round 3 overflow post

[starkmodistries.livejournal.com]

Round 3 Overflow Post

This post is for Round 3 fills only. We ask that when a round hits 8500 comments, fillers begin moving their fills to this post.

Format:
SUBJECT LINE -- Round #, short description of fic (ex: "Alex/Hank, lab partners")
--- Link to the prompt
--- Text of the prompt

--- Link to the fill
OR
--- Entire text of the fill

EXAMPLE:
Prompt: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=1038472#t2038174

Charles/Erik -- Charles is a bakery owner whose most frequent customer is Erik.

Fill: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=0139482#t4502942

Charles started off the morning the same way he always did...

Comments

FILL: Everyday Love in Stockholm 152/?

[tahariel.livejournal.com]

“I guess you should take some photos of the spawn,” Raven says with a wry grin, and peels back the swaddling enough that he can see more of the baby, enough to see the boy is sleek-skinned like his father and unscaled, the same deep dark blue all over. He makes a striking picture against the pale blanket, and obliges them enough to open his eyes and look up at the camera quietly for one or two photos before curling his face away and burying it against his mother, who wraps him up again with gentle hands.

It’s time for him to go, Erik realises suddenly, as Azazel curls in towards his new little family, both of them focused in on the bundle in her arms. He’s only a secondary concern compared to this, what should be their moment. “I’ll leave you alone.”

Raven looks up at him when he stands and smiles, reaching out a hand again to squeeze his palm, strong and glowing with happiness. “Come see me tomorrow, okay?”

“Of course,” he says, gathering up the photographs, and takes them back to Charles.



XLVI

Erik doesn’t even have a chance to get out of the elevator before Charles is pushing his way through the doors and tugging the photographs from his hand, flicking through them right there in the elevator car; he stares at each one in turn as if by looking hard enough he might somehow be able to step into the frame and look at his new nephew for himself.

Stood so close, Erik can see every little change on his face as he looks through them, an echo of Raven’s own expression in his eyes, tender and tremulous in their happiness. It’s only a very little effort to keep the elevator doors from closing behind them and disturbing the quiet.

“Is she alright?” Charles asks when he finally looks up, but his anxiety is fading into a sentimental, misty-eyed kind of pleasure that Erik finds utterly endearing.

Erik points to the photograph on top of the pile, the one where Raven is giving the camera a perfect view of her middle finger. “She’s fine. They both are.”

It earns him a smile, sweet and spreading as the other man looks back down at the pictures in his hands, shuffling through them once again and pausing on one of the last, Kurt staring up at the camera, fat little baby fingers curling up by his cheek. “Boy or girl?”

“A boy.” Erik considers for a moment not mentioning the name, and leaving it to Raven to explain, but decides on honesty. “I should tell you something.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s get out of the elevator first.” A hand on Charles’ elbow is enough to nudge the man back out and into the living room. It’s slow going, Charles’ attention on the photographs instead of on his feet, and Erik gives up on getting him to the couch, stops him once they’re stood far enough in to send the elevator away discreetly, out of reach. “Raven wanted to name him after you,” Erik says, and the look on Charles’ face shifts from surprise to delight in the moment it takes for Erik to grit his teeth and say, “but Azazel – I’m not sure what happened, but somehow he thinks his child’s uncle’s name is Kurt, and Raven hasn’t corrected him.”

“Oh.” Charles looks back down at the photographs again, the excitement draining from him slowly until even the pleasure that had been there before is less, and Erik feels like a total ass. “Oh. Well. I suppose it’s to be expected, since she can hardly tell him I exist.”

She told me, Erik thinks, and does not allow himself to wonder what that says about him, or Raven’s relative feelings for Erik and Azazel. “Kurt is a good name,” he tries, and steps over to put a hand on Charles’ shoulder, standing close beside him. “Regardless of who else might have worn it first.”

“Erik, is there really no way I can go and see her?” Charles asks suddenly, twisting to look up and meet Erik’s eyes with determination. “I want to meet my nephew, make sure my sister is alright with my own two eyes. Photos are all very well and good, but it’s just not good enough.”