Peace Offering

[thatnaive]

Charles rubbed his eyes and rolled over to glance at the clock. 2:30 AM. Brilliant. There was no point in continuing to feign sleep. He knew if he tried, Erik's nightmares would only wake him again. His new(ish) friend was staying in the room next to his, and the intensity of his emotions was too much to ignore. It was as though someone were screaming in his ear. It was impossible to block out, and the pain that Erik was obviously going through was distressing the natural mother hen that lurked inside Charles' conscience.

With a quiet groan, he sat up and slipped out of bed, pulling on a pair of pajama pants over his boxers. Erik wasn't going to let Charles in that easily. He had to come with a peace offering, so it was to the kitchen that his fuzzy-slipper-enclosed feet led him. Stifling a yawn, Charles rummaged through the cupboards. His first thought was to bring tea, but on second thought, tea just wasn't an option. Instead he felt back around the fridge, fingers closing around a bottle and bringing it towards him. Champagne. Perfect.

Charles picked up two glasses and exited the kitchen before heading back upstairs. He hesitated for a moment at Erik's door, then finally reached out and knocked softly.

"Erik, it's Charles. I know you're awake."

Comments

nngh. my heart.

[cerebroed.livejournal.com]

The abrupt contact made Charles jump and tense up even more, but once he realized what was going on, he couldn't help himself. It was alright for now, just to fall apart completely. He found himself gripping Erik tightly, his body shuddering with sobs because oh those memories, he'd forgotten how badly it had hurt. He tucked his head into Erik's collarbone and just let it all go.

He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd fallen apart like this. Years, probably. Charles did his best to tuck his past firmly behind him and press on with the future. He concerned himself more with others than with himself, and because of that, there had been a lot of emotion bottled up inside that he had never let spill out.

Yet somehow this wasn't embarrassing, crying his heart out against Erik's shoulder in the dead of night. In the past few moments they had come to know each other in the most intimate of ways. There were no secrets between them. They knew everything there was to know about the other, in the way that only a telepath could open up. They had endured each other's heartache, and together, they would learn to move past it.

Charles couldn't speak just yet, but he acknowledged Erik's comment with a mental reply. It's quite alright, Erik. A warm glow of emotion accompanied the words.

After what felt like ages, Charles finally fell silent, his smaller body limp in Erik's arms as he sniffled and shivered. His nose had bled slightly from the effort he'd put out, so a lovely mixture of sweat, tears, snot, and blood had been running down his face for the past few minutes.

"I feel awful," he mumbled against Erik's shoulder.

I'm going to confiscate that icon

[sublifter.livejournal.com]

Erik scoffed at Charles' underwhelming statement. "Obviously."

Since the worst was over, Erik pushed Charles off of him a ways so he could assess the damage. Well, he'd seen worse but that didn't make Charles' condition any more attractive.

He reached out his hand and a small metal box hit it obediently. Inside was a traveler's package of Kleenex, and he pulled a single tissue, which he put to Charles' nose, as he were a child who didn't know how to stop his own nosebleed. After a moment, Erik realized how silly that was, and forcefully replaced his hand with Charles'. "Hold this. I'll be back."

There was a conjoined bathroom, in which he turned on a faucet and soaked a hand towel. A glance in the mirror showed that Charles had given his shirt the same treatment as his face, so that came right off and into the sink once the towel was safely out of range. He plugged the sink and filled the basin with cold water so the blood wouldn't harden and stain, then wrung out the towel just enough so it wouldn't drip.

That nice damp towel made a trip straight to the top of Charles' head, where it stayed while Erik made himself comfortable on the bed again.

[cerebroed.livejournal.com]

Charles was having difficulty just holding himself up on his own. He let Erik push him into whatever position he wanted with no complaint, his wide eyes watching his friend with complete trust. He couldn't keep back a small smile at Erik's kindness.

That damp towel was doing wonders for him. His eyes closed and he sighed quietly. The bed bowed slightly as Erik sat back down, and Charles opened his eyes again.

Nearly all his strength was spent, and almost without thinking, he leaned over to sprawl across the bed, head resting in Erik's lap.

"You are an extraordinarily kind person when you want to be," he murmured, eyes closing again.

He shifted slightly, his head facing upwards so that the damp rag was held in place by gravity rather than the extra energy it would take to hold it there himself. He was paler than his usual fair tone, the shadows under his eyes accented even in the darkness of the room. The bloodied kleenex had fallen to rest in the hollow between his neck and collarbone, soaking up the sweat there.

[sublifter.livejournal.com]

"When the situation calls for it." That was his way of saying not to expect it very often, and that this was a special occasion.

He picked up the dirty Kleenex by a lone clean corner and flung it off onto the floor somewhere, not caring if the perfect room had one little piece of trash lying about, then plucked the towel off Charles' head to wipe Charles' face off. It would've been easier to have him go wash his own damn face, but the man was practically an invalid at the moment.

"You know Charles, for such a brilliant man, you have the tendency to make the worst decisions possible. I don't know how you've survived this long." If they'd stayed under for much longer, they both might've died, and then what would've happened? The world would've been annihilated by Shaw, and Erik's revenge would have gone unfulfilled, all because they wanted to get to know each other better. "We could have done it the normal way if you hadn't suggested that."

[cerebroed.livejournal.com]

Charles chuckled, his eyes staying shut as he relaxed more. Erik really was quite comfortable, and it had been a very long time since someone had taken care of him like this. He was tired, his head hurt, this was a great time for a bonding moment...the list of excuses went on and on.

"Brilliance often has little to do with common sense, my friend," he said quietly in reply. "How could anything new be learned if it weren't for experimentation? Science would get nowhere at all."

There was a moment of companionable silence and he stifled a yawn. I think I need a drink.

[sublifter.livejournal.com]

Charles might have meant that as a joke, but it was too close to the tail end of Erik's latest nightmare for science to contain any spark of humor for him. Irritated at the reminder when he'd been doing such a good job of avoiding it, he dropped the towel directly on Charles' face, where it landed with a heavy splat.

"If you're hiding something less bubbly up your sleeve, you can count me in on that. Otherwise you're on your own." Erik had most definitely reached the hard liquor stage of the night, and champagne wasn't going to do anything more for him.

To his credit, he did reach back and grab the champagne bottle even though he wasn't going to have any himself, so he wasn't entirely rude. He handed it to Charles so he could... chug it from the bottle maybe, he wasn't sure, but Erik wasn't moving to grab the glasses, too.

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED

[cerebroed.livejournal.com]

"Erik!" Charles complained, tossing the rag onto the floor. His form of retaliation, however, was laughable. He merely rubbed his nose against Erik's stomach in what could only be defined as a playful nuzzle.

"I think there's something behind my bookshelf," he replied with something of a yawn, his nose still brushing Erik's skin. "I didn't want the children to find it."

It was amusing how easily Charles had fallen into the habit of referring to the rest of them as children. Even Raven was lumped into that category, though she wasn't much younger than he. In reality, none of the 'children' were that much younger, only a few years. The only one that might have the right to call anyone children around here was Erik. He was the oldest, after all.

He instinctively took the proffered bottle and sat up just a bit. He was still leaning against Erik, though now his back was propped against the other's shoulder.

Want to see something groovy?

Oh yes, Charles was going to chug that champagne.

HE DIDN'T MEAN ALL AT ONCE, JEEZ

[sublifter.livejournal.com]

The abrupt... nuzzle was one of the strangest reactions to having a towel dropped one's face that Erik had ever seen, and for a few moments he just stared at Charles, unsure of how to respond to that.

Finally, with the comment about the hiding of the liquor, he had something to help him move past that moment. "Good call."

It made sense for the good stuff to be hidden where their resident teens couldn't get their hands on it. He was about to push Charles off and get up to retrieve it when suddenly his companion was sitting up and leaning on him with his full weight, and Erik didn't want to have Charles fall back and hit his head on the bed frame just so he could have a drink.

At Charles' preferred catchphrase, he raised an eyebrow. "Whenever you say that, I get the feeling that I'm about to witness something utterly ridiculous and embarrassing for the both of us." Despite that, his curiosity was piqued. "But by all means, enlighten me."

NEXT TIME YOU SHOULD SPECIFY BEFORE CHARLES GETS EXCITED

[cerebroed.livejournal.com]

Charles smirked cheekily and popped open the bottle. This wasn't nearly as fun with champagne, but it was still fun to show off every now and again.

He raised the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back, taking long swallows of the bubbly liquid. Slowly, steadily, the bottle began to empty.

Finally, he pulled the now empty bottle from his lips and took in a great gasp of air, grinning rather crookedly at his friend.

[okay you got lucky, i woke up early and wrote this because sleeping on the carpet is anything but comfortable. but anyway, i don't know when i'll be able to get back to you. don't miss charles too much, mkay?]

HE SHOULDN'T HAVE TO, YOU CRAZY PARTIER

[sublifter.livejournal.com]

By the time Charles had gotten to the bottle, it wasn't exactly full, but there was still a substantial amount. Enough for the chugging to be a semi-impressive feat, anyway. What kind of breath control must that take, to purposefully force enough liquid down your throat to the point where you could very well drown if you weren't careful. In any case, it was no mystery as to where he'd picked up the skill.

"It's always encouraging to find out what Oxford educations are good for these days." Erik didn't always mean to be so condescending towards Charles' obvious privilege, but sometimes it just came out, whether jokingly or not.

He rearranged Charles and stood up to fetch himself the hard liquor he'd been promised. He wasn't disappointed by the outcome, as Charles, or whoever bought the lovely bottle of scotch, obviously had good taste.

Grabbing the bottle and the tumbler next to it, he added, "You're not getting a hold of this--there's a special rung in Hell for people who waste good scotch, and I'm not about to let you damn us both."

[I will try my best. ;_;]

ITS JUST LIKE ERIK SAID, THATS WHAT OXFORDS GOOD FOR

[cerebroed.livejournal.com]

Charles smiled rather crookedly at his friend. It's alright, I know you're impressed. He was breathing a little too hard to actually say it out loud.

By the time Erik would return, however, the eccentric and exhausted Brit was curled up on the bed with his eyes closed. Not asleep, no. Just resting. Chugging champagne is hard work, after all.

"Mmm, do have mercy on me," he mumbled.

XP

[sublifter.livejournal.com]

Erik honestly had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but he supposed it didn't really matter at three in the morning. Shaking his head, he took the few strides back, wondering just how much of lightweight someone had to be to be nearly passed out just from drinking champagne.

"Too late. You brought it on yourself, Charles." Was there a point in teasing someone who was only half coherent? Probably not, but that didn't make it any less amusing.

For a few moments he stood next to the bed, wondering if it would be better if he just picked Charles up and put him in bed before drinking himself into a light sleep, or if Charles was just being over dramatic and he'd be able to totter down the hallway by himself later. It was about time for Charles to head on out if he was just going to lie around and take up bed space, but Erik didn't really feel incredibly inclined to move him and disturb what could be the only time in history that Charles wasn't spouting long sentences about the good of mankind or groovy mutations. As used to them as he'd grown, it was always nice to have a break.

[cerebroed.livejournal.com]

Charles flopped over onto his back and scooted closer to the bedframe before patting the mattress beside him in an obvious 'there's room for you here' motion.

Stifling a yawn, he reached out expectantly for the bottle. "I hope you're planning on sharing my scotch with me."

Please. He could keep going for a few more hours. Charles was a professional partier. After all, there were other benefits to a university than just the education.

[sublifter.livejournal.com]

"Not at the moment."

Slightly amused at the fact that Charles was the one who'd barged in here, taken over his bed, and was now inviting him back onto it, he sat where the man had indicated that he should be.

He sat quietly for a few moments, finally processing what they'd just been through, what Charles went through every day without complaint. He felt everything that went on around him and never complained, even though it only built up on top of what he'd been through personally. Privileged, Charles may be, but sheltered, he was not.

"How do you do it, Charles." A question that sounded more like a statement, as usual. He was too used to telling people what was going on to be able to express confusion.

[cerebroed.livejournal.com]

Charles was silent for a few moments, his outstretched hand dropping down to his side. After a moment he sat back up, facing away from his friend.

"I'm not sure, honestly," he said after a moment, chuckling humorlessly. "I've had to since childhood. It's just second nature now."

He sighed softly, rubbing his head. He could feel a headache coming on.

Charles winced suddenly, pressing a hand to his temples. He hated nightmares. Not his nightmares, it had been some time since he'd been the one dreaming, but the nightmares of everyone else around him.

"Hank," he murmured, almost inaudibly.