Three days into their mutant recruitment trip, the car Charles had conned out of the airport rental sputtered, then stopped. The helpful road sign said that the nearest town was 50 miles away. Why did America have to be so big, that's what Erik constantly asked himself. Vast, incomprehensible, irritating country that it was.
He sighed. "Looks like we're sleeping here tonight."
Charles blinked at him. "Can't you--" he waggled his fingers.
"I'm not a mechanic," Erik said, which wasn't strictly true (he'd been his own mechanic plenty of times, and he could in fact tell what the problem was at the moment), but it was entirely true that he couldn't fix their car. "Unless you can flirt us into someone else's vehicle or you want to walk 50 miles, we're shit out of luck, as the Americans like to say."
"I couldn't take someone's car," Charles said, scandalized, and Erik didn't point out that he'd done exactly that, earlier. He smirked, though, guessing that Charles would pick up the thought. Charles frowned at him. "There is a difference between borrowing a car from a rental service and convincing some stranger to detour from their--you're making fun of me."
"Only a little bit," Erik said. "Your criteria for what is and isn't ethical seem to be a bit fluid."
"Just for that, I'm sleeping on you," Charles said. "Get in the car."
Erik blinked. That was a little more comfortable than he'd expected Charles to be about effectively cuddling with a man. Fine.
It took some scrambling and some shifting and some muffled cursing on Erik's part (Charles had sharp elbows) but they finally managed to get themselves situated. Charles muttered something about Erik thinking too loudly, but then he went right to sleep. Perhaps it was part of his mutation somehow, Erik mused, and realized he was stroking Charles' hair.
He stopped. He hadn't really expected to be this comfortable with Charles sleeping on him either, but it was nice. Charles' face relaxed in sleep, so that he looked even younger than he usually did. Absurdly young, for a professor. And vulnerable. He looked deceptively vulnerable.
Erik recognized that his thoughts were approaching a state he would ordinarily refer to as maudlin, but he couldn't bring himself to mind. Charles was breathing calmly in his arms and the moonlight was creeping in through the window and Erik felt at peace, for the first time in months. Years.
"I don't know what you've done to me," he whispered. Charles shifted against him, shivering a little, and Erik snagged his jacket from the front seat by the metal in the zipper, covering Charles carefully.
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Date: 2012-05-22 11:15 am (UTC)He sighed. "Looks like we're sleeping here tonight."
Charles blinked at him. "Can't you--" he waggled his fingers.
"I'm not a mechanic," Erik said, which wasn't strictly true (he'd been his own mechanic plenty of times, and he could in fact tell what the problem was at the moment), but it was entirely true that he couldn't fix their car. "Unless you can flirt us into someone else's vehicle or you want to walk 50 miles, we're shit out of luck, as the Americans like to say."
"I couldn't take someone's car," Charles said, scandalized, and Erik didn't point out that he'd done exactly that, earlier. He smirked, though, guessing that Charles would pick up the thought. Charles frowned at him. "There is a difference between borrowing a car from a rental service and convincing some stranger to detour from their--you're making fun of me."
"Only a little bit," Erik said. "Your criteria for what is and isn't ethical seem to be a bit fluid."
"Just for that, I'm sleeping on you," Charles said. "Get in the car."
Erik blinked. That was a little more comfortable than he'd expected Charles to be about effectively cuddling with a man. Fine.
It took some scrambling and some shifting and some muffled cursing on Erik's part (Charles had sharp elbows) but they finally managed to get themselves situated. Charles muttered something about Erik thinking too loudly, but then he went right to sleep. Perhaps it was part of his mutation somehow, Erik mused, and realized he was stroking Charles' hair.
He stopped. He hadn't really expected to be this comfortable with Charles sleeping on him either, but it was nice. Charles' face relaxed in sleep, so that he looked even younger than he usually did. Absurdly young, for a professor. And vulnerable. He looked deceptively vulnerable.
Erik recognized that his thoughts were approaching a state he would ordinarily refer to as maudlin, but he couldn't bring himself to mind. Charles was breathing calmly in his arms and the moonlight was creeping in through the window and Erik felt at peace, for the first time in months. Years.
"I don't know what you've done to me," he whispered. Charles shifted against him, shivering a little, and Erik snagged his jacket from the front seat by the metal in the zipper, covering Charles carefully.