Though he wants it badly enough to burn, so much that he feels sometimes he might spontaneously combust if they don’t, they haven’t had penetrative sex, because Charles has not offered or asked, and Erik cannot bear the thought of asking and being told no, or worse yet, of asking and being told yes if Charles does not want it. He has taken enough from Charles as it is.
It’s easy to say it in the heat of things, when they’re pressed flesh to flesh and he’s so turned on he can’t think and his mouth runs away with him, but when they’re not having sex it’s too hard to ask and Charles never says a word either way.
They sleep curled up together, and sometimes Erik lies behind Charles and thinks about it so hard that he has to slip out of bed to jerk off in the bathroom, gritting his teeth against making enough noise to wake the other man, hand slick on his own cock where he has been leaking precome, and never, ever as good as it would be if it was Charles, but he does not wake him up.
He will not ask. Charles has to come to him. Charles has to want it. Erik will not ask -
He gets back into bed after and gathers Charles back up into his arms carefully, shuffles in close and sleeps with his nose buried in Charles’ hair, inhaling and exhaling, fixing the scent in his mind along with everything else.
XXXI
The news comes in the middle of the night, but Magneto doesn’t hear about it until his morning briefing, none of the staff sure if he would want to be called as soon as it came in or not - he makes it clear he would’ve, and that in future they should wake him up, there’s a phone on his bedside table now for a reason - and so presenting it to him as soon as he appears downstairs, a whole gaggle of assistants and ministers crowding him into his office when the folder is handed over.
“Let me read it,” Magneto snaps, exasperated, and forces them all back to make himself some room, reinforcing the words with a solid push on any metal they have about their persons. “All of you out until I’m done. Rogue, you can stay.”
He reads it standing in the middle of the room, a frown creasing his brow as he scans it quickly, reads it again. The report is brief, little more than a few telegrams from their allies and sources within Japan put together into as coherent a briefing as possible. Tokyo is burning, the Japanese mutant population rising up to turn on their government and the American soldiers still posted there - who, after Magneto’s takeover of power in the States had simply stayed where they were, doing much the same job, for lack of other alternatives, exiles of circumstance - and the mutants are fighting for control of the cities with a single-minded viciousness. It has not exactly been hidden that the Japanese harbour a deep and focused prejudice against mutants that goes far past dislike and into making either social outcasts or corpses of anybody unfortunate enough to be found out or stubborn enough not to hide.
“Good for them,” Magneto says, turning over the sheet to see if there is anything more on the back, but there’s nothing - just these few snippets of information sent through on the wires. “Rogue, who’s still malingering out there?”
The girl opens the door a little, just enough to peek out without giving room for anyone to push past. “Shadowcat’s out there, Emma must have sent her. A couple of flunkies from International Affairs, too. Everyone else is just gawping. Want ah should let them in?”
Not particularly, but needs must. Magneto moves around the desk to sit in his chair, laying the file down on the table in front of him. “Alright. Shadowcat first.”
Emma’s assistant doesn’t wait for Rogue to open the door; instead she just walks right through it, appearing from the wood like a movie ghost. There’s a clipboard clasped to her chest and her eyes are wide the way they always are when she talks to Magneto, as though he might bite, or worse, ask her something. When he sees her in the corridor with Emma she seems chatty enough, but something about him intimidates her. Frankly he’d be more afraid of Emma, if it were him. “Sir, Ms Frost would like to talk to you about the Japan situation as soon as possible. Please.”
FILL: Everyday Love in Stockholm 135/?
Though he wants it badly enough to burn, so much that he feels sometimes he might spontaneously combust if they don’t, they haven’t had penetrative sex, because Charles has not offered or asked, and Erik cannot bear the thought of asking and being told no, or worse yet, of asking and being told yes if Charles does not want it. He has taken enough from Charles as it is.
It’s easy to say it in the heat of things, when they’re pressed flesh to flesh and he’s so turned on he can’t think and his mouth runs away with him, but when they’re not having sex it’s too hard to ask and Charles never says a word either way.
They sleep curled up together, and sometimes Erik lies behind Charles and thinks about it so hard that he has to slip out of bed to jerk off in the bathroom, gritting his teeth against making enough noise to wake the other man, hand slick on his own cock where he has been leaking precome, and never, ever as good as it would be if it was Charles, but he does not wake him up.
He will not ask. Charles has to come to him. Charles has to want it. Erik will not ask -
He gets back into bed after and gathers Charles back up into his arms carefully, shuffles in close and sleeps with his nose buried in Charles’ hair, inhaling and exhaling, fixing the scent in his mind along with everything else.
The news comes in the middle of the night, but Magneto doesn’t hear about it until his morning briefing, none of the staff sure if he would want to be called as soon as it came in or not - he makes it clear he would’ve, and that in future they should wake him up, there’s a phone on his bedside table now for a reason - and so presenting it to him as soon as he appears downstairs, a whole gaggle of assistants and ministers crowding him into his office when the folder is handed over.
“Let me read it,” Magneto snaps, exasperated, and forces them all back to make himself some room, reinforcing the words with a solid push on any metal they have about their persons. “All of you out until I’m done. Rogue, you can stay.”
He reads it standing in the middle of the room, a frown creasing his brow as he scans it quickly, reads it again. The report is brief, little more than a few telegrams from their allies and sources within Japan put together into as coherent a briefing as possible. Tokyo is burning, the Japanese mutant population rising up to turn on their government and the American soldiers still posted there - who, after Magneto’s takeover of power in the States had simply stayed where they were, doing much the same job, for lack of other alternatives, exiles of circumstance - and the mutants are fighting for control of the cities with a single-minded viciousness. It has not exactly been hidden that the Japanese harbour a deep and focused prejudice against mutants that goes far past dislike and into making either social outcasts or corpses of anybody unfortunate enough to be found out or stubborn enough not to hide.
“Good for them,” Magneto says, turning over the sheet to see if there is anything more on the back, but there’s nothing - just these few snippets of information sent through on the wires. “Rogue, who’s still malingering out there?”
The girl opens the door a little, just enough to peek out without giving room for anyone to push past. “Shadowcat’s out there, Emma must have sent her. A couple of flunkies from International Affairs, too. Everyone else is just gawping. Want ah should let them in?”
Not particularly, but needs must. Magneto moves around the desk to sit in his chair, laying the file down on the table in front of him. “Alright. Shadowcat first.”
Emma’s assistant doesn’t wait for Rogue to open the door; instead she just walks right through it, appearing from the wood like a movie ghost. There’s a clipboard clasped to her chest and her eyes are wide the way they always are when she talks to Magneto, as though he might bite, or worse, ask her something. When he sees her in the corridor with Emma she seems chatty enough, but something about him intimidates her. Frankly he’d be more afraid of Emma, if it were him. “Sir, Ms Frost would like to talk to you about the Japan situation as soon as possible. Please.”