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October challenge, day three: sunsets
“Run faster, Charles! Come on!” Their laughter filled the football field. A dash of blond that seemed to turn blue in the corner of Erik’s eye.
“You must know,” the boy clutches at his side catching his breath. A huge stubborn grin that won’t leave his face “that you’re cheating every time you shapeshift in the middle of the race”.
Erik disagrees.
“I disagree,” the girl says, letting the red sunlight fall over her beautiful blue skin.
“Let’s get home Charles, it’s getting late”.
The boy —Charles— stretches lazily and content from his spot on the grass, unconcerned with the dirt stains on his clearly very expensive football jersey. Erik resents it a little bit. If his parents ever got him an original jersey from one of the best teams in Europe he would take better care of it. But it’s known in school that this Charles is a rich boy. Rich enough that the school took in his sister Raven in spite of Raven’s decision to remain in her natural blue form whenever she chose to.
Before last year, before the Xavier siblings, Erik cannot remember his school ever showing such straightforward mutant-rights policies.
The change the Xavier siblings stirred extended far beyond just the two of them. A couple of months after their arrival four more kids with visible mutations had arrived. Kurt, Azazel, Angel, and Henry. Erik’s class now had the highest percentage of mutant students in the history of the school.
Still, it seemed not everyone rolled with it smoothly. Hence why Erik’s still on the sports field —when he doesn’t really play sports, he’s not really big on team spirit— while his supper’s probably going cold at home. It’s nearly sunset, after all. Mama will be wondering where he is.
Erik won’t leave though. Not yet. The Xavier siblings are still laying in the grass a few yards away, close enough that Erik can hear them laughing at the boy’s — Charles— terribly lame evolution jokes. Charles is laughing, loud and stark in the sunset light, and Erik, damn him, has already taken two steps before he catches himself.
“Come sit with us,” the words are clearly meant for him, delivered with a smile that seems a little more guarded, a shade less self-assured—only slightly — Erik thinks, precious, and it’s not a word he throws around lightly.
Charles smile shines brighter then. Come near. It’s alright Erik, you don’t have to be alone. The words sound like something mama would say, but that voice… Erik wants to hear it say his name again.
“You’re Charles Xavier,” Erik kneels next to the siblings, still not understanding what possessed him to get this close. He doesn’t care much for his classmates, definitely not enough to spend time with any of them after school.
He certainly has nothing in common with dorky geniuses such as Charles, who fills a room with electricity every time he enters — Erik’s pretty sure he’s felt it— and who is impossibly nice to everyone, including Shaw and Stryker and the other jerks on Charles’ football —soccer— team.
Charles’ startling blue eyes open wide with satisfaction “I am,”
“I’m Erik Lehnsherr,” He breathes, while his eyes remain stubbornly locked in that blue warmth.
Erik wants to look away, to tear himself from that impossible compact space the three of them are somehow sharing, from the fluttering feeling in his gut and the strange and euphoric edge in his mind. He wants to run home to his mother and be alone in his tree house where he can make sure everyone he loves is safe.
But Charles is here. And just when Erik’s sure he cannot take the proximity a hand closes around his wrist. Firm, Erik swiftly notices, definitely not what you’d expect from a baby-faced eleven-year-old. Erik doesn’t flinch from the touch and that mere fact starts him more than anything else.
“I know,” Charles beams, his voice is low and reassuring and Erik feels all the steel of his shields melt and bend under the heat of that palm. He doesn’t know if Charles is pulling him closer or it it’s Erik who’s leaning in.
“I was waiting for you, Erik”
And there it is. Charles speaks his name again, and there are no jerks from the soccer team nearby, no dinner getting colder at home, or holes in Erik’s school bag and no tape binding his old science books together. And Erik doesn’t really know much about Charles, but he settles down on the grass.
Still, it’s not quite the same, and Erik can’t quite name what has changed.
It’s different in your head. My voice, I mean. I don’t know why but, in your head, I sound a lot like your… impressions, of me. My voice in your head is your creation, and that’s why I could never actually sound as pleasant, Erik.
It’s so strange, to have Charles — where? In his mind? Erik doesn’t understand what’s going on. He keeps waiting to want to recoil, but the urge never comes.
Well that’s a first.
“How..” Erik whispers.
“I’m like you, Erik”
Charles says his name out loud again and Erik decides he likes this voice, too. A lot.
There are many rumours about what Charles Xavier’s powers are. Some say he can read your mood and feelings. Other kids say their parents have told them Charles can hear thoughts. There’s a word for those mutants, telepaths, but Erik has never met one —before— wasn’t sure they were real.
There were many times Erik wasn’t even sure that Charles Xavier was a mutant. All those times when Shaw and Stryker and their idiot followers would make fun of Charles for speaking up in science class, or for being small compared to the bigger members of his team, or for —Erik’s stomach falls a bit— being friends with poor kids like Alex Summers. All those times Charles didn’t take any kind of revenge. Erik was almost sure it was because he couldn’t.
“You were in my head…” he doesn’t feel repelled in the slightest and that’s surprising, considering Erik doesn’t even allow people in his bedroom but—
“Yeah, get used to it” the girl —Raven— says, and oh so suddenly Erik is reminded that it’s not just he and Charles with the sunset in front of them and the green field extending behind them.
Raven looks down to where her brother’s hand is still, after all this time, clutching at Erik’s wrist. She makes a mildly disgusted face and Charles smiles sheepishly and removes his hand. And Erik feels as if he’s just lost something.
His face must have betrayed him, because Raven rolls her eyes and pushes herself unceremoniously from the grass.
“Charles, your friend is weird. I’m gonna go with get the others” Only when he sees her run Erik realizes that Henry and Angel have been in the other side of the field for a while, signaling for the Xavier siblings to join them.
“Are you coming?” Raven insists, impatient.
Any moment now, Erik knows, Charles is gonna walk away from him and join the other kids. Because that’s the kind of boy Charles Xavier is. The kind to be surrounded by the smartest kids like Hank and Jean Grey, and by the most powerful mutants like Ororo and Raven and Alex. Charles is not the type to sit quietly by himself like Erik does. Charles is vibrant and generous with his smiles and his words, and always sharing his biology notes with anyone who asks for his help.
Charles wouldn’t want someone like Erik, who gets angry way too easily, and who has a wacky mutation that causes stuff to break down or melt when he gets upset.
“Do you want to come with us?
And Erik is surprised because he wants to say yes, but he can’t. He can already feel the coins in Charles’ pocket heating up, what else is he gonna mess up? He tries to take a calming breath before he says ‘no, I wanna be alone, leave me alone’. But the breath is insufficient, and the words don’t come. He can only shake his head.
Charles makes a movement and Erik is sure he’s gonna politely bid him goodnight and go where his sister and the others play, evidently waiting for Charles.
But no, Charles moves on the grass closer to Erik.
“Oh wow,” Charles gasps, his eyes fluttering shut.
“What? Are you okay? Did I do something to you?”
“I’m fine, Erik, it’s just— your mind,” Charles pushes his own hair out of his face and Erik feels.. elated, even the surface of this boy’s thoughts hums beautifully, and Erik’s being pulled in with the need to touch and—
Oh.
This aren’t his thoughts.
When Erik opens his eyes he has leaned almost a foot closer to Charles, who has apparently recoiled farther from Erik in the last second. Charles cheeks are flushed and Erik can feel the heat in his own face, while he takes a couple of calming breaths and tries to figure out if the strange blush is merely second-hand from Charles thoughts or his own embarrassment for apparently having no boundaries and getting so close to Charles two minutes after having officially met.
“I’m sorry for that,” Charles says, worrying at his bottom lip and hugging himself as if to prevent any part of him from touching Erik ever again.
Erik feels, suddenly, abandoned. Out of sheer instinct, and moving on his knees, he closes again the distance between Charles and him.
“Those— those were your thoughts,”
“Yes.” Charles looks mortified, still looking as if Erik would burn to death if he touched him.
“Is that what my mind feels to you?”
The moment Charles says “yes” he unlocks his arms from around his chest, and looks at Erik, wide-eye and knowing at the same time.
“Is it— is it always like this, with everyone?” Erik could kick himself, for sounding so needy, so childish.
But Charles snorts “definitely not”, and seems so earnest that Erik’s glad he asked.
“If I could.. feel, your thoughts, does that mean you could feel mine?” Erik asks.
He’s never met a telepath before, he has heard of some anecdotes about psychics hiding their mutation even from their own kind, in order to be accepted in their communities. As far as he knows, no one in their school knows exactly what powers Charles has and, those who know don’t talk about it.
“It depends,” Charles explains, slowly, watching Erik’s face for reactions, as an alternative, Erik suspects, to reading his mind.
“Sometimes my own mind will.. bleed, into those around me, and project my own feelings and thoughts without the need to be in their minds”
Erik is speechless.
“It can be very daunting for those close to me, or so I’ve been informed” Charles jokes, but Erik can sense the tension underneath.
“It was— interesting,” Erik says, honest. But he can’t quite prevent the toothy grin from spreading across his face, “intense, but interesting”.
Erik doesn’t miss the second Charles eyes light back up to full power, “well, that’s a first,” Charles says.
“So, you can hear all my thoughts?” Erik asks again, because his amazement and curiosity about Charles’ power are overtaking.
“Yes.”
That sounded… more certain than what Erik was expecting.
“All of them?”
“If I wanted to, maybe. Yes.” Charles admits.
Erik feels a strange fear creeping at the edge of his mind, because this is the point where things are gonna break down… this is where everyone gets put out and this boy is just like him but so, so brilliant and caring and brave but there’s no way he’ll accept this kind of intrusion, and he cannot show how much it hurts
Erik opens his eyes and releases a breath. Feels one side of his face wet, but the tears aren’t his, and Charles’ face is dry.
“You,” Erik pants, one hand to his chest, rubbing away an ache that was not his but that he finds he can relate to.
“Do you want to…” and Erik doesn’t know exactly what he’s offering. He just knows that, for some reason, Charles is in pain because he thinks Erik’s about to walk away. And Erik can’t wait to convince him that he won’t.
“Come,” Erik finally says, amazed at how sure his voice is, at how he’s not cringing at the mere idea of allowing this. Before he can think about it, he reaches out and takes Charles hand. He feels a small shudder which, honestly it could have been either one of them.
“Erik, are you—“ Charles tries to argue, to explain that Erik, in fact, doesn’t understand what he’s asking Charles to do. And he might be right, but Erik doesn’t miss the way that Charles, for all his reluctance, allows Erik to keep hold of his hand and drag it until Charles soft fingertips are ghosting over Erik’s temple.
“You want to touch my mind, Charles. I… saw how much”
“Yes but that’s no reason for…”
“I want to hear your voice in my mind again,” Erik blurts out. And he knows Charles didn’t see that coming, because he goes silent.
“But.. I can’t talk to you telepathically without having to look at your thoughts. I do it with raven all the time” Charles pleads. Erik’s confused because he knows— at least he thinks he knows—- Charles wants this. Even now, as Charles argues, Erik feels a tremble of excitement that’s not all his own. Erik thinks he’s learning how to identify what Charles projects fairly quickly, all things considering.
“You are.” Charles answers to His unspoken thought. “You seem to be incredibly… receptive to my telepathy, Erik. And if I go deep and unguarded into your mind there’s no way of knowing how much I’ll see, even without trying. Your happiest memories, your darkest secrets, they will call to me”
“I don’t care,” Erik says, with more yearning in his voice than he expected to hear. He does not care what Charles will find. The need for their connection somehow overpowers Erik’s need to guard himself.
“I don’t care about hiding I— I liked it, Charles. You’re… very powerful” Erik says, still holding Charles hand in his own. Why does Charles allow the touch so easily? Erik would have batted away the person's hand long before now.
Charles cheeks turn impossibly red, but he still looks right into Erik’s eyes.
So are you, Erik.
Erik gasps. He feels happy, anticipating. But this time is not Charles.
“Do it,” Erik says, smiling as he once again brings both their hands to rest on Erik’s temple. Before Erik closes his eyes, he sees Charles’ face full with awe.
When Erik opens his eyes they’d both panting and laughing ecstatically, lying on the grass and rolling onto their sides.
Erik’s reaching out with his hand, until it finds the edge of Charles’s sleeve and gives it a gently, merely-there pull. Honestly, he surprises himself, he’s not normally this open to physical contact with anyone, not even his family. But maybe he wants to touch Charles just as much as Charles wants to touch Erik’s mind. Weird.
Are you alright?
Erik takes another deep breath, I’m wonderful. Your power is wonderful.
Charles beams, Nobody knows, only Raven and Hank and—-
“I know,” Erik says. I won’t tell anyone, I promise you, Charles”
“I believe you, Erik” Charles smiles, I know, he adds. And Erik is glad. The words they share inside of each other’s minds already seem more real.
The sun is almost completely gone, and Raven comes running to them, demanding that her brother joins her and their friends. Charles looks at Erik, and Erik honest to god doesn’t know which is more inviting, the smile on Charles’s face or the pull of Charles’ mind, warm and golden, which Erik can almost taste this close to him.
Come with us?
I… I can’t. Erik thinks about his parents, and how late it is. How he’s supposed to help with chores.
“Oh, I see,” Charles says, the connection between their minds clear and strong still, and Erik almost doesn’t want to move, unsure of how best not to break it.
I could—- come with you, if you want. The embarrassment of asking for too much strong around Erik’s mind.
I do, Erik thinks frantically, I do, I do.
Erik stands up, and before he can think about it he’s reaching out to grab Charles’ hand and pulling him up next to him.
Charles is still in his mind, but his presence is not the overwhelming, all consuming wave that had them both rolling on the floor laughing from sheer elation. Now Charles is a calming and warm tide, at the edges of Erik’s consciousness, which leaks into his mind whenever Erik directs his thoughts at him, as if pulled by them.
Erik could get used to this. He keeps waiting for the urge to flinch, to establish distance. But it never comes, and after the softening of their mental connection Erik finds that a certain amount of actual touch feels— right, needed, to ease Erik out of the most intense stages of their telepathic bond.
Charles no doubt explains to Raven where they’re going, using his powers. Erik notices Raven looks like she’d want to argue but she doesn’t. Instead she turns to Erik and says “if you give my brother a hard time I’ll kick your ass, and then I’ll have them do it for good measure,” and she points at Alex, Angel, and Hank, who suddenly seem very interested in —-and suspicious of— Erik.
“I think your brother can defend himself, but yeah sure, feel free.” Erik says, a little bit annoyed but strangely touched by the way they all seem to have Charles’ back.
Charles and Erik start making their way to Erik’s house. He knows it’s not normal for him to bring friends over at this hour —at any hour— and that’s why he’s positive his parents won’t be upset.
“Erik, can I ask you something?”
“Anything” Erik says.
“it’s about something I saw, in your head,”
Erik tenses as a reflex, in the joy of the communion between their minds Erik almost forgot all the bad things Charles probably saw.
“Anything, Charles” he insists, and he swallows the knot in his throat.
“Can I show you? It might be easier” Charles asks tentatively. His eyes eager and his sweaty hair still plastered against his face.
“Alright,” and Erik leans into Charles’ soft hand on his temple and cheek.
Charles shows Erik the thoughts that caught his attention early when he submersed himself into Erik’s mind. Erik noticing every time that Charles would stick up for his sister to anyone who dared make fun of her, even though raven could clearly take care of herself.
Erik saw himself getting tense and poised whenever he noticed Stryker and the other mean boys on the soccer team to go near Charles. Sees himself alone at the field at sunset, cold and hungry, but Charles and Raven are laughing and running and rolling themselves on the grass and… Erik can’t leave yet because he wants to make sure they finish their day unbothered.
You were watching over us, Charles says, over me. And when Erik confirms it with a nod he feels Charles joy surging forward, reverberating in the quiet night.
Erik could jump up and down, because Charles saw deep inside him and liked it. He’s eleven years old, but Erik thinks that, maybe, this is what it means to have a friend.
“I am, Erik. Forever.” Charles promises. It is a promise, Erik realizes. Delivered in that same steadfast and earnest manner that apparently comes natural to Charles.
Erik wants to thank him, wants to say something sweet, so that Charles understands how important this is to him. He says “I’ll never let those jerks, or anyone else, bother you again”.
Charles takes a step closer. Smiles up to Erik and puts one hand on Erik’s shoulder. Erik feels again a warm fluttering in his stomach, and it takes him a moment to realize the sensations are not Charles’ but his own.
“You don’t have to fight anyone,” Charles tells him, laughing and shaking his shoulder playfully, “I can take care of myself, you know”
“I know,” Erik says, because he does. And yet, he also knows he will put himself between Charles and anyone who tries to harm him. “Still,” he continues, “if they try anything I’ll make them regret it”.
Charles beams to him and pulls him by the arm, as if he knows the way to his house. He probably does, Erik thinks.
Walking side by side, their shoulders and hands bumping against each other’s Charles turns to him and whispers “thank you, Erik.”
“Always, Charles.” He says. Because nothing else seemed right.
Erik is eleven and maybe, just maybe, he’s fallen a little bit in love.
Still, he just wants to stare at Charles for a couple more seconds. Just stare, and maybe push that damn, beautiful, stubborn hair out of Charles’ eyes. He does, and before he can feel shy about it Charles’ wave of joy and warmth surges forward and surrounds him. Letting him know that it’s okay, that Erik can get as close as he wants, and that Charles feels happy about it.
Charles puts one arm around Erik’s shoulder and smiles playfully, as if remembering something which gives him great pleasure. He gives Erik an abnormally shy look.
“You’re the one that’s precious” Charles says. And it takes Erik a moment to catch up.