Beneath Me -
Charles stirs sleepily. The first breath of morning is whispering through the curtains. He rolls over and meets warm skin. He blinks, opening his eyes to see Erik sleeping beside him still. Naked.
Right. Charles studies the man's sleeping form, remembering how it felt to be fucked by him. Erik moves slightly in his sleep, but doesn't wake. He looks younger in his sleep, vulnerable even. Charles resists the urge to brush the hair back from Erik's forehead.
Christ, he needs to stop this before he gets too deeply invested in it. But what's the harm? It's just a fling with a servant. He can't possibly worry about getting too invested with Erik, because such a thing could never happen, obviously. Charles asks the question of himself, but has no answer.
“It's far too early for you to be frowning like that.” Erik murmurs. He reaches up to draw Charles down for a lazy kiss, sliding his tongue inside Charles's mouth with casual familiarity.
Charles lets himself be kissed, lets Erik slip a hand between his legs, stroking his cock. He closes his eyes as Erik's tongue works its magic, caressing his mouth. He hardens quickly enough.
“Charles.” Erik pulls on Charles's lower lip with his teeth.
Charles slips his hand around the back of Erik's neck, holding him close as they kiss. His breath comes faster as Erik teases him mercilessly, cupping his balls. He opens his mouth, and...
...there's a knock at the door. “Sir?”
“Just a minute!” Charles yelps. He pushes Erik off the bed hurriedly. “Get out, now.”
Erik hits the floor with a thump. “Ow.”
“Master Charles?”
“Wait a minute!” Charles hisses. “Just go. How did you get up here last night anyway?”
“I climbed up the ivy.” Erik's looking for his trousers. The sight is quite distracting and for a moment, Charles almost forgets the situation at hand.
Another sharp rap at the door reminds him. “Charles.”
“Jesus fucking christ.” Charles swears. “GET OUT.”
Erik has only a moment to dive under the bed before the door opens and Charles's father steps in. Charles grabs at the blankets, covering himself.
“What the devil is this? Charles? The morning is half gone. Get some clothes on, and get your lazy, childish ass out of bed. Your aunt and uncle are coming for tea. Do not be late.”
“Yes sir.” Charles mumbles.
His father goes out and Charles falls back against the pillows with a sigh of relief.
Erik pokes his head out from under the bed. “That was close.”
“Get out.” Charles repeats tiredly.
Erik leans on the bed, looking at him. Reaching out a hand, he brushes the hair back from Charles's forehead. “You're safe, Charles.”
Charles wants to lean into that touch, to pull Erik back on the bed and return to what they were doing before his father interrupted them. Instead he sits up. “You should go.” He sits there, awkwardly while Erik starts to get dressed. “And, Erik, remember...”
Erik pauses in buttoning his shirt.“What?”
“Don't call me Charles in public.”
Erik grins. “I'll remember that, sir.”
Charles grins back in spite of himself.
Charles has no time for his usual morning ride. His father keeps him busy, going over paperwork at the house, and then overseeing the gardener's work some more before their visitors arrive that afternoon for tea.
Charles is already in the sitting room when he hears a noise at the window. He looks up to see Erik climbing through the window.
“You shouldn't be in here!” Charles hisses. He can't help glancing worriedly at the door. The visitors will be here any minute, and the last thing he needs is for them walk in on Erik in the sitting room.
“Afraid I'll soil the lace tablecloth, are we?” Erik raises an eyebrow. “I just wanted...” He hesitates.
“Look, just.” Charles freezes as footsteps approach. “Quick, hide.”
Erik looks at the window, but the gardener's out there now, making his way across the lawn. If Erik climbs out, he'll be seen, no doubt about it.
“Under the table!” Charles hisses desperately.
Erik doesn't blink as he ducks under the tablecloth. Fortunately it's long enough to hide him. Charles breathes a nervous sigh of relief, even as he tenses up again as his father enters with their guests, his aunt and uncle.
“Charles, you're looking well.”
Charles smiles dutifully as his aunt kisses him on the cheek.
They take their seats around the table, chatting about the upcoming hunt. It isn't until Charles is reaching for his tea that he feels it. Erik's rubbing his thumb along the inside of Charles's thigh.
“Oh, god,” Charles murmurs under his breath.
His aunt looks at him quizzically, “I beg your pardon, Charles.”
Charles smiles at her weakly. “Apologies.” He's going to kill Erik as soon as tea is over.
Only the stablehand doesn't stop there. He rubs his knuckles teasingly over the growing bulge in Charles's trousers. Charles's fingers clench, crumbling the piece of shortbread he was holding.
“Charles, Charles, you're all thumbs today.” His aunt chides him.
Charles coughs, “Yes. Thumbs.” He reaches nervously for his tea. Which is right when Erik presses his mouth to the front of his trousers and sucks him straight through the material.
“Oh, jesus christ.” Charles mumbles into his tea, coughing. Erik's mouth is moving wickedly upon him and he wants to groan with the pressure rising in his balls. If he comes right here at the table, everyone will notice, won't they?
“Charles, if you can't behave, you will have to leave the table.”
“Unthinkable.” Charles murmurs, resisting the urge to just grind into the mouth on his crotch.
“I beg your pardon?” Lord Xavier stares at his son incredulously.
“Sorry, sir. It's just I'd hate to miss Aunt and Uncle's visit.” Charles smiles weakly. He's doing his best not to shudder. Erik is licking him through his trousers. He's never going to be able to stand up again. This is the worst tea ever. Erik's basically torturing him, his hands on Charles's thighs, while he sucks wetly at Charles's trousers. It's a wonder the whole table can't hear him.
Charles is going to come any minute, as his aunt pours tea and passes more cream buns. He digs his hands into his thighs, then reaches out blindly to grab at Erik's hair. He tugs it, as roughly as he can without drawing attention to the movement. Erik just moves faster, sucking at his cock.
Charles coughs into his tea as he comes, doing his best to disguise his groan.
Erik is going to pay for this.
As as soon as tea is over, Charles tracks Erik down in the stable. “What the hell was that about?”
Erik leans back against the wall, looking quite pleased with himself. “You wanted it.” His eyes dare Charles to deny it.
“And what would have happened if you'd been discovered?” Charles hisses.
“They'd all know how much you like having your cock sucked by a servant.” Erik smirks.
Charles just pushes him against the wall, kissing him hard until Erik's flat against the wall, hands clenched in Charles's shirt, drawing him close. They kiss, rough and hot and needy, until there is no breath left in their body.
Charles knows he looks a proper mess when they finally break apart panting. Knows he should return to the house, that his aunt and uncle will be leaving soon, he really should be joining them for a stroll around the garden. Instead he pushes at Erik's shoulders, pushing him to his knees. “Do it properly now.”
Erik grins as he opens his trousers, drawing out Charles's cock, already hard again, eager at the thought of having Erik's mouth on him. The stablehand's lips are soft and warm on his cock as he teases Charles's head. Charles groans, leaning back against the stable wall, his hands in Erik's hair, urging him on.
“Just like that. Yes, oh god, yes.”
Erik's humming contentedly around his cock, hands slipping round to rest on Charles's ass, pulling him closer until his nose is buried in Charles's pubic hair. His teeth graze carefully along the curve of Charles's cock, making him hiss with pleasure.
Just looking down at the sight of Erik's lips wrapped around his cock is enough to send Charles over the edge, even without the added sensation of his mouth. Oh god, Erik's mouth, the heat of it, pressing closer over his cock, making Charles's balls ache. His fingers tighten in Erik's hair, forcing him to go faster.
“Come on, come on.” He fucks Erik's mouth until he comes finally, streaming down his throat. Erik holds him in his mouth until his cock stops thrusting, his hips slowing at last.
When Charles slips out of Erik's mouth, the last few drops of come dribble over his lips. Erik raises a hand to wipe his mouth, but Charles is faster. He pulls Erik up by the hair.
“Ow.”
“Shut it.” Charles murmurs as he leans in to taste himself on Erik's lips.
Erik kisses him back messily, tongue and teeth and come. He's hard against Charles's thigh. Without a second thought, Charles reaches down to unfasten his trousers. Erik breathes a murmur of half surprise, half pleasure as Charles strokes him lazily, as his mouth lingers on Erik's, never tiring of the taste of himself on Erik's tongue.
There's one more day before they have to depart for Shaw's country estate. Charles wastes the morning trying to think of possible excuses to get out of being married off to the man's daughter (he doesn't care how well she can ride) and coming up with absolutely nothing convincing. There is nothing that is going to work on his father. He's doomed.
He tells himself that this is his excuse for going to find Erik, but the truth of the matter is he no longer needs an excuse and deep down he knows this.
Erik's sitting on a bench in the courtyard, mending a saddle. He looks up as Charles approaches, but doesn't speak.
“Meet me in the orchard.” Charles tells Erik, who just nods. There's something off about the stablehand's expression. He looks...dissatisfied, as though it pains him to look at Charles. Charles considers this as he goes the long way around the house to reach the orchard.
“What is it?” Charles demands when he finds Erik pacing beneath the apple trees.
“You think you can purchase anything you damn want, don't you?” Erik sneers at him coldly. “That all you have to do is show some coin and it's yours.”
Considering Charles has never offered Erik money, he thinks this is a bit rich. “And you think you can say whatever you like,” Charles retorts. “The world doesn't work like that.”
“What do I care for the rules of the world?” Erik says bitterly. “Those rules say I must bow my head when my betters pass, do what I'm told, take what I'm given, be grateful.” Each harsh word makes Charles flinch. This isn't what he came for. Why does Erik have to ruin everything?
“Perhaps you should be grateful.” Charles starts.
Erik's hands are on his wrists before he can speak any more, holding him tightly, pressing him down into the grass. Charles struggles but Erik is stronger, holding him in place. He climbs atop Charles, straddling him tightly. Charles thrashes under him, but Erik slaps him. The blow shocks Charles into anger. He punches Erik hard in the stomach and Erik reels backward.
They wrestle across the grass, grappling for a hold on each other. Erik's hands pull at Charles's body roughly. “You want it.”
“Shut your mouth.” Charles says helplessly. But the man is right. He does want it.
Erik grinds against him, biting at his lip. “You want it, but you're ashamed of me, ashamed of wanting to fuck a man like me, a man that you consider beneath you.” He grinds harder, forcing Charles to cry out.
“What does it matter?” Charles gasps. “It's not like you're any fonder of my position than you are of mine.” He knows Erik thinks he's a spoiled rich arsehole. He can see it in the man's eyes.
“You're right, it doesn't matter.” Erik moves off Charles, only to keep him pinned between his legs as he works Charles's trousers down.
“What're you doing?” Charles struggles.
“Hold still.” Erik slaps his ass. It's an awkward angle, but he makes it sting. Charles wiggles but Erik has him firmly trapped as he smacks him again, and again and again. Charles yelps as the pain starts spreading over the skin.
“How dare you!”
Erik only smacks him harder, the flat of his hand making Charles rock forward. Erik repeats it, until Charles is no longer squirming, and his ass is rosy red. He's too sore to move, there are tears in his eyes. Erik licks his fingers before sliding them between Charles's sore cheeks.
“Gahhh,” Charles winces as Erik rubs his forefinger over his hole. “Erik.”
“Shh.” Erik strokes his hole until Charles's head has sunk down to rest on his arms, his ass practically in the air, begging for Erik to fuck him.
“Erik.” Charles whimpers
Erik widens his fingers, stretching him. Charles keens as Erik pulls his fingers out, only to replace it with his thumb, pushing in thickly.
God, what he must look like, as Erik works his thumb in his ass...Charles bites his lip to keep from begging. It would be so easy. He's never been more humiliated in his life, but there's no way he's going to tell Erik to stop.
Erik pulls his thumb out, leans in and spits right on Charles's hole. While he's still trying to fathom that, this servant who apparently thinks he has the right to spit on him, Erik presses his cock to Charles's entrance, thrusting in easily. It burns and Charles wants to pull away. Erik pulls at Charles's hips, working him back on his cock until it's buried in Charles's ass “There you go. Just like that. Now fuck yourself on my cock.”
“Erik.”
“Do it.” Erik slaps his ass again, a reminder of what he's already done to Charles. Shakily, Charles pushes himself up on his hands, jerking his hips backward. It hurts, but oh god, it feels like heaven too. Erik is rubbing his hands over Charles's ass, squeezing and stroking the reddened skin.
“You're going to think of me, that whole long ride over to Shaw's house. And during the hunt. That's all you'll be able to think about. How I took you out here for anyone to see.”
Charles groans as he comes helplessly over the grass without Erik even touching him. Erik just keeps palming his ass. The fire's not subsiding, and then, christ, Erik comes inside him, filling him, making Charles shudder all over as he collapses in the grass.
He's a fucking mess, covered in shame and come.
Erik's hand strokes along his spine soothingly. “You're a right pretty picture like this, you know that?”
“Be quiet.” Charles mutters.
Erik's hand stills. Then there's the softest breath of a sigh, and Erik pulls out of him, leaving a trail of come seeping out Charles. Charles knows he should get up, clean himself off and leave. Instead he lies there, half naked in the grass, wondering how on earth he came to this.