Archive of Our Own ^beta

Erika was sitting at the table across Charles, staring down at her coffee cup like her life depended on it. It was a bit strange – because Erika didn’t eat breakfasts with him, always up much earlier. Charles decided not to comment on that. He quite enjoyed the woman’s company and didn’t want to make her resign from spending more time with him.

Another strange thing was Erika’s haircut. She had to do it herself overnight. She cut them short, even shorter than his own were. It was slightly chopped, not bad overall, but didn’t seem to be fit for a woman.

It was also a matter Charles decided to not voice his opinion on; Erika probably didn’t want to hear such thoughts. That’s why after his first few attempts at starting a conversation failed, he resorted to just sitting there in silence. He wanted to believe that it wasn’t awkward.

Aiming to just take a quick glance at her, he lifted his head just in time to meet Erika’s eyes. Surprised, he could feel heat color his cheeks. As much as… atypical she wouldn’t be, Erika was an attractive woman. She didn’t really act like one; only ever wore trousers, spoke and acted with the mannerism closer to this of a man. Charles always thought it was because of her upbringing, or rather the lack of a proper one. He didn’t fault her. Truth be told, he didn’t even mind.

Erika wasn’t like the women he flirted with at parties when he was still a student. From his experience, they usually were interested in very few things involving him, one of them being sex and another being his money.

Erika has not once showed interest in either, and sometimes Charles caught himself almost regretting it. He was thinking about his companion in that second context probably more often than it was appropriate to – because Erika could be breathtaking when she wanted to, and if Charles could somehow manage to convince her to lose the overly modest rags she wore, he was sure he’d find beauty underneath.

Erika didn’t seem to wish to show him any more skin than her face and hands, though. Not that this made Charles any less motivated.

Now, looking in Erika’s grey eyes, his mind clouded with every possible thing he could say to not make it more awkward, to make her like him too. What does he need to say or do to make her notice his efforts?

Erika’s cheeks became slightly pink, and he tried hard to tell himself that it wasn’t her embarrassment at his behavior. What does he do?

Erika didn’t seem to register his panic. She opened her mouth, closed it, got up and left Charles sitting in a hotel’s cafeteria alone.

Charles’ gaze followed her as she walked out, but he was too stunned to go after her. When she disappeared behind the door he looked back at her coffee cup, abandoned on the table.

He couldn’t for the life of him understand her.

★★★★★

Erik hurried back to his hotel room, his boots quiet on the carpet laid out in the corridor. Stupid, stupid idiot. The cafeteria was almost empty, but someone still could hear. He couldn’t just go around and say such things in public, and he almost did it again.

The door to the hotel room slammed shut behind him, and soon the bathroom door did the same. For a moment he felt like he was trashing around the place, not knowing what to do with himself, torn between looking in a mirror and slamming his fist into it.

It wasn’t the first time he almost told Charles the truth about himself. It also wasn’t the first time he chickened out like a coward. He’s been guarding his secret for so long, wearing men’s clothes, binding his chest and pretending he was born this way since he escaped from Shaw’s hands, but Charles has met him as Erika. He called him that name in the water, and Erik never corrected him.

He demanded Charles to stay out of his head exactly because of this. He couldn’t let Charles know this before he was sure that it’s safe. He needed to know whether Charles was someone who’d cheer while the Institute of Sexual Science burned.

Travelling with Charles was… strange. Being alone meant he could be himself. It was difficult to go back to talking about himself as if he was a woman, to being perceived as one – but Erik had learned to prioritize safety over identity. He thought he will only have to pretend for a short while; then Charles convinced him to stay, and days stretched out into weeks, and Erik felt like he was suffocating.

Charles claimed to know everything about him that day, but he was lying. If he did he wouldn’t call him Erika, he wouldn’t smile at him that way. He wouldn’t laugh at his unfunny jokes and flirt and make innuendos, because Erik was a man. If Charles saw him as one, he wouldn’t do it all.

He wanted to tell Charles. He wanted Charles to know. He wanted Charles to see him for who he was.

The problem was… well, the problem was Charles. Or, rather, more accurately: the problem was what Charles made Erik feel about him. Erik didn’t plan to like him so much; given the fact that he didn’t plan to like him at all, he had no idea how could he let this happen. Liking Charles, though (worded in this exact, unspecified way), made Erik care about being called the right name and not, in the worst case scenario, slurs. One side of him was convinced Charles could never; the other saw his past, his upbringing, his lifestyle. Charles was a rich white man who felt right with the body he was born into and fucked people of the opposite gender. If there was any social group Erik would expect to hear slurs from it was the one Charles belonged to.

Erik couldn’t let Charles’ opinion matter, but he was aware that he already has. He’s already let Charles’ nice words and flirtatious smiles get to him, even if he knew that they were meant for Erika, not Erik.

Regardless of whether Charles accepts him or not, he would never hear or see them again. Because Charles wouldn’t flirt with a man; not one that was born a man and definitely not one that wasn’t.

It didn’t bother him at all, of course. He didn’t care for Charles’ affection. He didn’t need it. He didn’t want it. His feelings for Charles had to be just a temporary infatuation caused by his gentlemanly behavior. The way he opened doors for Erik, held an umbrella for him – it just confused Erik, so unused to it and made him fold. There was nothing more to it.

He glanced in the mirror. His jaw was pretty sharp, manly, his eyebrows bushy. The turtleneck somehow covered the lack of Adam’s apple. His hair looked better now. He could imagine that he was looking at a man’s face. He was looking at a man’s face. His hands gripped the sink. He was tall, he had an athletic build, the jacket he wore partially hid his curves. If someone saw him on a street, during a misty or rainy day, they would think he’s a man. He is a man, and what Charles thinks doesn’t matter.

“Erika?” he suddenly heard. Erika. Erika. Erika.

His head snapped to the side and he saw Charles standing in the doorway. He immediately thought that he must look weird, hunched over the sink and distressed. If Charles looked closer, he would probably find some hair in the sink and on the floor. Remains of Erik’s nighttime breakdown.

He’s let his hair grow out too long while with Charles. He couldn’t stand the sight of himself in the mirror (well, even more than usually). He tried to ignore it, turn his gaze away, knowing that Charles would notice if he cut them – but he was done with hating another part of himself, one that he could easily change.

“My apologies” Charles said, smiling weakly. “I didn’t want to frighten you”

Of course. Of course he didn’t. He didn’t intrude Erik’s privacy, didn’t enter his room uninvited until now. Erik liked that, liked the temporary solitude he got to enjoy. Well, whether he was really enjoying it was debatable, but it had its advantages – he could drop the mask, lie curled up in bed and try to convince himself that how he was viewed by Charles didn’t matter.

“You didn’t” he lied. His voice was too high. Too feminine. Erika’s voice. It made Erik want to claw at his throat.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I just… let myself in, you didn’t answer my knocking. Is everything alright?”

What knocking? Erik didn’t hear anything. Did he really got so worked up about it all he detached himself from the real world completely?

“Yes. I just got lost in thought”

“Oh” Charles mumbled. His smile looked less worried now, as if it had softened. “A penny for your thoughts, perhaps?”

Erik could feel as his hands – still clenched around the sink – began sweating. God, should he? Was this the moment in which Charles learned the truth about him?

He looked away from him and met his own gaze in the mirror again. He’s rehearsed it so many times and he still didn’t know how to say it. My name is Erik. Call me Erik. I feel like a man. I am a man. Look at me like I am one. Don’t look at me at all. Not if your view of me is going to change. Please change it. Please don’t. I’m a man. Will you still like me if I’m a man? Will you believe me that I’m one?

He had no idea. He wished he’d never agreed to staying. He wished Charles really knew everything about him. It would spare him all the fear, uncertainty and humiliation of baring his identity to someone. To Charles.

“Erika?”

And then he could hear a word fall from his mouth; as if he wasn’t the one who said it. As if Erik in the mirror was the one responsible for what will happen next.

“Erik”

His throat felt dry and tight, barely letting him speak, but his voice was deeper now. It was the voice he’s been practicing since he was a teenager. To sound more like a man.

“I’m… sorry?”

The blood rushing in his ears almost drowned out Charles’ words.

“Erik. My name is Erik” he choked out. He couldn’t take it back now. He fixed his eyes on the white porcelain of the sink; his knuckles almost matched it with color. He was so terrified of looking at Charles again he thought he might cry. “I am a man. Transsexual. Please- please don’t call me Erika anymore”

Oh god.

Charles still stood in the doorway like paralyzed. He had no idea what to say to that.

My name is Erik. I am a man.

Was this a recent thing? A new discovery? Is this why Charles was presented with a new haircut today? Or was it something hidden from him, the reason why his companion seemed so atypical, so closed off? Charles didn’t know; he didn’t even know what to think.

Transsexual. Those people were talked about with revolt in hushed voices and condescending tones, only when children couldn’t hear – and now one of them was standing in front of him. It was someone he knew (or at least he thought he did), someone he liked, someone who he cared for.

“Oh, dear. I…” he muttered, completely lost. What was he supposed to do? How should he react to this sudden revelation?

He noticed that his friend’s shoulder began shaking slightly. He didn’t know what to do; he wanted to somehow help, and saying “I don’t think I understand” didn’t seem appropriate at all. He let go of the door handle and slowly walked closer to Erik, waiting for a sign to perhaps back off.

“I have to admit that you’ve… surprised me” he said. He saw how Erik’s eyes shut aggressively, as if trying to stop tears. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to- understand, okay?” he quickly added.

He saw the first tears stream down Erik’s face. The metal tap bended slightly with a shriek.

His hand gently touched Erik’s arm, ready to take it away if he realized that he should.

“Erik…” he said slowly; testing the way this name fit into his mouth and rolled of his tongue. If this was how Erik wished to be called, he would get used to it. It shouldn’t be hard – after all, it was just one vowel.

Suddenly he got pulled closer, and before he could do anything he was trapped in a hug. A wave of heat rolled through him when he felt Erik’s strong arms press their bodies together. After a second he regained control of himself and returned the hug. Erik’s body was shaking with sobs, and soon Charles’ shoulder became wet with tears.

Erik. God, yes. He wanted to scream, to repeat it a thousand times over. Erik, Erik, my name is Erik. He couldn’t say anything, though; only quiet cries escaped his mouth. Erik. For the first time he heard it from Charles, from someone that mattered.

“Shh, Erik, it’s alright” Charles muttered. It didn’t feel entirely like the truth, but he needed to say it. For both of them. Perhaps he just wanted to believe it.

★★★★★

Charles was, to put it simply, staring. Again.

It was especially unnerving since he was also silent for a really long while. Longer than Erik would have thought he’s capable of. He ignored it as best as he could, focusing on the road instead. Or rather trying to focus on it, because he couldn’t stop thinking about the blue eyes he felt on himself.

It wasn’t really anything new. There were quick glances, lingering gazes, but Charles was never so outward in staring at him. Not until Erik told him the truth about himself.

It was a bit unnerving and very confusing; he had no idea what to think about it. Charles called him his preferred name, didn’t mention the whole situation and Erik’s little breakdown, which he was grateful for. On the other hand he didn’t know what Charles was actually thinking, and getting constantly surveyed like he was an intriguing specimen on a Petri dish did not help with not worrying.

He saw what happened to people like him when he was too young to realize that he’s one of them. He knew that there were people who denounced, reported to Gestapo, caused their death. He knew that the US was different from Third Reich, but not different enough for him to be safe. He’s learned to prioritize his safety. If Charles decided to betray him, he would have to return to his earlier life, to constantly being on the run.

One side of him said that Charles could never; the other was too paranoid to ever let himself be fooled.

He glanced in the mirror to see that Charles’ eyes were still on him. He felt his jaw twitch from the emotions overflowing him.

Focus on the road. He won’t crash the car because the guy he likes is staring at him. He won’t crash the car because that guy just so happened to give him hope for something more when he was a woman in his eyes and stopped when he realized Erik is not. He’s actually very normal about it and doesn’t feel anything at all.

If anything, he was feeling good. He was perceived as a man and could drop the act, let the caricature of Erika die. He had what he wanted. He was definitely happy.

“How far are we from the city?”

His voice broke the silence and made Charles’ body twitch slightly. He seemed startled, as if he was lost deep in his own mind – or as if staring at Erik absorbed him completely. He had to fought of the urge to shudder after that thought.

“About thirty miles” Charles replied after looking at the map. The sun was setting; it was about time to arrive to another hotel, get some sleep and then try to recruit another mutant. It’s became their routine, and Erik had to admit that he liked it. Maybe a little bit too much.

Maybe he liked the feeling of Charles’ eyes on him, too, but admitting to it was the furthest from safe he could ever go – and Erik has learned to prioritize his safety.

★★★★★

Charles was having… a bit of a crisis.

He told himself it was nothing too serious, and he was lying, and it was a terrible lie. How could it be nothing serious when he was witnessing his world and his view of himself shatter in front of him? How could it be nothing serious when he started questioning something he has never even thought about questioning before?

His feelings for Erik didn’t go away. He thought they would. God, he almost wished they would; almost, because he couldn’t bring himself to truly despise this situation. Maybe he should. Maybe he should start despising himself like his mother would – even more than she did when she was still alive, if she ever learned what he was currently thinking about.

Erik. Erik. Charles was almost shocked how easily Erik collected himself and went back to his normal behavior after the breakdown Charles saw in the hotel’s bathroom. Perhaps it shouldn’t be so surprising – after all, being a man was what Erik seemed to be made for. He was smiling more often since Charles learned the truth and accepted it, looking like something was lifted off his shoulders. He was talking more, and feeling better, and thriving as someone Charles thought he might have not known before. It was still Erik, though, and soon Charles realized his view of his friend didn’t change at all.

It should. Because Erik was a man, and Charles couldn’t be in love with the man he was. He just thought that he liked a woman that turned out to be an illusion, a costume, and that was fine. He could get over it.

Except, he didn’t, and that was exactly his goddamn problem. Because Charles Xavier only ever had relationships with women, and even if they were just flings, they were flings with women. He’s never looked at any man that way; and now his imagination opened a new door, and in his dreams instead of kissing Erika he was kissing Erik. He was fantasizing about Erik. He was in love with Erik.

He stared at the man from the passenger’s seat; he could almost feel how it would be to trace the outline of his jaw with his fingers, and how it would feel to place kisses right under it. He started nervously tapping on the door, trying to take his attention off Erik.

He couldn’t love a man. He couldn’t want a man this way. He would notice if he was gay before. Right? He would. And all of his relationship with women couldn’t be a lie, a delusion. He was attracted to them. Genuinely. He couldn’t just make his own emotions up.

He wasn’t like Erik. He wasn’t queer. He couldn’t be. What he thought to be love definitely was just fascination with the unknown, not real feelings. Right?

He almost sighed before he realized that Erik could hear him. He resolved to more intense tapping instead, until his fingers started to hurt and his mind calmed down a little. For the entire time, though, he still couldn’t take his eyes off Erik.

God, maybe he was a faggot after all.

★★★★★

A quiet knock at the door, and then a face above a chessboard. Just this and pink lips curved into a smile, asking him “fancy a game?” was enough to find himself sitting on a bed across Charles.

He liked their evenings with chess. They would grab something to drink, chat and avoid eye contact. Yes, definitely his favorite way to spend time these days.

There was one difference that shouldn’t be bothering him nearly as much as it did: Charles was way quieter than usually. The man was a true chatterbox, to the point where Erik would check whether he’s still awake when he closed his mouth for longer than five minutes. He had to admit that he was annoyed by it at first, but he got used to it – maybe even grew fond of having that constant background noise. The lack of it made the atmosphere feel a bit off.

Charles was fully aware of it. He could sense Erik’s curiosity about his silence. He was still hesitating to break it. He was afraid that the words that would come out of his mouth wouldn’t be welcomed.

The questions he had were burning, though. Too nagging, keeping him on the edge ever since Erik revealed his identity and Charles realized that it didn’t change anything.

When he thought of Erik as a woman, it was obvious to assume that “she” would be attracted to men. If he was a man, did it mean he was attracted to women only? Charles didn’t even understand how his own sexuality worked right now, so Erik’s was a complete mystery to him.

He looked up at Erik, who was thinking about his next move. His eyes were fixed on the chessboard, so Charles could admire him for a moment, take some time to rethink what he wanted to say once again.

“Erik?” he finally said, feeling as if that one word emptied his lungs completely, stopped him from taking in any more air. God, Erik wasn’t even looking at him and he was as breathless as if they were already making out.

“Yeah?” the man said, oblivious to Charles’ anxiety.

“Can I- I wanted to ask you a question, but I’m not sure if it’s… appropriate”

Erik furrowed his eyebrows, lifting his head to look at Charles for barely a second. It made Charles feel heat rise to his cheeks.

“A question about what?” he asked, lowering his gaze back to the chessboard.

If it was something not appropriate, only one thing came to his mind. He was surprised that Charles stopped himself from asking questions about his gender for so long.

“Uh, well… I was just wondering- you don’t have to answer if it’s like, offensive, or- ”

“Charles” he interrupted, looking at him with a slightly amused expression. “I’m not easily offended, you know” he said, finally deciding on his move.

“Right. Of course” Charles mumbled, visibly embarrassed. He proceeded to quickly make a move that Erik would describe as foolish at best.

“Ask away, then”

He stayed silent for a moment, staring at the chessboard.

“It’s just… since you said- well, you’re a man, but not… you weren’t…”

“Born with a man’s body” Erik finished for him. He was going to have some mercy. In the conversation territory, at least – in the game, he just took another one of Charles’ pawns.

“Uh, yes” Charles mumbled. He looked kind of cute flustered like that, and him worrying about not offending Erik actually meant… a lot. “So, if you could tell me… what gender are you attracted to?”

Erik blinked a few times, slightly confused. He expected something like “how did you know you’re a man” or “when did you realize”, so that question took him a bit off guard.

“I slept with both, if that’s what you’re asking about. I don’t think that’s relevant to my gender, though”

Oh. Charles found himself dumbfounded by this answer. Somehow it hasn’t occurred to him that both is an option.

Could it explain why he still thought about Erik that way? But he’s never felt drawn to men before. Did him being attracted to both genders even made sense?

“Oh. Okay. Thank you” he muttered, making another not very smart move.

“Any other questions?” Erik asked. Stressed and distracted Charles was way easier to defeat than he normally was, but it took away most of his satisfaction from winning.

“No” Charles quickly replied. He watched Erik’s hand move a black bishop and suddenly realized that he’s losing. If he kept being reckless with his moves the game will end soon, certainly not in his favor.

His hand shook a little when it hovered over the chessboard. One wrong move and he’ll lose. One wrong move and he’ll lose.

“Actually, yes”

He set his chess piece down, withdrawing his hand. His fingers curled into a fist on his lap.

He’s delayed his defeat, but for how long?

★★★★★

Erik clenched his jaw trying not to scream. Cold wind made his skin burn and his body trembled, but he couldn’t care less. He also couldn’t scream, which was very unfortunate.

Charles was right behind the wall. That fact obviously did not bother him at all and was not the cause of his nighttime venture to the balcony.

They always took separate rooms. Erik wasn’t used to closeness; just the presence of another person felt like an intrusion of privacy at times. He couldn’t stand the thought of being with someone 24/7, especially if that someone was Charles. Erik didn’t trust himself to be around him for so long.

This hotel didn’t have two rooms available. Erik was forced into Charles’ proximity. He did not panic at all, alright? He just basically kicked Charles out of the room in the evening, told him that he doesn’t want dinner and pretended to already be asleep when he came back. Totally normal behavior.

He also totally wasn’t panicking now. He did not watch Charles’ chest calmly rise and fall for minutes before daring to slip from his bed and deciding that he would be heard if he cried in the bathroom.

Charles stopped flirting with him, calling him darling, talking so much. Erik should be glad – it meant that Charles accepted he’s not a woman. Instead it made him feel like he’s dying. He wanted it, needed it so much more than he thought he did. The sudden lack of closeness, of unnecessarily prolonged eye contact, stupid jokes and accidental touches hit him out of the blue. What was even worse, it made him realize how much they meant, how much he actually liked – no, not liked, loved – Charles.

It would be better if this entire thing didn’t happen. It would be better if he wasn’t like this, odd, broken, lacking something. It would be better if he didn’t want to be a man, if he just could keep up with the act that started the moment he was born. His parents were always so proud of their little girl, so nice and pretty in her dresses and with ribbons in her long hair. It would be better if he grew up to be a nice and pretty woman, and he could be Charles’ nice and pretty girlfriend; and they would defeat the great evil and then live in their nice and pretty house with their nice and pretty children. If only Erika was real. She wouldn’t have to live without it all.

Erik had to. He couldn’t be Charles’ nice and pretty boyfriend; for that, he would have to be nice and pretty. He had to stop living that stupid fantasy before it could start. He had to move on, but how was he supposed to do it? Charles barely learned who Erik is and Erik was already losing his senses. He couldn’t stand Charles’ sudden indifference, couldn’t stand the knowledge that even if he could ever have him, he destroyed it simply by existing. So as he stared at Charles’ calm face in the dark and felt his eyes brim with tears, he knew he had to leave. Even if it was only a few meters away.

Maybe he should leave for good. Take his suitcase and give this mission up. Charles would manage without him, find mutants on his own and save the world alone. Charles would do just as well without him and Erik would somehow pick himself up. Slowly, but he would. Probably. Probably not.

His body grew so numb it didn’t even shiver anymore. His hands were clenched around the balustrade – the metal was so cold it felt like it was burning his skin. He managed to let go with difficulty. He almost couldn’t feel his fingers anymore but they burned when they were taken away from the metal they left marks in. He leaned against the wall, feeling that his legs won’t support him for much longer, and took a slow breath, frigid air filling his lungs. Burning. His eyes were full of tears; they burned as they streamed down his face. Everything was burning: his body, mind and heart.

And Erik burned and sobbed on the balcony floor, just as he always did – alone. Perhaps this is how he was meant to be. Alone, without his family, his people, anyone like him who could understand at least a piece of what he’s been through, without the man he fell for who couldn’t love him back.

Charles liked to defy every obviousness, though. He liked unbelievable theories and fantasizing about overcoming fate or succeeding against all odds, so Erik shouldn’t really be that surprised when the balcony door opened.

“Erik?!” the man said. It startled Erik, but he found himself unable to even show it. He felt like he was made from wood. “Are you alright?” he asked. Erik could hear panic in his voice.

His hair was ruffled and it was clear that he had just woken up. Erik tried not to stare as he crouched and reached out with his hand to put it on Erik’s arm. Erik didn’t move; truth be told, he wasn’t sure whether he could, even if he wanted to.

“Yes. Sorry” he muttered. His voice was hoarse, and his throat hurt.

“What on earth are you doing there?”

Erik cringed, embarrassed, realizing how does this situation look. He couldn’t just cry in front of Charles, because of Charles. He was being irrational.

“Sorry” he muttered again, clumsily trying to wipe his cheeks with the back of his numb hand. “It’s nothing. Leave me alone”

“Get back inside”

“Go back to sleep”

“Only if you go back inside” Charles demanded, not letting go of Erik even for a second. “It’s frigid here, do you want to catch something? Or get hypothermia?”

Looking at Charles’ worried expression – and then noticing that he was starting to shiver, too – Erik decided that, no, he doesn’t want to get either of them sick. He accepted the hand Charles offered him and got up from the floor. Trying to straighten his legs hurt. He was so numb he could barely stand.

He made sure to close the balcony door behind them with his power. Charles immediately let go of him after that, and Erik wanted to chase, to catch him, get him back. He wanted Charles back. He wanted the Charles who likes him back, he wanted Charles to like him for who he was – but he knew that these situations contradicted themselves. Either Charles accepted Erik or loved Erika.

He felt something wrap around him, and suddenly Charles was in front of him again, his hands still holding the blanket and duvet that were now around Erik’s shoulders.

“Come on. You must be freezing”

Charles led Erik deeper into the room and soon he was sitting on one of the beds – he wasn’t sure whose bed it was. He didn’t even know how it happened. He could feel as the warmth began to burn his skin now, just as cold did a moment ago.

And Charles was holding his hand. He was rubbing it and blowing his warm breath on it. That might have had something to do with the burning feeling.

“God, you’re so cold” he muttered. He touched Erik’s cheek with the back of his hand, his eyebrows furrowing even more.

He was so close, just a breath away. Perhaps Erik could kiss him and pretend to faint – or maybe he’d really faint if he did that.

“I think you should take a hot shower, just start with cold water and change it gradually... We’ll find a pharmacy in the morning, you’re going to need something to boost your immunity after this. Do you want something hot to drink? I’m going to- ”

“Charles”

The man’s eyes focused on Erik again. He felt Charles’ hand try to slip away from him, but he could barely move his own to grip it, to make him stay. He couldn’t let Charles go.

“Don’t” he said, his voice breaking. Don’t leave, don’t let go, don’t stop loving the person you saw in me. Am I really so different now? Am I not the one you flirted with just a few days ago? Am I not the one you wanted? I still want, Charles. Can’t you see it? Can’t you tell me whether I’m wasting my time hoping for something impossible?

“But- you need to warm up” Charles muttered, looking a bit startled. His concern for Erik was filling his mind at the moment, and he couldn’t just let him tremble like a leaf in the wind.

Erik shook his head slightly; his hand was cold and heavy in Charles’.

They locked eyes for a moment – Erik’s were still glistening with tears, burning bright as if he had a fever. Maybe he really had. Charles was fighting the urge to check that. Instead he smiled softly, relaxing the muscles in his hand, letting Erik know that he won’t try to get away.

“Okay” he said. His tone was tender now, almost making Erik feel like he’s being treated with condescendence. He didn’t understand that shift in Charles’ behavior. He was afraid that Charles might have looked into his mind trying to understand. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Erik didn’t know. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t just tell Charles how did he end up sobbing on the balcony. His body was trembling; he didn’t realize when it began doing so.

“Don’t know” he muttered. His teeth were chattering.

“That’s alright” Charles replied. “I really do think you should warm up, though. I’m worried about you”

“You- you were out there, too” Erik pointed out due to lack of a better thing to say.

“Only for a moment. I’ll be okay. Maybe at least let me make you that tea? Or lie down? Please?”

Charles felt a tug at his hand, and he followed behind it to sit next to Erik. His shaking hand clumsily threw the covers around Charles. He felt Erik’s body press to his, seeking the warmth, and soon he was holding Erik’s shivering form. He began to rub his hand against Erik’s back.

“It’s okay. You’re okay” Charles said, trying to somehow soothe him. He needed to check whether Erik didn’t have any signs of hypothermia. He had no idea for how long did that insane man spend on the balcony, dressed just in his goddamn pajamas.

“How did you know I was there?” Erik whispered, barely audible.

“I could sense something was wrong with my mutation” he said. Erik tensed slightly at the mention of telepathy – but soon he realized that now that Charles knows who he is, he doesn’t really have anything to hide. “When I woke up and saw you were gone… I got frightened you had left”

He could imagine that Charles would be bothered if he left without a word. It would certainly be an inconvenience, especially given his limited driving skills. And tendency to get distracted and forget about meals. But getting frightened?

“Why?”

“Well, you almost did once”

Erik could see that moment when he closed his eyes. How foolish it would be of him if he left then.

“I didn’t”

He’d rather not admit that he wanted to. It was unbearable to think about, but he liked the perspective of Charles worrying whether he will stay or not.

“And I won’t”

“Yeah” Charles whispered with a smile. “I’m sure you won’t leave the bed for the next couple of days”

Erik grimaced but didn’t say anything – annoying Charles could result in losing the source of heat he needed so much at the moment. Another shiver ran through is body, making him press closer to Charles’.

“Sorry” he whispered; he was acting so clingy.

“Don’t be, we’re alright. You didn’t do anything wrong”

“I- ” Erik began – because, god, there were so many things he did do wrong, and so many he could still mess up. He had a feeling that he was going to mess up now, again. “Do you still like me?”

“What?” Charles asked, a bit dumbfounded. “We’re friends. Of course I like you. Why wouldn’t I?”

Erik shifted in his embrace. He took away his head, until now leaned against Charles’ torso, and looked at Charles’ face. At the blue eyes gazing at him with concern and pink lips barely visible in the faint light.

He put his hand in his hair, on the back of his head. He felt the man shiver under his touch; his skin was still cold. Charles’ lips parted, as if he wanted to ask him what is he doing, but he couldn’t – not before Erik pressed their lips together.

God, he thought. God, Charles, I’m giving you all the reasons to.

But Charles didn’t pull back; his hands brought Erik closer, their teeth clashed in a messy kiss. It probably should hurt, but Erik’s lips were too numb. The covers slipped from his shoulders. Charles’ hands were on his waist, and hips, and Erik was too aware of his breasts pressing against Charles’ chest. Charles had to feel it, too; he had to be thinking about a fantasy that formed when Erika still existed for him. Maybe she still did. Maybe it was her who Charles was kissing.

So Erik did what he could do best: pushed Charles away.

He rapidly stood up from the bed, frantically trying to untangle himself from the blanket and Charles’ arms. It wasn’t easy when he was barely able to control his limbs.

“What- Erik?” Charles asked. His hair was even more ruffled than before, his eyes staring straight at Erik. Erik wished he would stop looking at him for once.

“We can’t- we have to stop that” he mumbled. He felt his eyes brim with tears again. Fucking hell. He always had to ruin everything good he had.

“But- why? I thought you…?”

“Because I want you to see me as I am!” he yelled. His jaw clenched when pain shot through his throat, and when he remembered they were still in a hotel, with other guests who could potentially hear him. They would think it’s a woman screaming. Emotional, irrational. It’d be better if he punched a fucking hole in the wall. “You don’t like me, Charles” he continued in a lower tone. “You like the woman that doesn’t exist. And I don’t- ! I can’t be with you when you want someone I’m not”

“Erik- ”

“No! I don’t want your pity- mph!” he mumbled when he got rapidly cut off by Charles’ lips on his. He could feel his useless limp body falling forward; he ended up leaning on Charles, standing just because of his support.

“You’re right. We shouldn’t be doing this” Charles said, his hand brushing Erik’s hair out of his forehead. “You’re burning up. Warm up and go to bed”

“But…” he tried to protest, dumbfounded. Maybe he froze on that balcony and was now hallucinating.

“Erik” Charles said, looking at him in a way that made him melt. If his legs didn’t give up already, they would do it now. “Regardless of what you think, I see you as a man now. And I think I love that man”

Okay. Hallucinating. And soon he might also get a heart attack.

“You- you gave me kind of a crisis, to be honest, because I’ve never- but that’s not important right now. Let’s make sure that you won’t end up in a hospital. Can you feel your fingers again?”

Erik let out a short laugh, still shocked. Charles just looked at him with growing concern. He started to wonder whether he shouldn’t do something and try to lower Erik’s temperature already. He didn’t want the man delirious by the time he could leave to find the closest pharmacy.

“Charles…” he uttered, breathless.

“Erik” Charles responded, only making him smile wider. “I think we should get you back to bed. You’re still shivering”

“I think you should kiss me”

“I also think you should rethink that hot shower” he said, but Erik could feel his lips press against his head for a second. “What about your ears? Nose? Toes? Are they still numb? You should definitely check what color they are. I don’t think anything will be worse than your fingers but it’s still good to know. Besides, cold wind is literally drying your skin, do you know how much moisturizer it will take so it doesn’t peel and crack?”

“Charles”

“Right. Sorry” he muttered. He didn’t sound sorry at all. “We’ll take care of that later”

Erik smiled against Charles’ shoulder; the tears in his eyes threatened to fall, but he didn’t let them.

Charles helped him get back to bed, still rambling something about hypothermia, blood flow, hydration and hand creams. Erik pulled him close once again, making him lie down too. His stiff body straight up melted into the warm embrace. He really didn’t mean to fall asleep, but somehow he did anyway. He chose to blame Charles’ arm around him.

Surely they will take care of everything tomorrow.