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 192/?

[tahariel.livejournal.com]

XXIII

“You’ve never been avoided properly until you’ve been avoided by someone who can teleport away the instant he sees you coming,” Magneto says to Emma at one of their one-to-one meetings, coordinating and agreeing on the process and timetable for decommissioning the camps in a controllable manner. She’s conceded enough to the relative informality of their recent dealings with one another by deigning to slip off the beautiful fur pelisse she’s taken to wearing as the weather gets colder, the long cloak draped instead across the back of her chair like a throw. When he’d asked her if she was copying his cape she’d merely said “Don’t look to start any fashions, darling,” with an infuriating little smirk on her face, and wouldn’t be drawn any further.

“Azazel is still angry with us,” Emma replies, adding another notation to the chart they’ve been building together. “Not everybody has your pragmatic streak. Thank the tiny baby Jesus you do or I’d be forced to take over the government myself, and I’d much rather be the power behind the throne.”

Magneto adds his own note beneath hers, pen scratching across the paper. “Hmm, I can see how the crown would give you hat hair.”

Her laugh is the best thing about her when it’s genuine, because it’s full and hearty, a very real sound from an often artificial woman. “Absolutely. Now, back to Azazel - he’ll stop avoiding you eventually, sugar, but it’s no use trying to catch him until he’s ready to be caught. He’s a terribly sulky man. Better off leaving messages with Kurt’s nanny to get back to him.”

“I haven’t seen much of Kurt lately,” Magneto says, then pauses, thinking about it. He really hasn’t - it’s far more normal for Kurt to be popping in and out of rooms at will or by accident on a regular basis, but there hasn’t been hide nor hair of him for the past month or so, maybe more. Perhaps it means his control is getting better, but at four years old - even four-and-a-half - it seems unlikely. “That’s odd, actually. Have you seen him?”

Emma shrugs, glancing up from the chart with one eyebrow raised curiously. “Oh, only in passing. But then he never came to my office very often. Why, are you getting broody? You should get out there and make little mutant babies of your own I can book into photoshoots to show you have family values.”

“Fuck off,” he says companionably, and she laughs again, taps at the next line of the chart with the end of her pen. “What about this?”

He resolves to follow up with Kurt, make sure everything is alright, but things are so busy that it takes a while to have the time to trek up to the nursery to look in on him, and when he does the boy isn’t there. He could, of course, ask Emma to chase him down mentally, but without cause for concern he has no real need to open himself up to further Mama Bear jokes. Instead he leaves a note for the nanny to ask her to let him know when they’ll be around and goes back to work.

There’s a moment on the way from one room to another between meetings when he spots Azazel stood outside Emma’s office speaking to her in the doorway, and when the floor creaks beneath his boots the teleporter’s head snaps around with all the speed of a striking snake; Azazel gives him the strangest look, somewhere between anger and disbelief, and vanishes in a cloud of smoke before Magneto can so much as greet him.

That night Charles grabs Erik as soon as he walks through the door and kisses him as though the world is ending, as though they are about to die and there is nothing more important than this, than mouths clashing and meeting and skin on skin, flesh sliding against flesh. They don’t even make it to the bedroom, just fall onto the couch and make love there, fast and desperate, their hands tangled together jerking them both off alongside one another, coming almost an afterthought to the intensity of getting closer and closer still, until there is not an atom’s worth of space between them. After, Charles stares at the ceiling, eyes wide as though he’s trying not to cry, but when Erik tries to ask what that was for Charles just kisses him again, kisses him incoherent until all he can think about is round two, and questions are long gone.