“Yes.” Charles looks away, ahead, keeps walking down until they break past the last of the trees and out onto the lawns, the grass soft and springy underfoot. “Can you blame me? I had to be sure. But I do.”
“I…” Something like hope is filling him up inside, burning like whisky on a split lip, and he stops again, plants his feet and refuses to move so that Charles has to stop, has to draw to a halt. When he reaches up to pull off the helmet Charles makes this tiny sound of protest, and then it is easy to drop it to the loamy earth, to ignore it rolling down the hill away from their feet, and lean down and kiss Charles, there on the lawn, catch his face between his hands and lick at his mouth until Charles’ lips part and he’s kissing Erik back, hard and desperate, clutching at Erik’s waist as though he’s never going to let go.
When they finally break apart for air, dishevelled and flushed, Erik clings to Charles’ shoulders to stay upright and leans his forehead against Charles’, unimpeded by the helmet and out in the open in the middle of the Palace of Versailles where anyone could see them, tangled up in each other. “I know this doesn’t - I don’t expect you to - ” He takes a fresh breath, starts again. “Charles, I - don’t deserve it, probably, but I would like a chance to start over.”
The human looks at him with searching eyes, mouth pulling tight and uncertain. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean that’s a good idea,” he says, but he doesn’t step back. “There’s - a lot of history, here, Erik, that I can’t, won’t backslide into. Just because I love you doesn’t mean it’s real now. It might still be artificial. These things don’t go away overnight. And I won’t go back to living like that. I’d rather die.”
“Just because it might be artificial doesn’t mean it’s not real,” Erik says, and he is the one to move back and away, one foot then the other, pulling loose of Charles’ grip. “I just want you. I - look. It’s very nice to meet you, finally, Professor Xavier. I’d like very much to take you to dinner and get to know you better.”
There is a long pause, where neither of them says anything, just stand across from one another, caught on an inhale while Erik waits for an answer.
And then Charles smiles, slowly, and when he leans back to meet Erik’s eyes his own gaze is warm. “Alright. I would like that. Very much.”
II
Magneto delivers his speech that evening to a crowd of hundreds of people, but he only has eyes for one.
That one applauds him when he’s finished just as loudly as everyone else, but his is the only approval Erik needs.
FILL: Everyday Love in Stockholm 199/199 END
“I…” Something like hope is filling him up inside, burning like whisky on a split lip, and he stops again, plants his feet and refuses to move so that Charles has to stop, has to draw to a halt. When he reaches up to pull off the helmet Charles makes this tiny sound of protest, and then it is easy to drop it to the loamy earth, to ignore it rolling down the hill away from their feet, and lean down and kiss Charles, there on the lawn, catch his face between his hands and lick at his mouth until Charles’ lips part and he’s kissing Erik back, hard and desperate, clutching at Erik’s waist as though he’s never going to let go.
When they finally break apart for air, dishevelled and flushed, Erik clings to Charles’ shoulders to stay upright and leans his forehead against Charles’, unimpeded by the helmet and out in the open in the middle of the Palace of Versailles where anyone could see them, tangled up in each other. “I know this doesn’t - I don’t expect you to - ” He takes a fresh breath, starts again. “Charles, I - don’t deserve it, probably, but I would like a chance to start over.”
The human looks at him with searching eyes, mouth pulling tight and uncertain. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean that’s a good idea,” he says, but he doesn’t step back. “There’s - a lot of history, here, Erik, that I can’t, won’t backslide into. Just because I love you doesn’t mean it’s real now. It might still be artificial. These things don’t go away overnight. And I won’t go back to living like that. I’d rather die.”
“Just because it might be artificial doesn’t mean it’s not real,” Erik says, and he is the one to move back and away, one foot then the other, pulling loose of Charles’ grip. “I just want you. I - look. It’s very nice to meet you, finally, Professor Xavier. I’d like very much to take you to dinner and get to know you better.”
There is a long pause, where neither of them says anything, just stand across from one another, caught on an inhale while Erik waits for an answer.
And then Charles smiles, slowly, and when he leans back to meet Erik’s eyes his own gaze is warm. “Alright. I would like that. Very much.”
Magneto delivers his speech that evening to a crowd of hundreds of people, but he only has eyes for one.
That one applauds him when he’s finished just as loudly as everyone else, but his is the only approval Erik needs.
END