The never-ending chess game (closed to Erik)

[mutiegroovy]

They had kept up with what all three had agreed to and that was having dinner together a few nights in a week. Erik found himself anticipating those nights where he was able to spend time with both Anna and Charles. In turn, those two were becoming, what he would like to think, good friends.

Tonight was one of those nights.

He had a bag with him, filled with food to prepare, his other hand held a bottle of wine to complement the meal. He knocked on Charles's door, early, because they were going to try and finish that chess game still ongoing before they both work in the kitchen to fix their meal.

"Charles? It's Erik." He waited, almost tempted to use his abilities to open the door.

"Hello, Erik," Charles called. "You can let yourself in." He stood from his dezk, stretching. He was preparing lesson plans, finding it very satisfying.

One flick of his wrist and the door unlocked then creaked open to let him in. Erik grinned as his eyes found his friend. "Dutiful as always, Charles," he greeted as he lifted his laden hands.

"And thoughtful as always." Charles moved to help ease Erik's load. "What is it we're having this evening?"

"Salad, a stir-fry." Erik leaned closer, grinning toothily at Charles. "And you are going to help me." They put the dinner fixings in Charles's kitchen. "After our chess game which I will win, again," he teased.

"Your arrogance will be your downfall," Charles chuckled. He helped store what needed to be stored then he led Erik to the board where they sat. "As I recall, it was your move.

They settled in comfortable chairs, the board between them, Erik leaning with his elbows on his knees, focused on the board. He moved a rook then leaned back. "Classes will start soon. Are you ... anxious?" The focus was now on Charles.

"I'm excited," Charles replied. "Eager to see if I can indeed be a professor, instead of one in title only." He moved, taking one of Erik's pawn with a small smile.

The move freed his bishop to take one of Charles's rooks. Erik smirked. "I really should start calling you Professor," he grinned at Charles. "It does suit you, as long as no one else sees you drunk," he teased.

"Oy!" But Charles grinned. He moved a bishop. "You can even call me Professor after I've had a yard. It would be ironic, however."

"Exactly." Erik laughed. "I am glad that you're following your calling, my friend. Even here." He was staring right into Charles's eyes, his own open, warm.

"And, I am glad you have found …" Charles looked back, bringing up a subject he'd been wanting to address. "Anna?"

Ah. Erik nodded his head slowly, leaning back on the chair, his legs crossing as he settled. "Yes, Anna. She is very special as I'm sure you can see. And I have you. There are many things here that makes me forget why I was so--" Angry. Erik let the words fade with a shake of his head.

"She brings out the best in you, it seems," Charles noted, his own legs crossed, chin in his hand. There was a gentleness to Erik that Anna seemed to bring out. "She came by my office the other day, bringing me soup from when you'd had your lunch. That was very kind."

"Like I said, she's special." But the expression on Erik's face was almost beaming. "There is nothing I would want more than for you and Anna to get along and get along well, Charles." He meant that sincerely. "Which is why I thoroughly enjoy our get-togethers. Immensely."

There was a warmth to what Erik said that gave Charles a moment of pause and he felt his cheeks heat for some reason before he said, "You are a lucky fellow. And Raven is engaged as well." And Charles was … well.

"I want to say that it wasn't luck at all," Erik said with a small smile, his eyes not leaving Charles. "I practically pestered the poor woman," he laughed. "She says I'm very determined. Which to me means I'm a stubborn bastard." It was, Erik would admit, true.

"But how did you meet her?" Charles asked, curious. "And tell me," he said teasingly. "Was it love at first sight?"

"I saw her on the street looking lost. I gave her a job cleaning the pub and there was nothing between us. At all. Until that one weekend --" Erik looked directly at Charles now. "I'm not sure if you were … affected … but that weekend, something seemed to have taken over us and we - well … let's just say that that weekend could have been the reason we had little Charles …"

"Oh." Well. Charles had two reasons to blush, then, as he recalled that weekend as well. "I see." He looked at the board, unaccustomed to such open talk. "I am glad for you, Erik." If not feeling a small bit sorry for himself.

"Erik wasn't one to talk quiet so openly either but there were two reasons he did so. One, there was no other way to tell Charles about Anna, and two, this was Charles. Erik knew he could tell his friend anything. "Are you sure nothing happened to you that week-end?"

It would be less than honest for Charles to deny it, especially with how open Erik was being. "I … did have a liaison," he admitted. "With a friend, I suppose." Though he and Draco, now, were hardly friends. He blushed more brightly.

"Well, well, well. Charles. This is a surprise." Erik leaned in closer, the waiting chess board forgotten. "Are we going to meet this friend?"

"We aren't, no." And Charles wasn't defensive, it was simply fact. The meeting with Draco after the event had been disconcerting to say the least. "It was the very definition of a one-night stand, I suppose."

Erik was quiet, watching Charles carefully, nodding his head. "If you're all right with it, I'm okay with it, too," Erik told him. His way of saying he respected Charles's decision and will no longer mention although he couldn't help being concerned. "Besides, you have me," he teased. "...and by extension, Anna as well." Raven was already obvious. "It's why we have these dinners."

"And for that, I am very grateful, Erik." Charles was entirely sincere. "Truly. And Anna is lovely, really." He smiled. "Though I do believe it is your move."

Erik looked at the chess board and then he shook his head. "It is but alas," and he made a show of saying it, "we have to start preparing dinner." His hands were steepled on front of his lips to hide the smile.

"Perhaps you think I was too close to beating you," Charles teased, grinning. "Shall I open the wine?"

"Please do," Erik got up and clapped Charles on the shoulder. "The game can wait another few days. We'll see who will win. Eventually." They walked together toward the kitchen.

It was comfortable, this. Charles found himself smiling as he opened the bottle and poured. "You always choose good wines," he complimented after a taste.

"It helps to own a pub and to be trained by Shaw. I had to learn everything, Charles. From wine to languages, to seduction to mentally dismantling a gun -- but since you've been in my head, I'm sure you know that already." Said in a voice that spoke matter-of-factly. There was no room for his anger here. Not today. Not now. Not ever, if he could help it.

Still, it gave Charles pause. He looked at his friend, but not at his thoughts. "You are a better man than Shaw will ever be," he said quietly, with certainty. "One I am proud to call my friend."

It was Erik's turn to be taken aback. He stared at Charles for a long moment and then slowly he smiled, cheeks slightly flushed that he looked away. "Thank you, Charles." And maybe his voice came out just a little tight. "The feeling is mutual."

Gently, Charles reached out to squeeze Erik's shoulder and smile a bit. "Let's make ourselves supper, shall we?"

"Yes … yes." Erik was grinning and nodding, putting his own arm around Charles in a tight, one-armed hug. "I would like your help in cutting up the vegetables? Or you can start the salad?" But Erik didn't yet let Charles go.

It was warm and comforting as well as something else Charles didn't assess. He nodded. "I can chop, yes. Just show me what to chop."

Erik pulled things from the bag he brought, laying it out on the counter for Charles. "Just don't chop your fingers off. You don't have that ability to regenerate," he teased.

"True," Charles chuckled. "And how would I read minds if I couldn't do this?" Fingers to his temple, playfully before he set to chopping.

"Ah, yes. Yet another reason to make sure you keep those fingers." Erik was busying himself with finding a pan to make the stir-fry. "Unless you get one of those things," he stopped and made a hook with his finger, "from Peter Pan."

"I couldn't be trusted with a hook for a hand," Charles chuckled. "Might gouge my own eyes out or something equally as tragic." He did chop carefully, however.

When Erik laughed, he leaned in closer to Charles, looking at his eyes. "Tragic," he agreed with a nod. "Anna would probably agree. She's one who wants to learn to cook, too, I believe. I should have asked her to come earlier, too."

"I'm sorry to keep you from her," Charles said, though he wasn't, not really. He smiled. "Isn't it interesting, what the village does, bringing people from all over. Her life, here, is nearly a polar opposite of what it was where she was from, from what I've been able to discern." Of course, Erik would know much more.

Perhaps it was time to reveal the rest of it and, without looking away from what Erik himself was preparing, he said, "she's married."

"She's … beg pardon?" Charles laid down the knife, looking wide-eyed at Erik. "Married, you say."

Erik slowly turned to Charles, laying down his knife as well, hip leaning on the counter, arms crossing over his chest. "Yes, she is, Charles. To a Mr. John Bates."

Charles opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. It was almost as if he could hear Raven in his head, about how he could be uptight. Rather priggish. "... and what will you do if this Mr. Bates shows up in the village, Erik?" He asked, quietly, seriously.

Oh, Erik had thought long and hard about it. Spent many a nights awake, some nights with Anna right beside him and he watched, and thought about it, as she slept soundly.

To Charles, he shook his head. "That's, ultimately, a decision that Anna would have to make. I, of course, would rather she stay with me." Charles would notice the way that Erik's jaw tightened when he said that. "Other than that, there is nothing I could do."

Once again, Charles touched Erik's arm. Perhaps it said a great deal that he hadn't been close to a woman and especially not enough to think of situations like these. But he felt for Erik. How difficult this must be. "Has she spoken of it?"

"Some. Just like I barely said anything about my past, about Shaw," and the people he'd gone after, killed. "It doesn't seem to matter here, Charles." Erik put his hand over Charles's on his arm, accepting the comfort given, the reassurance. "This place - it allows us to live any life we want."

"True." And Erik was living it. Charles admired that. He was, in many ways, playing it very safe, teaching, and the like. "If you are happy, and she is happy, then I, too, am happy."

"Happy - for now." Erik went closer to Charles, putting an arm around his shoulder, appreciating how he was there for Erik. It was a definite reason why things had been so different for him here. "I'll be happier if you're happy Charles. It works both ways. You have to tell me what would make you happy, not just - content."

Feeling his cheeks heat, Charles looked down and shook his head. He didn't know so how could he answer? "Perhaps when I know," he promised.

"When you know, you'll tell me." He gently clapped Charles in the back hand gripping his shoulder. "I'm here, Charles ... don't forget that. My door is always open especially for you." Erik's touch lingered as he looked right at Charles, their gazes locked because he meant every word.

"Thank you, Erik," Charles replied, just as sincerely, even with flushed cheeks. Then, with a smile, he went back to chopping.

Supper was quiet and genial. As seemed to be usual, they didn't get back to that chess game.