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If there is one word to describe Erik, it would be passionate. The others would probably call it “violent,” but Charles knows better. He’s seen Erik in his quiet moments, been inside his deepest memories. There is more to the man than the single minded rage he projects against the world like protective armor. There’s still the tenderness of a young boy missing his mother, of a man who wants to protect others, even if he keeps it buried beneath thoughts of suspicion and revenge.
Charles sees the evidence every day, in little actions the others overlook. When Erik pushes Sean off the top of the satellite dish, Hank is appalled; but Charles sees the outstretched hand, ready to manipulate the metal on Sean’s suit at the first sign of danger. He overhears the things Erik says to Raven when no one else is around, accepting and encouraging her in a way that Charles himself never could. He sees it in the way Erik congratulates each of the children on their advancements, the subtle warmth of pride radiating from his mind. The others may not see it, but only because Erik chooses to keep it that way. It makes it feel like a secret which only Charles and Erik know. Maybe even Erik himself doesn’t realize it.
So Charles isn’t at all surprised when Erik leans across the chess board one night, in the middle of a one-sided conversation about genetics, and places a gentle, lingering kiss on his lips. One of the advantages of being a telepath is that he is very rarely surprised. While he resolutely keeps out of Erik’s mind unless invited, there’s no way to block the attraction and desire that have been rolling off of him for days now, radiating like waves of heat. But Charles is surprised by the gentleness of the kiss; not to be mistaken for tentativeness, because once Erik has put him mind to something, he becomes as unstoppable as a hurricane. His kiss makes his intentions and desires clear, but he also waits for permission.
Charles makes his acquiescence unmistakably clear by fisting his hands in Erik’s turtleneck and practically dragging him across the small table, just to get him closer, dammit. Erik breaks off in surprise and chuckles, letting himself be rearranged on the sofa beside Charles. Charles can feel the laughter with his mind, like little champagne bubbles, bursting and tickling his senses. It’s a sensation of happiness he’s never felt off of anyone before, and like champagne, it’s a bit intoxicating.
Erik’s kiss is slow and deliberate, as he cups Charles’s face with both big hands, like Charles might slip through his fingers if he’s not careful enough. But the hungry kiss belies this practiced calm. Pleasure and desperation comingle in his mind with equal intensity, alongside warring desires to savor this moment and a need for so much more.
Charles usually keeps his own feelings safely inside his mind, by instinct and years of careful control. But now he gives them free reign to reach out to Erik, to fill him with his own sensations and feelings and desires. Erik gasps into the kiss, and Charles knows exactly what he is seeing: a clear image of the two of them, laid out on Charles’s bed, caressing and panting and writhing.
Erik pulls away sharply, and for one terrifying moment Charles thinks that maybe he’s been wrong, that his power has failed him. Maybe that’s not what Erik wants at all, and he’s going to walk away in disgust.
Instead Erik stares at him for a long moment, surprise mingling with desire in his lust-blown eyes.
“Is that what you want?” he asks, his voice low and gruff despite the tender expression on his face. Charles nods, all he can seem to manage at the moment, but with his mind he sends out another image: Erik, buried within him, connecting their bodies as their minds already are. Erik groans, his eyes fluttering shut, and without another word he pulls Charles to his feet, guiding him down the hall with a proprietary hand on his waist.
Once behind closed doors Erik seems to wait, watching Charles carefully. The telepath doesn’t need to read his mind to know he’s waiting for Charles to make the first move. So he does, shrugging off his cardigan and unbuttoning his shirt. Large hands cover his own and Charles thinks maybe he is moving too fast. But instead of stopping him they push his hands away and continue the task for him, a finger trailing down each inch of chest as it is slowly revealed. Charles shivers under the sensation. Erik’s hands are usually slightly cool to the touch, like the metal they manipulate; but right now they feel warm and alive.
Charles is too impatient to wait for all the infernal buttons, and he pulls Erik into another kiss, distracting him from his task. Erik lets Charles control the kiss, following his lead as his hands continue to work the buttons free without faltering. When the last one is finally undone he drops the shirt over Charles’s shoulders, running his hands down over his arms and along his back. Charles shivers at the lightness of the touch, and breaks the kiss to impatiently pull Erik’s shirt over his head. It leaves his hair mussed, hanging down into his face, but Charles likes it that way, a small flaw in Erik’s perfectly composed façade. It matches well with the uncharacteristic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Charles maneuvers them towards the bed, more than ready to move things further along. He feels his belt loosening and doesn’t even have to look to know that Erik is doing it with him powers. He toes off his shoes as he feels the fly of his trousers lower and the button pop free. Then warm hands are on his waist, pulling the material down and away, exposing the rest of his skin to the cool air.
Charles looks up at Erik to find him staring, examining Charles the way he himself might look at a particularly fascinating genetic sample. He doesn’t need any special powers to know the meaning of that look: utter absorption and reverence. It makes Charles blush slightly. He’s never been looked at that way, not by the random people he had met in pubs and shared a night with, not with the one or two people he had let closer. None of them had ever looked at him like he was salvation, and it is equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.
Charles breaks that stare by unfastening and removing Erik’s trousers, leaving them both naked and aroused and heady with anticipation. He can’t help running a hand over all that skin in front of him, from sharply angled hips to flat abs and muscles pectorals, tracing all the flat planes and sharp dips. Erik watches his hands move, enraptured.
Erik stops the questing hands with his own, bringing them to his mouth and placing a kiss on each palm. He keeps his hold on one hand and moves the other to Charles’s waist, carefully lowering him onto the bed. Charles pushes up against the pillows before using their connected hands to pull Erik down on top of him. He nearly throws the bigger man off balance, but Erik catches himself before he crushes Charles beneath him. Charles lets out a breathy laugh, but it’s cut off when Erik begins kissing him again, deeper, more insistent now.
Charles lets his desires spill out of his mind, and Erik fulfills each one perfectly. He kisses and nibbles on Charles’s throat in the exact spot then leaves him writhing and panting, while running deft fingertips over sensitive nipples and the tender skin of his hips and thighs. Charles feels himself coming undone under the careful ministrations, his thoughts devolving into a jumbled mantra of yes and there and more.
Erik’s thoughts feel like a bright light, warm and intense and pulsing. Charles is too distracted to make out individual thoughts, but he has little use for mind reading when Erik is above him, watching him with such clear fondness and longing. It’s as if all the intensity of his anger and hatred has been transmuted to tenderness, and is shining on Charles like a spotlight. It’s overwhelming, but he can’t help but be thrilled. Erik thinks of himself as an unforgivable sinner, Charles has seen it. If only he could see himself as he is now, gentle and caring and full of so much good. Charles’s mind is too overwhelmed for that kind of complicated transference at the moment, but he hopes that Erik will feel his emotions, and that the trust and affection he feels will come through.
Erik prepares Charles’s body slowly and thoroughly until Charles is nearly begging him to please get on with it. Erik murmurs something about pain and being careful, and Charles can feel the flashes of concern in his mind. Charles tries not to think about the near desperation in that concern, about what has made Erik so cautious of pain. If it will ease Erik’s conscience then Charles is content to let him take things slow, though he tries to reassure Erik that he won’t hurt him.
Finally Erik seems satisfied, and slowly pushes himself into Charles’s heat, inch by inch, allowing time for Charles to adjust. Charles is grateful for his care, because it really has been some times since he’s done this, but it feels exquisite, and he wants more, quickly. He sends his thoughts to Erik, showing him that he is relaxed and ready and just a little desperate. Erik takes this hint and begins thrusting in a steady rhythm, at first slow and languorous, but picking up speed as they both come undone. Charles receives flashes of sensation from Erik’s unguarded mind, of the tightness of his own body and the sensation of heat and pressure. It drives him quicker towards that inexorable edge.
As they get closer and closer to completion a bit of Erik’s carefully composed control slips, and Charles feels his strength and raw power, moving over him, in him, and it’s both wonderful and overwhelming. He cries out one final time as he comes, with Erik still moving within him. For a brief flash Charles sees himself through Erik’s eyes, flushed and panting and completely wanton, but then the image is gone, and Erik is pulsing within him, coming with a wordless cry.
In the aftermath they lay close, still trying to catch their breath and slow the beating of their hearts. Erik places his palm over the spot where Charles’s heart is still trying to break itself free of his ribcage, with an almost desolate look on his face. Charles probes his mind lightly, as unobtrusively as he can, and sees the memories lying just below the surface of euphoria, images of people Erik has loved and lost, the few people he has ever let into his heart, all of them gone.
Charles has no words to soothe those old hurts, so instead he allows his mind to reach out to Erik’s and cover it like a comforting blanket, wrapping him in a sense of peace and closeness that Charles hopes will last, at least for a little longer. He places a kiss on the top of Erik’s head, resting against his shoulder, as he runs soothing hands through his hair.
Once they leave this room things will go back to how they always are. Others will look at Erik with fear and suspicion, and Erik will continue to look at the world the same way. But hopefully he’ll remember the peace and trust that they’ve found together, a secret just between the two of them.