Charles blinks, and then pulls away. "Is that--" Something you want? Something I made you want? Something you think you owe me for saving your life?
"Something I want," Erik says, and Charles wants to throw up.
"Yes," he says, but doesn't move closer.
Erik looks sort of confused. Charles can hear him being confused, in point of fact. "I sort of thought it was something you wanted as well," he says, but doesn't move to touch Charles again.
"It is," Charles says, because he can't actually lie right now.
"So can I kiss you again?" Erik says. Charles makes a decision.
"I need to--" Charles says, leaning in to kiss Erik and reaching out with mental fingers at the same time, Hi, hello, terribly sorry, just let me-- and Erik draws a breath but doesn't move, doesn't tell him no. So Charles checks.
And then he pushes Erik up against the wall and kisses him again, deeper. He wants to laugh, wants to push and push and take and maybe he can, now. Erik's mind unfolds and it's not wrong, not a violation, not unaware.
Your bedroom, Charles, Erik projects, a little overwhelmed and sort of amused.
What about it? Charles says, scraping his teeth over Erik's neck, the way he's wanted to for days. Weeks.
"It has a bed," Erik says out loud, and the images running through his head at that thought are enough to make Charles groan and pull him into another kiss.
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Date: 2011-07-08 09:49 pm (UTC)Charles blinks, and then pulls away. "Is that--" Something you want? Something I made you want? Something you think you owe me for saving your life?
"Something I want," Erik says, and Charles wants to throw up.
"Yes," he says, but doesn't move closer.
Erik looks sort of confused. Charles can hear him being confused, in point of fact. "I sort of thought it was something you wanted as well," he says, but doesn't move to touch Charles again.
"It is," Charles says, because he can't actually lie right now.
"So can I kiss you again?" Erik says. Charles makes a decision.
"I need to--" Charles says, leaning in to kiss Erik and reaching out with mental fingers at the same time, Hi, hello, terribly sorry, just let me-- and Erik draws a breath but doesn't move, doesn't tell him no. So Charles checks.
And then he pushes Erik up against the wall and kisses him again, deeper. He wants to laugh, wants to push and push and take and maybe he can, now. Erik's mind unfolds and it's not wrong, not a violation, not unaware.
Your bedroom, Charles, Erik projects, a little overwhelmed and sort of amused.
What about it? Charles says, scraping his teeth over Erik's neck, the way he's wanted to for days. Weeks.
"It has a bed," Erik says out loud, and the images running through his head at that thought are enough to make Charles groan and pull him into another kiss.
We should make use of it, he thinks, and they do.