Chapter Text
The first time Erik drew the comparison was completely by accident. In truth, he didn’t know how he had first heard of the story; Le Petit Prince had been written after World War Two and Erik had no time for stories (especially ones for children) in his manhunt for Shaw. However, the book happened to be one of Charles’s favorites, and, after finding it in the mansion’s expansive library, something inexplicable had made him take it off the shelf and into his bedroom.
Now, as he sat reading in an armchair in his dimly lit room, he found himself identifying with the Little Prince. The Little Prince lived on his own planet, isolated and lonely from a very young age. Erik, who prided himself on having a very firm grasp of what was reality and what was fiction, dismissed these gnawing comparisons by brushing a hand quickly over his face before continuing to read.
I am merely reading this book because I am tired from training and I deserve some entertainment, Erik thought to himself. Charles recommended it to me, and I respect Charles’s judgment. In all actuality, Charles had only mentioned the book in an off-hand manner during one of their nightly chess games, but Erik chose to ignore this elaboration and instead focused all his energy on the words in front of him.
He did not realize just how much he was enjoying himself or how much of himself he had projected onto the character of the Little Prince until he found his rose. Immediately, Erik thought of Charles. His fragile, naïve, English rose- the blush that crept up Charles’s cheeks every time their hands would brush when Charles handed him his tumbler of scotch, or when Charles would encouragingly pat him on the arm or back after a particularly productive day of training. Then an image of Charles surfaced, one that Erik had secretly fantasized and tucked into the back of his mind; Charles blushing as he pulled away slowly after his and Erik’s lips had crashed together over the chessboard, outside after a training session, in Charles’s bedroom…
Erik snapped the book shut and blinked profusely to try and erase the image from his mind. This simply would not do. He pushed himself wearily out of his armchair, opened the door with a flick of his fingers, and trudged outside to the duck pond that rested on the fringe of the hedge maze. An ornate fountain, bronze and in the shape of several cherubs in vague romantic poses stood in the center, gently bubbling water from the lips and arrow-points of the figures. Erik frowned at the ridiculousness of it.
Flexing his fingers and planting his feet squarely apart for balance, he began to exert his powers on the pathetic excuse for art in front of him. Slowly, the fountain began to liquefy, revoltingly sweet expressions on the angels faces melting into their bodies and bows and arrows until all that was left was a floating bronze shapeless mass hovering over the water. He was so concentrated on his work that he didn’t notice he wasn’t alone.
“More training already, my friend?” a silky voice asked from several feet behind him and to his left.
Erik spun around. There was a loud splash as what used to be the fountain fell into the pond. “Charles!”
Charles’s hands flew up in a gesture of peace. “Sorry! Sorry! I thought you sensed me. I guess you were just too focused on destroying family heirlooms…”
Erik looked over his shoulder. There was still a giant ripple spreading out from where the statue had stood just moments before. Charles walked up by his side and looked out at the water, his eyes sparkling.
“I guess I should be thanking you,” he said, grinning conspiratorially. “It was quite hideous.”
Erik floundered, trying to find something to say. Charles’s sudden appearance had taken him by surprise, and now his apparent lack of concern for the property Erik had just destroyed puzzled him further. “I can fix it,” he said apologetically.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Charles replied, clapping a lingering hand on his back. “Although, if you’re up for a bit more training, why don’t you try building something out of it instead? Something maybe not so... sappy.”
Taking his cue, Erik raised his hands again. He could feel the hum of the bronze even while it was underwater. It rose easily and turned molten again. Erik really had no idea what he should make- he had never been one much of an artist. His creativity lay in more sinister departments. Feeling Charles’s eyes flicking expectantly from the metal to his face, he panicked a little and began forming the first thing that popped into his head.
Two small pieces rose up to the top of the sphere, forming into a small figure and a flower; a rose. The small figure was bent down, the fingers of one of his hands lightly brushing the petals of the flower in front of him. The circle they were standing on became rough with what ended up looking like small volcanoes sticking up here and there amongst a few baobab saplings. The Little Prince’s features became more and more defined until the resemblance between Erik’s new fountain and the sketches in the book back in his room was unmistakable. Carefully, Erik set the new statue back on the pipe that connected it to the water supply and smiled as water began pouring from the volcanoes. He lowered his hands.
“That’s very beautiful, Erik,” Charles said breathlessly. “Thank you.”
Erik turned to smile at him and was surprised at the softness in Charles’s eyes as he met them. “You’re welcome.” God, Erik hated when Charles looked at him like this; all sweet and pure and accepting, as if Erik was the most precious thing in the world.
Charles cocked his head slightly. “I didn’t think you’d be a fan of children’s books,” he teased.
Erik tried to fight the blush that was creeping up his neck to his ears and shrugged in an attempt to shake off Charles’s comment. “I’m not. But seeing as it came highly recommended from a friend-“
A feeling of warmth washed over him suddenly, presumably from Charles. “Highly recommended? I hardly remember mentioning it,” Charles replied, eyes widening playfully as he took a step forward experimentally. Erik did not draw back. He could not draw back.
“Well… I was tired after dinner and figured… a little… escapism…” Erik faltered mid-sentence. Charles was drawing slowly closer. He nodded to show he was waiting for Erik to continue. “And it was… better than I expected.”
Damn! Charles could disarm an entire army with that crooked grin of his Erik thought as his pulse quickened. A crooked grin that kept advancing at a tantalizingly deliberate rate.
“Oh?” Charles’s eyes, Erik reflected with the analysis of one trying to reason their way in a purely un-reasonable situation, were so big they could be described as love-crumbs, coining the phrase of one of Erik’s preferred poets. “What was your favourite part then?”
“I quite liked the rose,” Erik admitted. Lying would be pointless. Even if Charles wasn’t in his mind at this particular moment, he would surely read any prevarication on his face. “It was tragic how she…” he faltered again, resisting the urge to brush a lock of hair that had fallen in front of one of Charles’s electric blue eyes that were so close. “How the rose didn’t exactly return the feelings the Little Prince had for her,” he finished lamely. A look of confusion flashed across Charles’s face, and with an air of nonchalance, he brushed the stray hair from Charles’s eyes. Charles grinned at him again as Erik suddenly heard a voice in his mind.
“You know, my darling, you’re thinking very loudly.”
Erik froze.
“Such lovely pictures too. Please, don’t stop.”
Charles’s fingers interlocked smoothly with the hand that Erik had just used to brush the hair out of his face.
“In fact, you’ve been thinking pretty loudly all evening. That’s how I knew you were out here.”
Erik cursed internally at his inability to control his fantasies, or at least he would have if he thought he had any brain function left.
“It’s okay,” Charles urged mentally. “You don’t have to fight it.”
It was as if something within Erik broke. He brought one hand up to cup Charles’s jaw as the other dropped Charles’s hand to pull him in to close the remaining distance between them.
Their lips crashed together, noses bumping unceremoniously as they tasted and explored each other frantically, Charles looping his arms around Erik’s neck as their mental floodgates opened simultaneously. Perhaps it was the suddenness of the whole thing, or perhaps it was the added physical contact, or perhaps it was simply that neither of them was holding anything back anymore.
Myriad images flicked through each of their minds, and to be honest, Erik couldn’t tell which ones were his and which ones belonged to Charles. The realization provided him with a strange sort of comfort, as it meant that Charles wanted all the things he wanted, something Erik had never thought possible. He gripped him tighter and did his best to stifle a moan as Charles slipped his tongue deftly into his mouth.
They fell into a gentler sort of rhythm, neither one of them fought for the control of the kiss. They simply shared each other’s mouths, each of them wanting to both claim and be claimed by the other. Erik licked along Charles’s bottom lip and Charles sucked in a shuddering breath before running his tongue along the length of Erik’s, hands tangling in his hair.
“Charles,” Erik thought, the word appearing husky in both their minds. He pulled away and began trailing kisses across Charles’s perfect cheekbones, nipping at his ear before moving to swipe his tongue down his neck as he tugged his shirt free. He slipped his hands underneath the buttoned front and around to feel the warmth of the small of Charles’s back as he moaned into Erik’s mouth.
Charles’s skin was soft and smooth, the complete opposite of Erik’s, which bore many marks from his time in the camps and hunting down Nazis. However, beneath the soft skin, Erik could feel sinewy muscle stretching as Charles arched his back and stood on tiptoe to allow Erik better access. As they ground together, Erik ceasing his ministrations on Charles’s neck to let their lips collide once more, he could feel the conspicuous bulge in the other man’s trousers, and knew that Charles could feel something very similar against his hip from the way he sucked in a sharp breath.
The weight of where this was headed hit Erik with the force of a sledgehammer. He pulled back and rested his forehead against Charles’s, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. After a moment, Charles moved to kiss Erik’s forehead before drawing away. His eyes were sparking and still so blue, even if the pupils were blown much wider than usual.
“I’m sorry if that was a bit much,” Charles said sheepishly. “I’m afraid I got a little carried away.”
Erik let out a strangled bark of laughter. “Charles, you need never apologize for anything like that ever again.” Pulling the telepath in closer, he grinned before planting an almost chaste kiss on his lips.
The kiss turned into another, and then another, until Erik felt Charles slide his tongue imploringly along his bottom lip once more, nipping lightly. Erik responded with equal enthusiasm, tangling his hands in Charles’s thick dark hair. Their kisses were slower now, longer and more passionate.
Unfortunately, just as Charles’s hands had slipped under Erik’s turtleneck, a shrill “Charles!” came from somewhere nearer to the mansion.
Charles inhaled sharply and pulled away. “It’s Raven,” he explained. “We should go back.” He planted a quick peck on Erik’s lips before disentangling himself completely. Well, not quite completely. His hand found Erik’s and interlocked their fingers once more. Their hands stayed linked up until they reached the house. Erik placed a swift, reassuring kiss on Charles’s knuckles before dropping his hand just before Raven turned to see them.
“We don’t have to spill the beans quite yet,” Charles mentally agreed. “Yes, Raven?” he asked, bounding up the steps of the house, smile sliding into a frown as he saw the look on his sister’s face and felt the anxiety sliding off her in waves. “What’s happened?”
“Sean,” Raven replied. “We were all hanging out listening to music and singing along, and I guess Sean doesn’t have as much control as he thought because he tried to go falsetto-“
“Say no more,” Charles said, holding up a hand to stop her. “Show me the damage.”
Raven strode swiftly into the house. Charles turned to catch Erik’s eye before following her. “My room? Give me twenty minutes.”
Erik’s smile stretched across his face, showing far too many teeth than was probably necessary. “I’ll be waiting, Professor.”
Charles’s returning smile had just the faintest hint of danger dancing around the eyes, but before Erik could do anything about it, Charles had spun on his heel and sprinted after Raven into the house.