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 190/?

[tahariel.livejournal.com]

There is a lot more skin on display, pale, freckled and damp-sleeked, than Erik has seen for the past several weeks. Charles would appear utterly unselfconscious if you were to go by his expression, but his chest is flushing just the faintest bit pink, and Erik is not the only one more used to regular sex than abstinence, over the past four and a half years. “What,” Charles says when Erik has been silent for a few moments, just looking, his calm becoming a little bit flustered.

Erik tries not to smile, but fails, mouth quirking, thinks about licking a line up between Charles’ pectorals where the light gathers in the water along the dip. “Nothing you’d be interested in.”

“Look,” and Charles sits a little more upright, blushing, but only reveals more skin as the water sheets off him, bubbles receding. “Did you want something or not, then? You sounded like you wanted something.”

To tell him or not to tell him.

Erik holds his tongue a little longer, considering, then finally says, “We’re decommissioning the camps, Charles. Things are in motion to have them taken apart by the end of the year, early March absolute latest.”

Silence. Charles’ mouth falls open, but no sound comes out, his eyes widening in surprise; his fingers clench on the side of the bath, gripping tightly, white-knuckled. “What?”

Erik draws a line through the spilled water along the top edge of the bath, then a second, idle and feigning a disinterest he doesn’t feel. “We can’t do it directly without people accusing us either of being unable to follow through or of pandering to public opinion, or worse, covering up something else. So we’re doing it through a third party. There’s simply no way we can sustain the resource drain.”

That seems to spark something more than surprise, at least. “Nothing to do with morality, I see,” Charles says dryly, lifting a hand to push his hair out of his face, slicking it back along the line of his skull. He looks pleased, though, and thoughtful. “Regardless, this is wonderful, Erik. Except… what are you going to do with the people?”

“Eat them.”

“Erik!”

He snorts, lets his hand trail over the side of the tub so that his fingertips just dip into the water, sending ripples across to beat gently at Charles’ side. “What do you think we’re going to do with them? The ones who have committed a specific crime are going to be tried for terrorism. The rest of them go into reintegration programs. We’ll have some telepaths and sensitives on standby to make sure they’re not planning further atrocities.” When he glances up Charles’ face is caught halfway between approval and cynicism. It looks uncomfortable. “Charles, I wouldn’t let mutant mass-murderers off either. You can’t just call it a clean slate for people like that.”

“I know. I do know that.” It’s perfectly clear that Charles is thinking of his sister in that moment, his expression faraway and sad. “Who’s the third party?”

“The People’s - ”

“- Integrationist Party?” Charles interrupts, grabbing at Erik’s arm and getting his shirt even wetter. “Erik! You’re working with integrationists?”

“It’s not that exciting.”

“Bullshit,” and Charles is smiling, really smiling, delighted and shining. “Erik, you - would it be patronising to tell you I’m proud of you? Because I am, that’s wonderful! It’s - oh, Erik, I knew you’d see sense.”

It’s infuriating, and Erik immediately feels a wave of affront, prickling like all his thorns are rising to the surface, defensive and insulted. “I didn’t do it for you,” he says, angrily, “or for your approval,” and he goes to get up, but Charles tightens his grip and holds on, keeps him kneeling beside the bath. “Let go.”

“Don’t be mad.”

Erik scowls. “Don’t imply I’m an idiot who only needed guidance from you to see the light.”

Charles sighs, half-pouting with an exasperation he doesn’t deserve to feel. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, I’m just the dick who got your sister killed,” Erik snaps, and it’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud.