Oh how Charles hated being sober. That made the buzzing the replaced all the voices in his head louder. However, Hank seemed to think he had a 'problem' with all the drink, and had cut him off. Had the serum that gave him his legs saved his ability, he'd have made Hank forget this particular thought. This was not the case, sadly.
Sobriety also made thoughts of him resurface. Charles wanted to forget said thoughts completely. The thoughts on their own weren't bad; they were just memories of them together. Really cute memories (although said cuteness was something Charles hated to admit). They were supposed to be friends. Were. But Charles had to make things overly complicated by taking the sentiment he felt for his friend too far. Since Cuba, he has been all Charles could think about. How so many things had gone wrong.
The worst, even worse than Charles losing his legs, was that he had left him. Just left, like it was normal to paralyze your friend, and almost kill the woman who tried to stop him blowing up those ships. That hurt more than anything. All he wanted was for him to not become another Shaw. All he wanted was for him to see what he felt. And now there's news of the Brotherhood forming and all the hurt he had caused.
So yes, Charles drank. Because he didn't want to think about how easy it would have been for Charles to show him how he felt, how easy it would have been to stop him and make him listen to reason. But he didn't. So he didn't want to think about it.
Charles paced around his office, as he was fond of doing when he had his legs, and nursed a small brandy from Charles' emergency stash. He wanted the brandy a lot bigger, but he was trying to ration it. (At least he had the sense to, would a drunkard?) He felt like he was waiting for something; he was anxious about something. But what? He had nothing planned (not that he was one to plan things anymore) and Hank hadn't said anything. So why on Earth did he feel like he was expecting something?
Then came the knock at the door. Charles bolted for the door without thought, down the hallway, stairs, and corridor as fast as he could. He flung the door open and froze with wide eyes.
It was him. Standing just beyond his threshold, looking sheepish. "Charles." The aforementioned fought reacting to hearing that voice say his name that way. Like it was air and he'd been drowning. Charles simply replied crisply, "Erik." The man's relieved look turned to one of confusion when he took in his old friend. "You're standing."
"Very astute of you, Erik," Charles said with slight derision. "In a bathrobe." At that, Charles glanced down at himself. So he was. Suddenly he felt silly but he pushed that aside. "Why are you here, Erik?"
What he'd wanted to say; Why did you leave, Erik?
But he digressed. The man gestured inside. "May I come in?" No, Charles immediately thought, but that part of him that made those thoughts pop into his sober mind took over and moved aside. He entered and turned to Charles. "I'm here because I need you." The wording and it's double entendre made Charles swallow, thick with emotion. "Care to elaborate?" Oh, I hope he means what I want him to mean.
"I need you."
"Yes, caught that bit. What do you need?" The man sighed and met the other's eyes. "I mean to make an impassioned speech but knowing you, you already know that." Charles shook his head. "No I don't. You asked me to stay out of your head and I am." Not a total lie, Charles thought. The man smiled that shark's smile and sighed. "I appreciate that. Can we go to your study and do this?" Charles nodded hesitantly and followed him.
When they got there, the man sat instinctively in the chair he occupied all those years ago and Charles sat opposite. He sighed and settled forward, elbows on knees, regarding Charles. Charles waited patiently. "You mean to make me say it out loud?"
"I'd like you to, yes." He smiled again and cleared his throat. "Charles, I had a whole big thing planned but sitting here, now it feels silly so I'll cut to the point." Charles nodded, heart daring to squeeze in hope. "I know you don't feel the same for me, but I have to say it. I love you. You couldn't hear all the things I was thinking on that beach. Those humans were planning on killing us. Killing you. I was so angry, I couldn't think straight. I wanted to tell you all of it, but they way you looked at me when I held you... I couldn't do it. So I left and it was the hardest thing I ever did. I thought for so long that I ruined your life. I thought I paralyzed you, but it seems I was wrong."
"No, you did. I was paralyzed. However, I figured out a way to fix it." Erik's eyes widened. Then he grinned. "Of course you did." Charles smiled back, feeling a weight lift off his chest as he processed what Erik said. He loved him. Oh, the very thing he wanted to hear for so long, it was exactly what Erik said. After a time, Erik stood, confusing Charles. "Well, since I've said what I had to say, I'll get out of your hair," and that's when Charles broke. "No, don't!" He froze, turning back. "Why? To keep me around when you don't feel the same? That's cruel."
"No, that isn't it, Erik, let me finish." Slight anger radiated off him but he stayed silent. "You said you couldn't say it because of how I looked at you on the beach. Well, on that beach I thought the only person I ever truly loved was doing the very thing we both wanted to stop. I thought you were betraying me and everything I believed in. Of course I was hurt." This made Erik's eyes widen. "I love you, Erik, and I wanted to tell you even before Cuba. I wanted to since you turned that dish out there. But I thought you didn't feel the same. I didn't stop you leaving because I never wanted to control you. I made that promise and I won't break it." Erik seemed to sag in relief hearing this. So Charles stood and strode over to Erik, capturing him to him and holding him like he'd float away. Erik was slightly shocked but hugged back just as hard. "God, I missed you." Charles grinned maniacally at that. "And I you, love." He pulled back to see Erik grinning. "You called me love." Charles nodded. "That's terribly British of you."
"Hush," Charles admonished before being surprised with a kiss that melted him. He returned it and Erik smiled. "I like it, liebling," he murmured and oh God, Charles refused to betray how Erik speaking to him in German made him feel. Erik's hand was at the back of his skull and he was gone. He knew he'd never get over Erik and he hoped Erik felt the same. Then, he suddenly heard Erik's thoughts and panicked because he knew the serum was wearing off. His thoughts were loud, so he was projecting them. Ich liebe dich, Ich liebe dich, over and over. Because Charles was slightly in Erik's mind, he knew what it meant and he melted even more. I love you, I love you, I love you. Suddenly, he didn't care about his legs giving out, because Erik telling him that he loved him in his mother tongue was enough to make him never want the stupid serum again.
Then his legs did give out and Charles collapsed against Erik, who caught him easily. He broke away and regarded the other man with concern. "Charles?"
"My solution is wearing off. Can you help me sit down?" Erik nodded immediately and set him into his chair gingerly. "What do you need?" Charles grimaced as the voices got louder and louder. "Hank..." He managed and Erik dissapeared, yelling the doctor's name.
With Erik gone momentarily, Charles pressed his palms against his ears, whimpering as they got even louder. How had he ever lived with this many voices in his head at once? He wanted a drink, badly, but he knew if he did that Erik would see right through his ruse. He couldn't have Erik see him that way. Not now.
Within moments, Charles heard Erik's loud thoughts before he heard his running footsteps along with Hank's. Please be okay, liebling. I can't lose mein schatz again. Charles found himself smiling faintly as he heard Erik call him his 'treasure'. Hank was next to him in moments with his syringe and the vial of golden fluid. Erik was right behind, looking more concerned than he'd ever seen the man.
As Hank loaded the syringe, Charles heard Hank project at him; What's he doing here, Professor? Charles replied in kind; He's here to change, Hank.
Later, once Charles and Erik had finished talking, Erik told him that he wasn't leaving him again and had brought all of his things, just in case Charles had said yes. This had made Charles beam happily and they had gotten him settled in. Charles had suggested the room adjacent to his own but Erik said he wanted to be closer. So Erik convinced him to let him move into Charles' own room.
Charles was getting ready for bed when Erik passed through the ensuite and paused to press a chaste kiss to Charles' cheek that made the shorter man's cheeks burn. He spat the toothpaste from his mouth into the sink and rinsed his mouth before following the metal bender into their bedroom. (The thought that it was their bedroom made Charles happier than he remembered being.) Erik was settled on top of the covers on the left side, watching him go round to the other side, and Charles got into bed.
"This doesn't make you uncomfortable, does it?" The man asked as Charles got settled. This made Charles' brows raise. "What, you being here?"
"No, me being in your bed." Charles bit back a remark at the double entendre and shook his head. "I suggested the other room so you would be comfortable. I let it be your idea, however." Erik smirked. "Of course you did, liebling." Charles felt his chest tighten again at the term of endearment. "Let's get some sleep, yes? Long day," Charles suggested and Erik nodded, getting under the covers and settling so he faced the shorter man. Charles moved to turn off the lamp but Erik made a gesture with his hand and they both switched off. Charles smiled warmly, giving the man a peck in thanks and laying down to sleep.
AN:
translations:
liebling - darling
Ich liebe dich - I love you
mein schatz - my treasure
this started really angsty then turned into domestic fluff. Gah, that's always how it ends with me; domestic fluff. Anyway, I just wanted to put that in this Charles is a functioning alcoholic rather than a completely sloppy drunk that most people put his as. (Not that it isn't canon-compliant or anything.) I just wanted to be different, sue me.
