Better Outrun My Gun
“Erik,” Charles advances slowly, half expecting Erik to move away from him, but for once the man stays still. Erik stands there silently as Charles touches him.
Charles takes Erik in hand almost reverently. He doesn't think about what Shaw's men said. He knows Erik, knows Erik is never going to harm him, not intentionally. Instinctively, Charles knows that whatever Erik is doing here, he's doing out of love. Revenge is there too, but love is at the heart of it.
“Erik,” Charles murmurs his name as he strokes Erik gently. He wants so much, but now, just having his hand on Erik's cock is almost enough.
“Charles, you...” Erik can't say any more. There is so much he wants to say to Charles, but where would he even begin? He reaches out to thread his fingers through Charles's hair. “When I saw you there at the ranch...”
Charles's hand upon him stills for a second, and then continues, stroking up and down with the same deliberate rhythm. “Yes?” Charles asks softly. His fingers drag the words out of Erik, along with the pleasure he hasn't allowed himself to feel in so long.
“I was afraid they'd hurt you.” Erik tells him.
“Is that all?” Charles looks at him hopefully. More hopefully than he wants to admit.
“I wanted you.” Erik tells him bluntly. His fingers caress Charles's hair gently as though he wants to pull him in for a kiss, but can't bring himself to do it.
Charles smiles slowly, his hand still stroking Erik. “I hoped as much.”
“In that moment?” Erik lets the question dangle between them. He's quickening in Charles's hand, any minute he's going to come. Still, he has to hear Charles say what he already knows.
“No,” Charles admits. “In that moment there, I was afraid.” It pains him to admit it, now, here to Erik, but he can't lie.
“Of me?” Erik's words are almost lost in a half-stuttered moan as he thrusts against Charles's fingers.
“Yes.” Charles turns his face away, ashamed of himself, of his fear, his mistrust.
Erik smothers his gasp as he comes, straining hotly through Charles's fingers as his own tighten in Charles's hair. “Then you're not a fool.” He releases Charles abruptly, stepping away.
“Yes, I was.” Charles says flatly. “It was foolish of me to believe that you would ever harm me or my family.”
“Charles, how could you ever know so absolutely?”
“Because you're a better man than Shaw.” Charles tells him simply. “Even if you think you're not, Erik. You are.”
The way Charles is looking at him with his guileless blue eyes, so open, so sure. It's astounding. Erik shakes his head. “You are....a rare man, Charles.”
“Because I want to believe there's good in you? In most men?”
“No," Erik shakes his head. "The fact that you think it's worth something.”
Charles opens his mouth to respond and what comes forth is, “I want you.”
Erik takes in the sight of him; Charles is standing there before him, young, naked, perfect. Erik could have him here and now. Maybe that would be enough...but he can't do it. “Charles.”
“I mean it. I don't say things I don't mean, Erik. If I didn't mean it, I wouldn't have said it. I wouldn't have told you for the world, if I didn't.” He's babbling, he needs to stop himself from saying any more.
“I believe you.” Erik smiles in spite of himself. “I wasn't saying no, Charles.”
“Then...”
“I'm saying...wait.” He puts up a hand, stopping Charles's protests before he can voice them. “Just tonight, tomorrow. If you haven't thought better of it tomorrow night, then...yes.”
“You won't change your mind?” Charles can't help asking.
“Charles, how could I deny you anything let alone something I have wanted for so long?”
At that, Charles can't wait. He leans in to kiss Erik just once, an intense, lingering meeting of their mouth, all teeth and tongue that leave them both hungry for more. Somehow Charles manages to pull away. His heart is beating rapidly as he looks up at Erik.
“All right then, until tomorrow night.” He doesn't know if he can last that long.
“Now,” Erik looks down at himself. “I suppose you and I had better clean up again and go inside. Your sisters must be wondering.”
Charles can only nod.
Silently they return to the trough and wash quickly. Then, wrapped once again in their towels, they enter the kitchen. Moira has mugs of hot milky coffee, whiskey tempering it, waiting for them on the table.
They drink them, barely able to look at each other without remembering the new knowledge of each other's bodies, but unable to truly look anywhere else.
'How the devil am I supposed to get through tonight?' Charles wants to know.
Erik clears his throat. “I'd better say goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Erik.” Moira smiles at him. Charles can't get a word out.
“Goodnight,” He nods at both of them, and goes upstairs.
Charles watches him go down the hall. Erik's ass in that towel is something he's going to remember for a long, long time. He can't help the soft exhalation he makes. He remembers then about the stain on his jeans. By now, Moira's seen it. Charles closes his eyes, sighing a little. He doesn't really want to think about his sister finding that.
Moira looks at him out of the corner of her eye. “Is there something you'd like to tell me, Charles?”
Charles considers, staring at his mug. “They didn't take me out to the desert. They took me to Shaw's.” He shouldn't tell her this; she'll just worry more. But he knows how it is. He'd rather know what was going on than be kept in the dark, just like Moira.
“Charles,” Moira sinks into the chair opposite him. The fear in her voice makes his heart ache.
“He got me away from them...” That's all he'll say. It's enough.
“Oh, Charles.” She takes his hand, just holding it.
“It's all right. It's just...Erik.” He swallows, trying to think of how to explain.
“You have feelings for him?” Moira asks softly. “Don't you?”
“Yes.” Charles keeps his eyes fixed firmly on his cup. The coffee is almost gone. The dribble that's there is barely a sip. He lets it sit there, just holding the cup between his hands until all the warmth is gone.
“What about when he leaves?”
Charles shakes his head. “I don't know.”
They sit across from each other in silence.
The night passes more easily than Charles expects. No sooner has his head touched the pillow, then he's fallen into a deep sleep.
When he wakes in the morning, there's a lightness to his thoughts. Something, he can't figure, and then he remembers. Erik. Remembering last night makes Charles smile as lies there in bed. It fades as he thinks of Erik's involvement with Shaw. Something was causing Erik to work for Shaw. But whatever it was, he'd tell Charles in his own time. Whatever it was, Erik had to have a good reason. Charles is certain of this.
Quickly he gets out of bed, washes and dresses and heads downstairs. Moira's wiping down the bar. “Charles, it's your turn to cook breakfast.”
“I know.”
He goes into the kitchen to get the stove heating, building from the coals of last night's fire. He gets the oatmeal started before making a fresh pot of coffee. There's laughter from the direction of the barn. Charles looks out the window to see Erik helping Raven water the horses. It looks so natural having him there. Charles feels a pang. Why can't Erik stay? The oatmeal bubbles, drawing his attention back to the stove. He has it on the back burner, keeping it hot while he fries the bacon, when Erik and Raven finally come inside.
“No eggs?” Raven inquires, tapping the empty bowl.
“Did you fetch eggs?” Charles flips the bacon. “No? No eggs then.”
“I'll get them.” Erik reaches for the bowl. He grins at Charles as he goes.
“Sooooooo.” Raven waits until the door swings shut. “Want to tell me what really happened last night?”
Charles gets a flicker of memories. Bare, white skin. Erik standing naked in front of him. Erik. “What do you mean?”
“I've seen the way you look at him, Charles.” She reaches for the coffeepot. “Don't deny it, you idiot.”
“All right. I'm not denying anything.” Charles feels hounded. Both of his sisters in less than twelve hours have somehow completely guessed his feeling. And Erik...Charles feels heat creeping over the tips of his ears. Erik knows Charles wants him, but he doesn't know how much Charles cares for him.
“Something happened last night. I can see it in your eyes.” Raven leans on the table. “What?”
“I don't know what you're talking about.” Charles focuses on the bacon.
“Are you going to tell me or do I have to ask Erik?”
Charles turns, waving his cooking fork at her. “You do and I'll,” he stops as Erik comes through the door.
“Ask me what?” Erik's standing in the open doorway with a bowlful of eggs.
“Whether you want one egg or two?” Raven smiles at him. As Erik turns to close the door, she makes a gesture at Charles that makes him hiss, “Raven.”
“Here, Charles.” Erik hands him the bowl.
“Thank you.” Charles takes them.
Erik moves to pour himself some coffee. He sips it in quiet contentment, watching as Charles finishes cooking breakfast.
After breakfast, Charles sets about washing the dishes. Erik takes the buckets out to the pumps without even asking if Charles wants the help. He supposes Erik already knows he does.
Charles ties his apron around his waist and goes outside. “I can take those.”
“It's no trouble.” Erik tells him, picking them both up.
Charles reaches for one all the same, and their fingers meet. Erik grins and releases the bucket handle. Charles grabs it just in time, but water sloshes across his pants.
“Damn!” Charles glares at him.
“Sorry.” Erik glances down at him.
They're both smiling, just standing there in the morning sunlight. It's ridiculous, Charles knows this full well, but he doesn't stop smiling.
“Do we really have to wait for tonight?” Charles whispers.
“A deal is a deal, Charles.” Erik brushes past him. “Come on.”
Charles takes a deep breath. “Give me strength.” He mutters and follows Erik up the steps into the kitchen.