round 3 overflow post

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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: The Better Men (20a/30ish)

[(Anonymous)]

Charles became gradually aware of sunlight on his face, which meant it was definitely time to get up or he would be late for his first class. Today was going to be bedlam anyway, all the children too excited about Halloween and their ball tonight to pay attention. He needed to be at the top of his game.

His first attempt at movement informed he that he had a headache, and was very thirsty. The second attempt gave him the startling information that he was not in his bed.

No. He was on Erik's couch, with a subtly Erik-scented blanket twisted around him. Because he had come to Erik's room...

The sensory memory came first, the gasping needing yes of Erik's lips pushing back against his own, Erik's fingers tangled tight in his hair, the heat and solidity of Erik's hips under Charles's thighs – the joy and relief, finally, finally, Erik I've wanted you so much, missed you so much, love you so much –

And then the embarrassment kicked in.

Charles buried his head under the blanket. How could he have done that? If Erik thought he was giving mixed signals before – and he had been angry, of course he had, he'd been furious, how could he have put Erik in the position of having to turn him down...

Charles paused. Erik had turned him down. He had come to Erik, willing and eager – insistent, even – Oh it had been good – and Erik had turned him down. Left him on the couch and gone to bed alone.

A tangle of competing emotions swirled in Charles's head. He was... surprised. Mortified. Disappointed. Miffed. Relieved.

Impressed.

Touched.

"When this happens -- and it will -- it will be for keeps."

Slowly, Charles sat up and scrubbed one hand through his hair, keeping the blanket wrapped around him with the other. His ears were back to normal, and all the horrific glitter had vanished into oblivion, as promised. He didn't look any more ridiculous than any other half-naked man in tiny shorts, at the moment. He crossed the room to the water pitcher without wobbling overmuch. A long, gulping drink helped him feel more present in his body.

Erik's bedroom door was still shut. Charles bit his lip, stared at it a long moment... then padded silently across the room and eased it open.

Erik lay in the middle of the bed, curled tightly around a pillow. He looked younger, asleep; almost like the Erik he had left at the train station, the Erik he had slept next to over four Christmas holidays, three summer breaks. For all his teasing about Charles being a clingy bed partner, it was Erik who slept like a lonely child, curled in on himself, huddled close to whatever warmth or contact he could find.

Even now.

Charles backed silently out of the room and closed the door. Then he eased the sealed envelope out of the pocket of his shorts.

He'd had to shrink it magically to make it fit without bending, but he'd had to bring it along, somehow couldn’t bear to leave it anywhere. He restored it to its true size, now, and weighed it carefully in his hand.

For the first several hours, the mere fact of the letter's existence had been overwhelming enough that reading it was simply too much to handle. After that... he was afraid of it, Charles realized. Because it could change everything. It could make it impossible for them to ever be friends again.

One way or another.

Charles took a deep, steadying breath, and opened the letter.

---

Erik woke to the sound of dishes clattering and the scent of brewing coffee.

It took him several minutes to talk himself into leaving the bedroom. Only when he was showered, dressed, and shaved, his hair under perfect control and his robes layered neatly over all, could he muster the courage to open the door.

"There you are!" Charles, standing at the counter, called cheerfully over his shoulder. "I've got coffee, tea, toast with butter, toast with cheese, toast with marmalade... This marmalade is amazing, by the way, where did you get it? Have a seat, go on."