutters. “I just…” He shakes his head and rubs a hand over his mouth. “I don’t know. I need to… think.”
“Fine,” Charles says. “Eat something, will you? It will help, with the thinking.”
Erik grunts in the affirmative and steps into the hall, narrowly missing Hank and Raven as they come breezing back into the lab.
“Oh, why the long face?” Raven chirps. “Don’t like chicken and rice?”
“No, that’s fine,” Erik murmurs, barely meeting their eyes as he takes one of the to-go boxes from her. “Thank you. I’m just…”
He jerks his chin down the hall, then glances back over his shoulder.
“Feel free to…” His gaze lingers on Hank’s face for only a moment. “I don’t know. I just need to… get some air.”
“Okay…” Hank says, his eyes trailing after Erik as he skulks away. “See you later?”
Erik doesn’t respond.
He’d returned to his room to eat lunch, which took Erik a good portion of the evening. He picked at the meal a few bites at a time in between pacing and chewing on his thumbnail, agonizing over the words he’d exchanged with Charles.
To a degree, he agreed with the telepath that it was essential to seek out these mutants and learn about them, teach them, and bring them together. Still, he couldn’t shake his sense of unease.
As dusk fell over the facility, he dug through his duffel bag and found some clean clothes to change into. He was running out of those. He’d only brought a few things with him for his trip to Florida to kill Shaw and hadn’t really planned for much after that. Maybe this whole thing had indeed been rushed and misguided, after all.
He’s just settled into a plush armchair in the corner of the room to review some of Shaw’s files when a knock comes at the door. He sighs and lifts his head from the manila folder he has yet to open, disengaging the lock with a flick of his hand.
“S’open,” he calls, tucking the folder back into the leather case at his feet.
Much to Erik’s surprise, it’s Charles who sheepishly toes his way into the room. He has two tumblers clutched in his fingers and a bottle of bourbon tucked under his arm. He smiles tightly at Erik, bumping the door shut with his hip.
“Hi,” he says with a nod. His eyes flick over Erik’s frame uncertainly before he clears his throat and pulls the chair from the desk in front of the armchair. He offers Erik one of the tumblers as he sits, crossing his legs. “Truce?”
Erik slowly takes the glass from him, turning it over a few times in his hand to avoid the telepath’s eyes. Then, he shakes his head and places it between his feet on the floor.
“I’m not angry with you, Charles,” he scoffs softly. “It’s just… We have a difference of opinion. I’ll… get over it.”
“Mm, a difference in opinion, yes,” Charles muses as he pours himself a generous drink. He places the bottle between them and swirls the amber liquid in his glass. “But I don’t want you to think I’m not listening to you. I don’t want you to think you need to just get over it. Let’s talk about it. Please.”
“Charles,” Erik sighs, tilting his head. He slowly raises his eyes, exasperated. “I’m not sure I want to talk about this anymore. I’ve said my piece. We disagree. It’s fine. I just…”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. He barely registers the soft shuffling of Charles setting his drink aside and moving to stand.
“I don’t know… My head is just—”
He jumps a bit as a soft hand circles his wrist, the other sliding against his jaw and tilting his head upward. He opens his eyes and blinks a few times, eyes flicking quickly over Charles’ face.
“What are you…”
“Truce,” Charles repeats, quieter, smoothing his thumb over Erik’s wrist. “Yeah?”
Erik turns into the touch, sliding his hand past Charles’ to his waist, pulling him closer. He sighs as Charles’ nose bumps against his and his lips brush his cheek. He presses his hand into the small of his back, pulling him down into his lap and bringing his other arm up to wrap around his shoulders.
He glances over Charles’ shoulder and again engages the lock on the door as the telepath arranges his knees on either side of Erik’s hips and sits, fingers combing gently through his hair. His eyes flutter closed as Charles’ nose and lips brush along his jawline, Erik’s hands smoothing over his back and shoulders.
“Are you… trying to bribe me?” He murmurs, tilting his head as Charles moves down his neck, his movement still ghosting and chaste.
Charles rumbles with a laugh and noses against his ear.
“No,” he whispers. “We’re done talking about that for now.”
“Mhm,” Erik hums, sinking deeper into the chair beneath him.
Charles finally lays his lips properly on Erik’s skin, drawing a low sound from his chest as he plants slow kisses back up his neck, along the curve of his jaw, and finally, his lips. Erik sighs and settles his hands over Charles’ hips as their mouths move against each other, now feeling practiced and familiar in the motions despite the exhilaration and disbelief that lingers amongst it all.
Erik’s shoulders stiffen as the latter creeps in, flashes of their earlier confrontation returning to him. His hands hover over Charles’ hips, uncertain, despite how the telepath pressed himself against him and wound his fingers into his hair. He pulls back, breathless, and looks up at Charles from beneath heavy lids.
“Charles…” he sighs, shaking his head. “What… what are we doing?”
Blue eyes scan over his face, Charles’ expression still tender and open, his lips pink and kiss-bitten. He caresses one of Erik’s cheeks, one hand lingering at the back of his head, playing with his hair.
“We don’t have to do anything,” he murmurs as he studies Erik’s features. “If you don’t—”
“That’s not—”
Erik closes his eyes, chuckling lightly as he presses his palms into Charles’ hipbones. He looks back up at him and shakes his head.
“I may be conflicted,” Erik continues. “But not about… this. Not about you . I still… feel the same. I’m just a bit… pre-occupied, I suppose.”
Charles hums, smoothing Erik’s hair back from his forehead.
“Okay,” he says gently. “That’s okay.”
He tilts his head as his eyes flick over Erik’s face, his thumb tracing abstract shapes against his jaw.
“I do, too, for the record. Feel the same. If that’s what you’re worried about,” Charles says.
Erik feels himself flush and ducks his head sheepishly. Perhaps he had been concerned about that after this afternoon. He looks back up at Charles and squeezes his hips gently, then slides his hands up his back and pulls him closer again.
“Just a bit, maybe,” he says quietly, nosing against Charles’ cheek.
He sighs deeply, eyes fluttering shut again as fingers sink into his hair and tip his head back.
“What can I do to ease your mind?” Charles murmurs, a breath away from his mouth.
“Mm…” Erik chuckles and brushes their lips together, sliding a hand against Charles’ jaw. “This seems to be doing the trick.”
Charles grins and nuzzles their noses together, shifting his hips forward and down as he takes Erik’s face into both hands. Erik gasps slightly against his mouth before crashing their lips together again, wrapping an arm around Charles’ waist as his own hips buck up to meet him. He slides his other hand between them, palming over the tented front of Charles’ trousers.
The telepath keens at the contact and shifts impossibly closer, breaking away from Erik’s mouth in favor of the motion of his hand against him. He clutches his head into his chest, small, gasping sounds leaving him as his hips stutter forward. Erik tips his head back to watch as blotchy spots of color appear on the pale skin of Charles’ neck and cheeks, a smirk tugging at his lips.
He deftly unfastens the button of Charles’ trousers and slips his hand inside, still only touching him over the barrier of his undergarment, still watching him intently.
Charles moans, falling forward, fingers desperately fumbling for the waistband of Erik’s sweatpants. Erik pulls back slightly to give him space, his chest rising and falling heavily as he watches. Charles doesn’t tease or waste a moment. He simply licks the tips of his fingers and immediately pulls Erik’s cock straight out of his boxers and into the open air between them. Erik makes a desperate sound and looks up at him, slack-jawed and dazed.
Charles grins and nods down at himself, using his other hand to pull down the waistband of his own underwear. Erik sucks in a sharp breath and licks his lips, wrapping slightly trembling fingers around him. Charles’ eyes flutter closed, and his forehead falls heavily into his, his breath coming hot and heavy against his face.
“Lovely,” Charles says breathily, slowly moving his hand. “You’re lovely.”
“Mmhm…” Erik’s hips cant upward as he bobs his head to catch Charles’ mouth. “Kiss me, please.”
“ Happily ,” Charles murmurs before pressing his lips into Erik’s in a heated exchange.
Erik lets out a gasping sound as their mouths push back and forth against each other and Charles wraps delicate fingers around both of them, slick with saliva and pre-cum.
“Fuck—” Erik sighs, laying his hand over Charles’ and matching his pace. “Fuck, that’s good.”
Charles hums in agreement, his chin tucked into his heaving chest as he watches their bodies move together. He moves his hand aside a bit as a string of spit drips from his mouth, then crashes back into Erik again with a desperate sound. Each of their free hands tangle in the other’s hair as they melt together, heat and desperation mounting quickly.
Erik breaks away from Charles’ mouth enough to speak as they both begin to tremble.
“M’gonna—”
Charles’ nods unsteadily against his forehead and kisses the corner of his mouth, eyes hooded and slack-jawed as he looks down at him.
“Me, too,” he whispers breathlessly, adjusting his grip slightly.
Erik slides his other hand to Charles’ back and holds him close as they both come undone, one after the other, both grunting quietly into the other’s shoulder. Charles’ grip on the back of Erik’s neck tightens with the rest of his body as he spasms and spills over both their hands, then loosens as he relaxes and sinks against him. He sighs heavily and nuzzles into the crook of Erik’s neck, fingers combing gently through his hair.
Erik tips his head back against the chair, smoothing his palm between Charles’ shoulder blades as they breathe against each other.
“Thank you,” Erik murmurs, eyes drifting closed.
Charles hums wordlessly and kisses behind his ear a few times. They remain intertwined until Charles begins to groan and shift.
“Legs are cramping…” he mutters, pressing his nose against Erik’s temple. “Don’t wanna move…”
“Mhm,” Erik sighs, leaning into the contact. “Shower?”
Charles nods sleepily and runs his hand through Erik’s hair. Erik glances down at the mess between them and tilts his head, chuckling lightly.
“I definitely need to do some laundry,” he says. “But I should have something you can borrow.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Charles says, slowly lifting his head. His eyes trace over Erik’s face as he cups his jaw and rubs his thumb over his cheekbone. “Thank you. For staying. I know it isn’t easy.”
Erik takes a deep breath, eyes remaining closed as he tilts his face into Charles’ palm. Charles’ words from the previous night echo in his mind: everything . The thought still fills him with equal parts dread and a strange sense of serenity.
“Mm,” he hums. He slowly opens his eyes, pats Charles’ hip, and nods across the room. “Let’s shower.”
They stood beneath steaming water in relative silence, lingering close and swaying on their feet, both struggling to keep their eyes open. It doesn’t occur to Erik until he’s rinsing the shampoo out of his hair that he hasn’t gotten the chance to ask Charles about how the entire Cerebro ordeal had been for him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Hm?” Charles turns to him with a pleasant, sleepy smile, pushing his own hair out of his face. “Positively overjoyed, darling. And you?”
“No, I mean…” Erik chuckles and loops his arms around the smaller man’s shoulders. He studies Charles’ face, his brow furrowing a bit. “After… everything today. Cerebro. How was it? For you?”
He raises a hand to brush his knuckles against Charles’ temple. Charles closes his eyes and smiles, leaning his head against Erik's hand.
“It was…” His brows pinch together thoughtfully as his tongue flicks out across his lips. “Like nothing I’ve experienced before. So many minds. Mutant and human alike. It was… beautiful.”
“It was beautiful to watch,” Erik agrees.
“Mm,” Charles hums, raising his arms to circle Erik’s waist, his smile growing.
“But you’re alright? That sounds… I imagine it might be… exhausting.”
Charles’ eyes flutter open, large droplets clinging to dark, thick lashes.
“Yes,” he murmurs. “That, too. I’ve been… nursing a nasty headache for most of the day.”
Erik nods, smoothing his hair back from his forehead a few times.
“You told Hank about this?”
Charles purses his lips and glances toward the ceiling, and Erik sighs heavily, sliding his hand back down to the telepath’s jaw.
“Charles,” he says, the furrow in his brow deepening.
“I will,” Charles chuckles dismissively. “I will, truly! We were just—We were all so excited about everything else. My priorities were elsewhere.”
“Mhm,” Erik says, raising an eyebrow. “That’s my concern.”
“And I do so appreciate that, my dear,” Charles says, tipping his head up to brush their noses together. “But I’m alright. I will sleep wonderfully tonight and be fully refreshed tomorrow.”
Erik purses his lips, unconvinced. He tilts his head, then rolls his eyes and moves to turn off the shower. Charles chuckles lightly and clings to him as they exit the stall, arms still circling his waist. Erik laughs as he wraps a towel around the shorter man’s shoulders, craning his neck slightly to rest their foreheads together.
“Jumper or t-shirt to sleep in?” he murmurs, gently pushing wet hair behind the telepath’s ears.
“Mm… jumper, please,” Charles says before gently kissing Erik’s lips. “Thank you again.”
“Mhm, and thank you,” Erik hums, rubbing his hands over the towel on Charles’ shoulders.
He rubs a towel over his dripping hair before he secures it around his waist and returns to the bedroom to search through the last of his clean laundry. Charles is soon at his back, hugging him from behind and slowly kissing over his shoulder blades. He peeks around Erik’s arm and rubs his cheek against his bicep.
“Is this all you have with you? Just the one bag?”
Erik nods as he hands him a black crewneck and boxers, his gaze slowly sliding to meet tired blue eyes. He shrugs slightly as he trades the towel around his waist for a pair of black boxers.
“I’ve been traveling light recently,” he says, then sits on the corner of the bed. He tilts his head thoughtfully, eyes darting across the middle distance momentarily. “Well, I suppose it’s been…”
He hadn’t really stopped to think how long it’d been. Charles tilts his head in turn, slowly slides Erik’s sweatshirt over his head, then sits beside him, thighs and shoulders brushing. He inches his hand onto his leg, and Erik holds it loosely, still staring into space.
“How long?” Charles asks quietly.
Erik makes a sound like a laugh, eyes still sliding back and forth slowly, calculating.
What was the longest he’d stayed in one place recently? One city, one country? What was the longest he’d done that if it wasn’t for a lead, for killing? Was there anything he’d done in the past two decades that hadn’t been for that purpose?
“Erik?” Charles shifted a bit, ducking his head to try to catch his eye. He squeezed his hand and brought the other to his face, gently turning his head to face him. “Darling, where’d you go?”
“Twenty years,” he says roughly as he struggles to drag his eyes to meet Charles’. “It’s been… I’ve been…”
Charles balks at that, his eyes widening as his brows knit together, a complicated mix of emotions running across his face. He’d clearly been expecting weeks, months, maybe a year or two. Erik gulps and wrings his hand around the telepath’s fingers, blinking rapidly as a knot comes to his throat, still averting his gaze.
“Eighteen, I suppose,” he says, shaking his head slightly. “The, ah…”
His lips tremble as he continues, his fingertips feeling cold and clammy despite the heat and the flush of the shower still clinging to his skin.
“Shaw fled, as many of them did. When word came that the Soviets were coming to…” He clenches his teeth and closes his eyes, swallowing down the nauseous, dizzy feeling trying to overtake him. He lets out a bitter laugh and shakes his head. “Not before making me help him destroy evidence, of course. Dozens, hundreds of files. Then he fled. Left me there amongst the rest of the Judenratten . That was, ah, late in ‘44, I suppose…”
He glances toward the ceiling as he swallows thickly, nodding. He glances down at his lap and flexes his free hand a few times, shifting his jaw. He sniffs and shakes his head, blinking away any lingering tears threatening to spill over his lashline.
“Then the camp was liberated in ‘45, so,” he glances at Charles momentarily, then looks back down at the floor.
“Eighteen years, then, yeah,” he scoffs. “I haven’t… haven’t stopped… since then. Couldn’t.”
He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and tilts his head, covering their joined hands. He scrunches his nose and sniffs again, then shivers and looks up at the telepath. Charles is still staring at him with a wide-eyed expression, unmoved. Glistening blue eyes slide across his features, fingers twitching against Erik’s palm.
“I think—” Erik takes a deep breath and glances over his shoulder at the bed. “Would you mind if we laid down?”
“No,” Charles whispers, squeezing his hand. “No, not at all, darling.”
Erik moves slowly, shifting the duffel bag to the floor before he crawls up the bed and settles under the covers on his side. Charles follows closely and lies beside him, so close their noses nearly touch. He gently brushes his knuckles over Erik’s lips, eye tracing over his face, a slight wrinkle still present between his brows.
“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t… I had no idea. That it’d been…”
“Sh…” Erik circles Charles’ wrist with one hand and rests the other on his waist, shaking his head against the pillow. “Don’t be sorry. You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”
“Mm, still,” Charles says, blinking slowly. “I’m sorry this has tormented you for so long.”
Erik nestles into the pillow and slides his arm around Charles’ waist, drawing him closer. Charles wraps his arms around Erik in turn and nestles his head into the crook of his neck, sighing deeply as they settle against each other.
“You deserve to rest,” Charles whispers against his skin. “I will do whatever I can to ensure that you can. We will find Shaw again. We’ll stop him. ”
Erik takes a shaky breath and squeezes Charles tighter, nestling against his shoulder. He closes his eyes and smooths his hand over his hair, pressing his head closer. He only nods in response, curling into the telepath’s touch. His mind still feels a racing, incessant wreck, but he tries to focus on the rhythm of Charles’ easy breath beneath his palms. He tries not to circle back again and again to the words lingering on his tongue:
It’s not enough to stop him. It will never be enough. I have to kill him. I’m sorry. I know you don’t understand. It’s something I have to do. It’s something I decided a long time ago.
He presses his lips tightly together and nestles his nose against Charles’ hair with a soft grunt, tears burning once more at the corners of his eyes. His breath hitches, and he clutches Charles impossibly closer, partially to prevent him from looking up at his face. His entire body tenses and trembles with the action.
“Sh, sh, sh,” Charles shushes him, rubbing a hand over his ribs. “Shhh… it’s alright. It’s alright, it’s alright. Just breathe. Take a breath for me, darling.”
Erik closes his eyes, and the first few breaths come quick and unsteady, but Charles’ voice is so soft and gentle when he says it’s alright that he almost has no choice but to believe him. The next few come deeper and easier, and Charles hums contentedly, sliding his hand to cup the back of Erik’s neck, squeezing gently.
“There you go,” he murmurs, taking a few exaggerated deep breaths himself, his willowy chest pushing against Erik’s as it expands and contracts. “That’s good. Very good.”
Erik chuckles softly and kisses Charles’ forehead as the telepath’s fingers sink into his hair and flex gently against his scalp.
“I am right here,” Charles continues. “I’m not going anywhere. Not for a good long while.”
“Mm…” Erik sighs, his body slowly relaxing and sinking against the mattress and Charles again. “Mhm…”
“Rest, now, my darling,” Charles whispers, combing his fingers through Erik’s hair. “I will be right here when you wake.”
Erik sniffs and rubs his palms over Charles’ back, nestling his nose into damp hair, nodding.
“Thank you,” he murmurs sleepily.
“Shh,” Charles chuckles softly. “Goodnight, Erik.”
“Goodnight, Liebling …”