(no subject)
Title: Good Boys, Chapter 14
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Rating: NC-17
Genre: first time! road trip!
WC: 2200
A/N: Finally. Or, for people who remember the first chapter, "once more, with feeling(s)"!
They were sitting on the bed facing each other, Charles’ legs entwined with Erik’s and Erik’s arm around his waist, and Charles could still taste himself on Erik’s lips whenever they kissed. They had been making love slowly and with a surprising caution; the last mutant was collected and the CIA, still scraping for a lead on Shaw, had suggested they take their time getting back and without even needing to look at Erik for confirmation Charles had booked a hotel and if they’d gotten out of bed at all Charles couldn’t remember when it had been. He thought he could recite Erik’s body blindfolded.
Around the room were the detritus of two days’ coupling - a crossword puzzle and a pile of discarded clothes, Erik’s turtlenecks draped casually over his sweaters the way Erik’s body casually draped over his when they lay tired, spent and sticky, Erik’s chin nesting in the crook of his shoulder and Erik’s lips brushing his ear whenever he spoke.
“I know why you won’t, Charles,” Erik had said the night previous, after they’d come painfully close. “It’s because you think if you did you wouldn’t be able to stop. You still have this idea that somehow you’ll be able to stop.”
“No, that’s what you think,” Charles murmured.
“I don’t want to fuck you to prove a point, Charles,” Erik said, planting a kiss in his hair. “I want to fuck you because you want me to.” Charles swallowed. “And I know you do, Charles. It’s almost painfully obvious.”
Charles had flushed. “What makes you think that?” he muttered.
“Charles look at you,” Erik said, and Charles admitted that his position might have been stronger had he not been lying face-down on the bed between Erik’s thighs, Erik’s arms stretched over his and their fingers entwined. But they still hadn't.
He had found himself telling Erik everything - Westchester and Oxford and things he’d thought about and dreams he’d had -- it was easy to talk, they could talk for hours and argue and then one of Erik’s hands would steal towards the juncture of his legs or he would arch his neck and kiss Erik on the shoulder and then the argument would dissolve unresolved into the air.
It was harder to get Erik to talk about himself. Charles had begun cheating. It was not strictly cheating - he asked, and Erik gave him one of those too-casual nods, but he could feel his whole body tense. And then he was inside the strange riot of Erik’s mind, feeling around, most of it a bit dark, some of it pitch-black, with astonishing pockets of brightness around Mama and a few strange faces and then Charles. He was already being woven into the fabric of a great many places, and it was gratifying and terrifying.
He was inside Erik's mind now, brow furrowed a little with concentration.
This time Erik wanted him to see the horrible things that went on in the camps. He let Erik’s mind pull him in and Erik snarled, “I don’t want your pity, Charles, but it's something you ought to see.” But there was never pity in Charles’ eyes when he looked at Erik, he knew that, Erik was so unaccountably strong and it was a curious mixture of sadness and admiration and wonder and - anger, he was startled how angry it made him that anyone would have done this. The pain was impossible for anyone to bear without bending.
Now he sat there seeing the horror of it and finding that he had made a mental catalogue of everyone who had ever hurt Erik and thought, If I ever find them, they won’t ever know what happened to them, they’re going to pay. Somehow someone has to make this right, and I can’t even begin to -
Erik looked at him.
And in spite of it, you, Charles thought, there’s so much of you that’s whole and perfect and good, how did you manage it, I couldn’t have managed it.
Charles caught Erik’s arm by the wrist, turning it so the appalling number was visible. Then he bent and pressed his lips to it. Erik shuddered and his eyes widened. The gesture felt more terrifyingly intimate than any touch they had attempted before. There was an overpowering surge of emotion from Erik; he glanced over and saw as in a snowglobe the image of himself, naked, pale limbs tangled with Erik’s, dark head bending and lips reverently pressed to Erik’s arm, and felt the sad awful tangle of memory and something like fear, fear mingled with lust and wonder, and the thought, If anyone hurts his little finger I’ll break them.
“That’s the closest I’ve come to not hating that,” Erik said. “Charles.”
They kissed slowly and carefully, Erik’s fingers steady on the side of Charles’ face and in his hair, a strange new electric current humming between them. “Charles,” Erik said again. “You’re-perfect,” and Charles heard, “I love you,” and Charles opened his eyes and looked at him and he could tell Erik knew.
Charles kissed him. Then he pulled back and looked at Erik. “Please,” he said, and swallowed. He had said it almost without thinking, but when Erik’s eyes flickered up to his he didn’t look away. “Take me, Erik. All of me.”
Erik’s hand roved down to cup his buttocks, and Charles held his gaze. “Everything,” he murmured. "That."
Erik laughed. “What a good boy you are, Charles. You would wait until - I’d showed my hand.”
“If you still want to,” Charles said, leaning down and kissing Erik’s neck. The air in the room seemed to have changed somehow. He was flushing to the roots of his hair but the words kept pouring out, his eyes fixed on Erik. “Please. Fuck me. As hard as you like. Do everything to me, Erik. I don’t care how filthy it is. I want it. From you. I - I always have, I think. I don’t care if it hurts. I almost want it to hurt. I want to feel you in me, Erik. Ruin me. I can’t stand another second not being ruined. Please.”
Erik was looking at him. “Charles be careful,” he said. “You’re going to make me come just talking.”
“Good,” Charles said, and tugged Erik down on top of him. Their eyes locked.
“Charles please don’t try to pretend you aren’t mine when we get back to civilization,” Erik said, the need evident in his tone. “Promise me.”
“Do you really think I could?” Charles asked curiously, holding Erik’s gaze.
“You could do anything,” Erik said. Charles was amazed by how vulnerable he suddenly sounded, could feel in Erik’s mind that somewhere between food and air was the category “Charles” - talking to him and not looking at him or talking and looking or letting his hand find Erik’s under a table or casually touching his knee as they played chess or laughing his strangely assured older-sounding laugh or quivering between his thighs and crying his name or waking up next to him or using his mutation or kissing him, mouth latching onto his like finding another limb, saw himself catalogued behind Erik’s eyes, inch by inch of his body and the shades of color that stood in his cheeks or in his eyes, his hair, his mouth, his voice - and Charles blinked, a little dazed, because he’d thought he might be alone in storing up a secret cache of images like that.
“Please,” he said, and Erik reached down and stroked his temple with two fingers and Charles leaned into the touch and pushed into Erik’s mind, a string of images of the two of them and the warm tangle of emotions at the base of his stomach, and Erik whispered, “Then here’s what we’re going to do, Charles, I’m going to fuck you so many ways you won’t be able to get up from this bed.”
Charles laughed, feeling a nervous fluttering begin somewhere in his chest. “All right.”
Erik clambered over him to the bedside table and got the stuff and shot him a look that made the pit of his stomach dance.
Charles stretched out, head resting on his arms, and looked up at him, and Erik grinned, “Charles you look like I could break you in half and you wouldn’t mind.”
“I hope you aren’t planning to,” Charles murmured, feeling a little shiver of anticipation ripple through his whole body, and Erik knelt with one knee on either side of Charles’ leg and muttered, “Tell me what you want, Charles.”
Erik leaned over and kissed the back of his neck and ran a hand through his hair, and Charles shivered against him. Then Erik began kissing his way slowly and carefully down Charles’ back and Charles murmured, “Erik,” and Erik laughed against the curve of his spine and murmured, “Charles, don’t worry, teasing you any longer would be against my interests too” and kissed his way down so that Charles could feel his breath ghosting over his entrance, “Although this has proved a surprisingly entrancing pursuit,” and then Erik’s mouth had sealed over him and he writhed into the bed, gasping.
Finally Erik pulled back and their eyes locked and he heard, You blush like a virgin, Charles, I think you always will, and Erik had coated his fingers into the stuff and slipped one very carefully into Charles. Charles nodded.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” Erik muttered.
“You aren’t,” Charles said, smiling up at him, his breaths coming a little faster and raggedly, and Erik slid another finger into him and he felt his body stretch a little to accommodate the intrusion and gasped.
“Breathe,” Erik said.
“Give me a moment,” Charles hissed, aware how fast his pulse was racing. It felt-different, having Erik there, and Erik’s eyes on his were almost meltingly hot, like Erik couldn’t look away even if he’d wanted to, and then Erik had slipped another finger into him and hit something and Charles gasped and his eyes shot open and he was shoving back against Erik’s hand, liking it, and Erik grinned, “Found something you like, Charles?” and Charles nodded and shifted against the touch and hissed, “Fuck, Erik,” and Erik’s fingers worked carefully inside him, hitting it again, and he bucked into the sheets and choked, “Erik, please, I want you now” and Erik slipped his fingers free and Charles found he was whimpering. Erik coated his fingers in more of the stuff and slid the hand along his length and Charles could feel his breaths coming hard and fast and uneven and knew that there was an absolutely devouring lust in his eyes. “Now, Erik,” he muttered.
“Wait, Charles,” Erik hissed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He pulled Charles up and muttered, “I want to see you. Get on top,” and Charles gasped, “All right” and climbed a little awkwardly onto his lap, straddling Erik, so hard he could barely think, his entire body crying out to feel Erik there again, and Erik caught him by the waist and held him. He lowered himself carefully onto Erik’s cock and hissed, “Fuck,” his eyes flickering shut, and Erik said, “All right Charles?” his voice rough so it almost didn’t sound like a question and Charles bit his lip and nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and shoved his hips down, wanting more of Erik more than anything, and hissed, “Don’t-- look at me like you think I might - break, Erik, please - fuck me,” and Erik began thrusting into him, carefully at first, sliding deeper into him until Charles shut his eyes and gasped, “That,” and then they were thrusting together, and he’d muttered, “All of you, Erik, I want all of you,” and shoved down farther, wincing a little but his eyes alight and - hungry, and Erik looked at him with that warm indefinable something in his eyes and without a thought their mouths came together and Erik groaned “You feel perfect, Charles, God, you have no idea,” into his mouth and he gasped, “Erik, God, Erik,” and kissed him again, and then their mouths had severed and he was panting and shoving back against him, and Erik lifted his hips and thrust into him again, and Charles let out a sound he didn’t realize he was capable of making. His hands tightened on Erik’s shoulders and he heard himself choking out, “Erik, want you so fucking much,” heard the thought, you’re magnificent like this, Charles, you're insane, I should have fucked you every day since the instant we met, and his eyes flickered shut and he thrust against Erik again, arching his neck, and Erik muttered, “You like having me inside you, don’t you, Charles” and Charles couldn’t think of any words, just panted, “Erik,” and let out an entirely undignified moan and Erik laughed and kissed him.
Afterwards they lay tangled together and Erik kissed his way thoughtfully over Charles’ entire body and Charles felt sated and - oddly beautiful and - desperate to do it again and that was how it went all night.
Chapter 15
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Rating: NC-17
Genre: first time! road trip!
WC: 2200
A/N: Finally. Or, for people who remember the first chapter, "once more, with feeling(s)"!
They were sitting on the bed facing each other, Charles’ legs entwined with Erik’s and Erik’s arm around his waist, and Charles could still taste himself on Erik’s lips whenever they kissed. They had been making love slowly and with a surprising caution; the last mutant was collected and the CIA, still scraping for a lead on Shaw, had suggested they take their time getting back and without even needing to look at Erik for confirmation Charles had booked a hotel and if they’d gotten out of bed at all Charles couldn’t remember when it had been. He thought he could recite Erik’s body blindfolded.
Around the room were the detritus of two days’ coupling - a crossword puzzle and a pile of discarded clothes, Erik’s turtlenecks draped casually over his sweaters the way Erik’s body casually draped over his when they lay tired, spent and sticky, Erik’s chin nesting in the crook of his shoulder and Erik’s lips brushing his ear whenever he spoke.
“I know why you won’t, Charles,” Erik had said the night previous, after they’d come painfully close. “It’s because you think if you did you wouldn’t be able to stop. You still have this idea that somehow you’ll be able to stop.”
“No, that’s what you think,” Charles murmured.
“I don’t want to fuck you to prove a point, Charles,” Erik said, planting a kiss in his hair. “I want to fuck you because you want me to.” Charles swallowed. “And I know you do, Charles. It’s almost painfully obvious.”
Charles had flushed. “What makes you think that?” he muttered.
“Charles look at you,” Erik said, and Charles admitted that his position might have been stronger had he not been lying face-down on the bed between Erik’s thighs, Erik’s arms stretched over his and their fingers entwined. But they still hadn't.
He had found himself telling Erik everything - Westchester and Oxford and things he’d thought about and dreams he’d had -- it was easy to talk, they could talk for hours and argue and then one of Erik’s hands would steal towards the juncture of his legs or he would arch his neck and kiss Erik on the shoulder and then the argument would dissolve unresolved into the air.
It was harder to get Erik to talk about himself. Charles had begun cheating. It was not strictly cheating - he asked, and Erik gave him one of those too-casual nods, but he could feel his whole body tense. And then he was inside the strange riot of Erik’s mind, feeling around, most of it a bit dark, some of it pitch-black, with astonishing pockets of brightness around Mama and a few strange faces and then Charles. He was already being woven into the fabric of a great many places, and it was gratifying and terrifying.
He was inside Erik's mind now, brow furrowed a little with concentration.
This time Erik wanted him to see the horrible things that went on in the camps. He let Erik’s mind pull him in and Erik snarled, “I don’t want your pity, Charles, but it's something you ought to see.” But there was never pity in Charles’ eyes when he looked at Erik, he knew that, Erik was so unaccountably strong and it was a curious mixture of sadness and admiration and wonder and - anger, he was startled how angry it made him that anyone would have done this. The pain was impossible for anyone to bear without bending.
Now he sat there seeing the horror of it and finding that he had made a mental catalogue of everyone who had ever hurt Erik and thought, If I ever find them, they won’t ever know what happened to them, they’re going to pay. Somehow someone has to make this right, and I can’t even begin to -
Erik looked at him.
And in spite of it, you, Charles thought, there’s so much of you that’s whole and perfect and good, how did you manage it, I couldn’t have managed it.
Charles caught Erik’s arm by the wrist, turning it so the appalling number was visible. Then he bent and pressed his lips to it. Erik shuddered and his eyes widened. The gesture felt more terrifyingly intimate than any touch they had attempted before. There was an overpowering surge of emotion from Erik; he glanced over and saw as in a snowglobe the image of himself, naked, pale limbs tangled with Erik’s, dark head bending and lips reverently pressed to Erik’s arm, and felt the sad awful tangle of memory and something like fear, fear mingled with lust and wonder, and the thought, If anyone hurts his little finger I’ll break them.
“That’s the closest I’ve come to not hating that,” Erik said. “Charles.”
They kissed slowly and carefully, Erik’s fingers steady on the side of Charles’ face and in his hair, a strange new electric current humming between them. “Charles,” Erik said again. “You’re-perfect,” and Charles heard, “I love you,” and Charles opened his eyes and looked at him and he could tell Erik knew.
Charles kissed him. Then he pulled back and looked at Erik. “Please,” he said, and swallowed. He had said it almost without thinking, but when Erik’s eyes flickered up to his he didn’t look away. “Take me, Erik. All of me.”
Erik’s hand roved down to cup his buttocks, and Charles held his gaze. “Everything,” he murmured. "That."
Erik laughed. “What a good boy you are, Charles. You would wait until - I’d showed my hand.”
“If you still want to,” Charles said, leaning down and kissing Erik’s neck. The air in the room seemed to have changed somehow. He was flushing to the roots of his hair but the words kept pouring out, his eyes fixed on Erik. “Please. Fuck me. As hard as you like. Do everything to me, Erik. I don’t care how filthy it is. I want it. From you. I - I always have, I think. I don’t care if it hurts. I almost want it to hurt. I want to feel you in me, Erik. Ruin me. I can’t stand another second not being ruined. Please.”
Erik was looking at him. “Charles be careful,” he said. “You’re going to make me come just talking.”
“Good,” Charles said, and tugged Erik down on top of him. Their eyes locked.
“Charles please don’t try to pretend you aren’t mine when we get back to civilization,” Erik said, the need evident in his tone. “Promise me.”
“Do you really think I could?” Charles asked curiously, holding Erik’s gaze.
“You could do anything,” Erik said. Charles was amazed by how vulnerable he suddenly sounded, could feel in Erik’s mind that somewhere between food and air was the category “Charles” - talking to him and not looking at him or talking and looking or letting his hand find Erik’s under a table or casually touching his knee as they played chess or laughing his strangely assured older-sounding laugh or quivering between his thighs and crying his name or waking up next to him or using his mutation or kissing him, mouth latching onto his like finding another limb, saw himself catalogued behind Erik’s eyes, inch by inch of his body and the shades of color that stood in his cheeks or in his eyes, his hair, his mouth, his voice - and Charles blinked, a little dazed, because he’d thought he might be alone in storing up a secret cache of images like that.
“Please,” he said, and Erik reached down and stroked his temple with two fingers and Charles leaned into the touch and pushed into Erik’s mind, a string of images of the two of them and the warm tangle of emotions at the base of his stomach, and Erik whispered, “Then here’s what we’re going to do, Charles, I’m going to fuck you so many ways you won’t be able to get up from this bed.”
Charles laughed, feeling a nervous fluttering begin somewhere in his chest. “All right.”
Erik clambered over him to the bedside table and got the stuff and shot him a look that made the pit of his stomach dance.
Charles stretched out, head resting on his arms, and looked up at him, and Erik grinned, “Charles you look like I could break you in half and you wouldn’t mind.”
“I hope you aren’t planning to,” Charles murmured, feeling a little shiver of anticipation ripple through his whole body, and Erik knelt with one knee on either side of Charles’ leg and muttered, “Tell me what you want, Charles.”
Erik leaned over and kissed the back of his neck and ran a hand through his hair, and Charles shivered against him. Then Erik began kissing his way slowly and carefully down Charles’ back and Charles murmured, “Erik,” and Erik laughed against the curve of his spine and murmured, “Charles, don’t worry, teasing you any longer would be against my interests too” and kissed his way down so that Charles could feel his breath ghosting over his entrance, “Although this has proved a surprisingly entrancing pursuit,” and then Erik’s mouth had sealed over him and he writhed into the bed, gasping.
Finally Erik pulled back and their eyes locked and he heard, You blush like a virgin, Charles, I think you always will, and Erik had coated his fingers into the stuff and slipped one very carefully into Charles. Charles nodded.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” Erik muttered.
“You aren’t,” Charles said, smiling up at him, his breaths coming a little faster and raggedly, and Erik slid another finger into him and he felt his body stretch a little to accommodate the intrusion and gasped.
“Breathe,” Erik said.
“Give me a moment,” Charles hissed, aware how fast his pulse was racing. It felt-different, having Erik there, and Erik’s eyes on his were almost meltingly hot, like Erik couldn’t look away even if he’d wanted to, and then Erik had slipped another finger into him and hit something and Charles gasped and his eyes shot open and he was shoving back against Erik’s hand, liking it, and Erik grinned, “Found something you like, Charles?” and Charles nodded and shifted against the touch and hissed, “Fuck, Erik,” and Erik’s fingers worked carefully inside him, hitting it again, and he bucked into the sheets and choked, “Erik, please, I want you now” and Erik slipped his fingers free and Charles found he was whimpering. Erik coated his fingers in more of the stuff and slid the hand along his length and Charles could feel his breaths coming hard and fast and uneven and knew that there was an absolutely devouring lust in his eyes. “Now, Erik,” he muttered.
“Wait, Charles,” Erik hissed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He pulled Charles up and muttered, “I want to see you. Get on top,” and Charles gasped, “All right” and climbed a little awkwardly onto his lap, straddling Erik, so hard he could barely think, his entire body crying out to feel Erik there again, and Erik caught him by the waist and held him. He lowered himself carefully onto Erik’s cock and hissed, “Fuck,” his eyes flickering shut, and Erik said, “All right Charles?” his voice rough so it almost didn’t sound like a question and Charles bit his lip and nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and shoved his hips down, wanting more of Erik more than anything, and hissed, “Don’t-- look at me like you think I might - break, Erik, please - fuck me,” and Erik began thrusting into him, carefully at first, sliding deeper into him until Charles shut his eyes and gasped, “That,” and then they were thrusting together, and he’d muttered, “All of you, Erik, I want all of you,” and shoved down farther, wincing a little but his eyes alight and - hungry, and Erik looked at him with that warm indefinable something in his eyes and without a thought their mouths came together and Erik groaned “You feel perfect, Charles, God, you have no idea,” into his mouth and he gasped, “Erik, God, Erik,” and kissed him again, and then their mouths had severed and he was panting and shoving back against him, and Erik lifted his hips and thrust into him again, and Charles let out a sound he didn’t realize he was capable of making. His hands tightened on Erik’s shoulders and he heard himself choking out, “Erik, want you so fucking much,” heard the thought, you’re magnificent like this, Charles, you're insane, I should have fucked you every day since the instant we met, and his eyes flickered shut and he thrust against Erik again, arching his neck, and Erik muttered, “You like having me inside you, don’t you, Charles” and Charles couldn’t think of any words, just panted, “Erik,” and let out an entirely undignified moan and Erik laughed and kissed him.
Afterwards they lay tangled together and Erik kissed his way thoughtfully over Charles’ entire body and Charles felt sated and - oddly beautiful and - desperate to do it again and that was how it went all night.
Chapter 15