Beneath Me 33
Charles awakens slowly on the morning of the hunt. His body feels slow and utterly relaxed. For a moment, he imagines Erik lying beside him, naked beneath the sheets. Then he pushes the image aside and sits up. Yesterday was a pleasant fantasy. Today was the reality where he'd have to be among his father and his companions, his own society.
He gets dressed and joins the hunting party just in time. Emma looks resplendent as usual. She gives him a private smile, and Charles feels slightly smug, though he's not sure why. Finally, amongst the bright red hunting jackets, he spots Erik leading a pair of horses down the avenue. Charles is unable to turn away, his eyes complete focused on the stable hand. He can't help it, thinking of what they shared last night. How they feel together. Erik is a marvelous, remarkable being, and Charles wants...
That's the whole trouble, really. Charles wants.
Erik brings his horse over to him. “Here you go, my lord.”
“Thank you, Erik.” Charles brushes against him as he moves to mount the horse.
Erik can't help smiling slightly. “Good luck in the hunt.”
Charles looks down at him in surprise. For a moment they stare at each other. Charles's breath quickens; he can barely breathe. Erik's simply smiling up at him in the late morning sunlight. The whole moment is a beautiful occasion.
“Erik.” He wants to say more, to remind the man of last night, but he can tell the rest of the company is ready to begin, so he holds off. The hunting party is ready to head out.
The hunting horn blows, and they start. Charles digs his heels into his horse's flanks and they're off.
* * *
The hunt takes them across the fields, and through the fields. Charles is riding, barely aware of anything else in the world. It's almost a relief to have this quiet take over his mind. No thoughts of his father, his future, his education, his hopes, dreams, impending marriage, Erik... It all falls away and Charles simply is.
The grooms are waiting at the halfway point with fresh horses. Charles dismounts quickly, but stops to take the handkerchief Erik offers him to wipe the sweat from his face. He's breathing heavily, lost in exhilaration. Erik's staring at him like he's never seen him before and Charles wants to kiss him, freezing that look in his eyes forever. His hand lingers on Erik's as he hands the handkerchief back. There's a slight smile hinting at the corner of Erik's lips.
“You ride beautifully, Charles.” He murmurs under his breath.
“I'd rather be fucking you.” Charles whispers back. Hearing his name on Erik's lips is a quiet pleasure.
“I'll bet.”
“Charles!”
Charles jerks his head upward. His father is already mounted on a fresh horse. The man is glaring at him. “Mount up, boy!”
“Yes, sir.” Charles mutters.
“Later.” Erik promises, as he holds the reins. Charles gives him a quick nod, and then they're off again.
* * *
Emma comes in first at the kill, which Charles doesn't mind, except he has to hear about it from his father all the way back to the house.
His father's still at it when they reach the stables, drawing Charles aside to berate him further.
“It's quite clear you should spend more time practicing your riding and last time with your nose stuck in those damn books!” Lord Xavier hisses, his face reddened with anger. “You're a disgrace, Charles. An utter disappointment. It's a wonder Shaw will still marry you to his ward at all. As for you, you should be damned grateful such a woman will even consider you.” He stalks off.
Charles doesn't move. He knows it doesn't matter, not really. His father's words simply wash over him. He feels almost cold, though he's still half standing in the midday sun.
“Charles.” Erik's there, taking the reins from his hand.
“You heard all of that, I suppose.” Charles says stiffly.
Erik hesitates, then nods. “He doesn't know anything, Charles.” He moves in, too close for propriety, but Charles doesn't care. He wants the warmth of Erik's body. “You ride like a young god.”
At that Charles laughs, but he's still touched by the sentiment, and there's a look in Erik's eye. A look that's almost tender.
“Here.” Erik nods at him. “Come with me.” He hands the horse's reins off to another stable-boy, with the strict instructions for the beast to get the proper rubdown. Then he leads Charles down the row of stalls and out the back door into the sun.
Erik leads Charles down the path to a lower garden and there, sits the abandoned summerhouse that Charles dimly remembers from a childhood visit. He recalls Emma hiding here during a game of hide-and-seek. It took him ages to find her. Now it's half covered in ivy and cobwebs, a chair overturned beside the stone table. The floor is covered with dried leaves.
“How did you find this place?” Charles asks.
“I went for a walk.” Erik draws him up the steps and turns to face him, his hand still on Charles's wrist. “I thought it looked like a good place to kiss someone.”
“Oh?” Charles smiles.
“Yes.” Erik leans in, brushing his lips across Charles's. His lips are warm, drawing Charles in. His hands slide around Erik's body, pulling him closer. Erik's got one hand on his backside and the other tangled in Charles's hair as he kisses Charles. He tugs lightly on Charles's lower lip with his teeth, teasing him. Charles forgets about everything. There is only Erik's delightful mouth, Erik's tongue torturing him in the most sensuous fashion.