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 (20b/30ish)

[(Anonymous)]

Erik just stared. Charles was wearing Erik's clothes. Charles was wearing Erik's clothes, a pair of black trousers about to fall off his hips, the sleeves of a dark blue sweater lapping over his knuckles with the wide neck exposing one smooth, creamy shoulder. Smooth except for the bite scar... Erik nearly bolted for the bedroom. Except that would mean not seeing this, and he wanted to see it, wanted to see it every morning for the rest of his life—

Charles turned around with a tray of toast and mugs in his hands, twitching one shoulder as if to pull the sweater back into place. It fell further. He took the tray to the table, sat down, and raised an eyebrow at Erik.

"Planning to join me, or do I have to eat all this toast by myself?"

Erik swallowed and took a seat.

Charles sipped his tea with a happy hum and began helping his plate, glancing up to smile at Erik as he bit into a slice of marmalade toast.

"Charles," Erik croaked, "do you... remember...?"

Charles set down the toast and bit his lip (augh he's trying to kill me) and only with the smile gone could Erik see what a nervous mask it had been. "Yes, I remember perfectly," Charles said quietly. "I am sorry to have put you in that position, my friend. I want to thank you for your... extremely level-headed response."

"Are you... I hope you didn't..." Erik's voice sank to a hoarse whisper. "It wasn't a matter of not wanting you, Charles, I hope you understand that—"

"I do, Erik." He reached across the table to touch Erik's hand and, to Erik's shock, lace their fingers together. "I do." He just looked at Erik for a minute, with a soft, bright, nervous smile, before he pulled his hand away. "Eat, Erik. We've got a long day ahead."

Erik ate, and drank his coffee, and tried to think of things to say. He could not come up with any.

When his plate was empty, he carried it to the sink and poured another cup of coffee. When he turned back toward the table, something caught his eye. A thin sheet of parchment, on the little table in front of the couch, laid open but bearing the marks of being a long time folded. There was an open envelope beneath.

It was crazy, he told himself, to even wonder—There was no reason at all to think it might be his letter, it was impossible to read a word from here—

But he knew. Whether he subconsciously recognized something about the parchment itself, or whether Charles's shivering nerves clued him in, he couldn't say. But he knew.

He set his mug down on the counter and crossed the room to pick up the letter.

He didn't really have to read it. The words were burned into his brain. He'd agonized over them for days, over a dozen drafts, a dozen crushed and broken quills. He didn't have to read them but he did it anyway.

Charles,

I am an idiot. I have been terrible to you and I'm so sorry. There's no excuse for the things I said but I swear I never meant them. Let me make this right.

Charles, I love you more than anything. You're all I have, the only thing in the world that matters. I miss you so much I can't breathe. I miss everything about you – your eyes, your smile, your sharp mind, your lame jokes. You make this world worth being in and you make me want to be better just so I can deserve to be around you. Without you everything gets dark and tangled, and I fall asleep on the couch because the bed is so cold and empty I can't even look at it. I can't live this way.

You still love me, I know you do. You need me, and I need you, and we can’t let this or anything else get between us. I know I screwed up, and it kills me that I hurt you, when all I want is to have you happy beside me. But I can fix it if you'll let me.

You have to talk to me. Write to me. Whatever you need to say to me, I know I deserve it, and I can take it. I can take anything from you but silence. Just tell me what you want from me and it's yours. You have to let me fix this. We can't just walk away from each other, after all this time. I won't let you go that easily. I love you too much not to fight for you.

Please forgive me. I love you. I'm sorry.

I love you.
Erik