Erik, despite his eagerness, kissed the telepath with a gentleness that Charles would never have expected. Slowly, Charles's eyes eased closed, allowing himself the small pleasure of enjoying the kiss. Erik was a rather handsome man, and if circumstances were different, Charles thought that he could have loved the taller mutant. Charles definitely felt an attraction to Erik- more than he'd ever felt for any woman who had shared his company and his bed- but the sweetness of attraction was marred by the bitterness of imprisonment.
Erik had control of every moment they had together. Charles had no right to deny, refuse, fight, or hate Erik. Erik had the right to take, to possess, to own Charles. If Erik ordered or requested him to do something, Charles was expected to obey. Even now, Charles was expected to accept his kiss and maybe even kiss him back. Charles wanted to push Erik away, make him stop, but the pleasure Erik projected flooded Charles's senses, confusing Charles and making him wonder if the pleasure was Erik's or his own.
Then, as quickly as the kiss began, it was over. Erik had pulled away with an unexpected ferocity, breathing heavily with his eyes screwed shut as if he was in pain. His head hung low as his lungs heaved, and he'd put quite a bit of space between them. Charles felt his distress in waves, and he desperately wanted to soothe him with his mind.
"Erik?" He questioned, reaching out. Erik dodged the hand, stepping back further. Charles's eyebrows scrunched up, confused. He called out to the metal bender again.
"That is truly how you feel? You feel such revulsion for me that you hate my touch?" Erik asked, and realization dawned on him. Charles would still need to get used to not being in control of his own powers and what he projected.
Erik, as a non-telepath, would have no way of sorting out the mess of Charles's emotions being projected to him. He would've just felt the strongest ones, with no context for why Charles felt that way. He also probably would have missed the small twinge of arousal and pleasure from Charles, the flame being snuffed out by the waves of negative emotions.
Charles was, once again, unsure of what he should do. He wanted to comfort Erik, tell him that he only hated the slavery, the collar. Charles enjoyed the kiss, but he hated what it meant, what it reminded him of. However, this showed Erik exactly how Charles felt. The confusion, the pain. It also gave Charles a sense of power to be able to hurt Erik with his emotions.
However, Charles couldn't bear the look of agony on Erik's weathered face. "I don't hate your touch, Erik. I hate being a slave. I hate being owned, being expected to accept your affections. I was my own man, Erik. You stripped me of my title, my rights, and my humanity. I'm no longer considered a human- not really. I'm merely a whore, Erik. I used to be able to make decisions for myself, for a whole kingdom. Now, the only decision I get to make is nothing. I must defer to you, always, because you're supposed to make all the decisions for me. I used to decide the fate of millions, and now I can't even decide my own. I want choices again, Erik. The only decisions I am allowed to make are the ones you allow, and I hate that," Charles said harshly, unable to hold it in once he'd started.
A normal owner of a telepath would beat him or rape him for his disrespectful tone; they'd call it teaching him his place and giving him a lesson. Charles would call it what it was- assault. However, they had a right to. By law, Charles wasn't considered a person any longer. No matter who he had been, what he'd done, he was still a telepath. He was still someone to be used to gain pleasure.
Erik went to grab Charles, but then the King recoiled his hands, staring at the former king with such longing that Erik looked like a starving man rather than a King to Charles. Erik spoke vehemently, "I have never thought of you as lesser than me, Charles. In fact, I believe you to be a better man than me."
"Yet you collar me and subject me to the cruelty of others' eyes," Charles growled, eyes hard. Erik shut his own eyes, taking deep breaths. When he opened his eyes again, Charles couldn't tell how he felt behind his blue-grey depths. Erik reached out, his long, sinewy fingers gently tracing his jawline. His hand drifted up, thumb now stroking his left cheek. They stared into each other's eyes, a silent battle of wills.
Then, "I can't let you go now."
Charles yanked his face away, turning toward the wall behind him. Erik's hand fell away, unsure of what to do. Erik pleaded, "Charles, surely there must be something else that will make you happy. Tell me what I can do."
"You can do whatever you want. You are the King of this castle," Charles said spitefully, coldly.
I'm the King who loved another man too much, Erik thought ruefully.
Thankfully, Charles had no knowledge of his thoughts.
Only his unending sadness.
