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“Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters.”
“Do shut up.”
“No, I think it has a certain ring to it,” Erik says, laughing when Charles smacks him in the face with a sandwich. At least he didn’t throw one of Sean’s brownies, those things were known to be lethal.
“Between you and Moira, I’m never going to have any peace,” Charles grumbles and lays back, sprawled on the blanket set out across the floor in the library for their makeshift indoor picnic. Charles had had dozens of rooms to choose from in his estate to make his bedroom, all bigger than his whole house in the village. He still finds it a little hard to believe that he has an Estate and more money in trust than he knows what to do with. Moira had handled everything for him, including tracking down the families of the children that were willing to take them back and organizing for him to be legal guardian of those not old enough to be on their own for those that didn’t.
He and Erik often retreated to the library because it had a fire, a chess set and wasn’t as daunting as most of the other rooms.
There is the sound of some of the children thumping by in the hallway.
“Any word about Remy?” Erik asks carefully and Charles sighs.
“Hank’s working on something that might help us track down him, Janos and Azazel,” Charles says. When they’d gathered everyone to leave the village, the three of them couldn’t be found, probably terrified of any reprisals for what had been done. Erik was still angry, Charles knew he had trouble letting go of it but Charles was just worried that Shaw would scoop them up again.
“We should be working on tracking Shaw down,” Erik growls. “How many did he-“
“Erik,” Charles interrupts gently, tired to his bones of the same fight they’ve been having since they left the village, Erik itching to follow Shaw to the ends of the earth if necessary, wanting revenge. Charles doesn’t feel the need for it, instead content to embark on a better life, protect those he can and try to integrate into the world that he’s only just learning to understand. When he’d been wounded he’d felt Erik grow distant and that distance remains, a spike of pain Charles can feel like a physical thing.
It’s hard to worry about it though when Erik is still by his side, rolling into him and pressing his nose into Charles’ neck. He peels his lips back and grazes his teeth just under Charles’ ear where it makes Charles shiver. “Anyone could come in,” Charles point out, a little breathlessly.
“We’re in the library,” Erik says, voice muffled because he’s gently chewing on Charles’ neck. “None of the children will venture in here voluntarily.”
“They will if they hear you, you noisy bugger,” Charles says with a chuckle that turns into a moan when Erik bites down harder.
“I dreamed about this,” Erik says, wedging an arm under Charles and curling him up and over so that Charles is sprawled across his body, moved up and down when he breathes. “I dreamed that I could have you close without fear, without reprisals.”
Charles smiles, touches fingers to Erik’s brow, traces the sharp jut of his cheekbone and the line of his jaw. “Stay with me then,” Charles says.
“I will,” Erik’s tone is careful and even though he doesn’t say it, Charles hears it anyway because he can’t help it. For now.
Instead of questioning it though he just wraps his body around Erik, holds onto him with everything he can. He understands that Shaw may one day come for them, but he pities whoever thinks they can come after Charles and his students now.
He’s sure he has time to convince Erik to let Shaw go, have them live their lives together.
He’s sure of it.
Part One | Part Two | Epilogue
“Do shut up.”
“No, I think it has a certain ring to it,” Erik says, laughing when Charles smacks him in the face with a sandwich. At least he didn’t throw one of Sean’s brownies, those things were known to be lethal.
“Between you and Moira, I’m never going to have any peace,” Charles grumbles and lays back, sprawled on the blanket set out across the floor in the library for their makeshift indoor picnic. Charles had had dozens of rooms to choose from in his estate to make his bedroom, all bigger than his whole house in the village. He still finds it a little hard to believe that he has an Estate and more money in trust than he knows what to do with. Moira had handled everything for him, including tracking down the families of the children that were willing to take them back and organizing for him to be legal guardian of those not old enough to be on their own for those that didn’t.
He and Erik often retreated to the library because it had a fire, a chess set and wasn’t as daunting as most of the other rooms.
There is the sound of some of the children thumping by in the hallway.
“Any word about Remy?” Erik asks carefully and Charles sighs.
“Hank’s working on something that might help us track down him, Janos and Azazel,” Charles says. When they’d gathered everyone to leave the village, the three of them couldn’t be found, probably terrified of any reprisals for what had been done. Erik was still angry, Charles knew he had trouble letting go of it but Charles was just worried that Shaw would scoop them up again.
“We should be working on tracking Shaw down,” Erik growls. “How many did he-“
“Erik,” Charles interrupts gently, tired to his bones of the same fight they’ve been having since they left the village, Erik itching to follow Shaw to the ends of the earth if necessary, wanting revenge. Charles doesn’t feel the need for it, instead content to embark on a better life, protect those he can and try to integrate into the world that he’s only just learning to understand. When he’d been wounded he’d felt Erik grow distant and that distance remains, a spike of pain Charles can feel like a physical thing.
It’s hard to worry about it though when Erik is still by his side, rolling into him and pressing his nose into Charles’ neck. He peels his lips back and grazes his teeth just under Charles’ ear where it makes Charles shiver. “Anyone could come in,” Charles point out, a little breathlessly.
“We’re in the library,” Erik says, voice muffled because he’s gently chewing on Charles’ neck. “None of the children will venture in here voluntarily.”
“They will if they hear you, you noisy bugger,” Charles says with a chuckle that turns into a moan when Erik bites down harder.
“I dreamed about this,” Erik says, wedging an arm under Charles and curling him up and over so that Charles is sprawled across his body, moved up and down when he breathes. “I dreamed that I could have you close without fear, without reprisals.”
Charles smiles, touches fingers to Erik’s brow, traces the sharp jut of his cheekbone and the line of his jaw. “Stay with me then,” Charles says.
“I will,” Erik’s tone is careful and even though he doesn’t say it, Charles hears it anyway because he can’t help it. For now.
Instead of questioning it though he just wraps his body around Erik, holds onto him with everything he can. He understands that Shaw may one day come for them, but he pities whoever thinks they can come after Charles and his students now.
He’s sure he has time to convince Erik to let Shaw go, have them live their lives together.
He’s sure of it.
Part One | Part Two | Epilogue