guideshapelead | XMFC/Accidents Happen

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XMFC/Accidents Happen

Charles is far from impressed with the drugs Hank's given him. So far, he's taking them obediently, but he has to admit that it's already a struggle to keep up the regime. He hasn't had another seizure, and for that he is grateful, but the cost is almost too much. His concentration is shot; he can barely manage a chapter of a book in one sitting, now, whereas before he'd skim whole volumes. And worse, his telepathy has been weakened to a level which is almost non-existent. He has to try, with all his concentration and mental strength, just to catch glimpses of thoughts aimed directly at him.

His head has never felt so quiet.

As a consequence, he's in far from a good mood as he sits in the drawing room with Erik that afternoon, struggling to do more than watch the flames in the fireplace. He finds the whole thing far more crippling than the bullet in his spine.

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Erik, eager now, hauls down Charles' clothes, the material scraping his skin. He knows that Charles will tell him if he doesn't like what he's doing, even if it's just a nudge of displeasure.

He bends his head and takes Charles into his mouth.

Charles isn't a huge fan of having his legs handled so carelessly, but while he frowns he can't give Erik a wordless warning. He's not bothered enough, yet, to say anything out loud, and all annoyance goes out the window when he suddenly has Erik's mouth around his cock.

Erik sucks Charles' whole length into his mouth, before pulling back to lathe his cock with his tongue.

He pushes apart Charles' legs for better access, hands grounding on Charles' thighs.

"Erik..." The name comes out as a moan, though Charles meant for it to be more of a warning. Whilst he appreciates that Erik needs to move his legs, he doesn't like it happening without permission. It makes him feel incapable of moving himself.

Taking that as a sign of encouragement, Erik continues his attentions while trying to divest Charles of his trousers and push his legs into a better position.

However, he's not prepared for the complete lack of tension and Charles' leg falls from his grip, bouncing on the mattress.

"Erik," there's a harsher edge to Charles' voice this time, unmistakable. He doesn't say any more yet, hoping his lover will understand from that what he doesn't like.

Erik stops and pulls back. Charles clearly doesn't like this - he must be out of practice. For now, he knows that he wants Charles to realise how much Erik loves him and wants to stay with him.

"Turn over," he says.

Charles' frown changes from one of annoyance to one of suspicion.

"Why?" He asks, though he's already reaching for the edge of the mattress to help pull himself over. "What are you up to?"

Erik frowns, now unsure of what they're doing.

"Isn't this what you want?"

"Of course," Charles nods.

"I just like to know what you're planning."

"I wanted to..."

Erik trails off as he considers the logistics. And comes up with no real way to make this work. But he can't admit that to Charles. He can't let him down when he's promised him that they can have physical as well as mental intimacy.

Which, right now, is also absent.

Erik has been a fool.

"You don't know what I'm planning."

"I trust you," Charles shrugs it off, determined for this to still work. Hooking his fingers around the edge of the mattress, he pulls himself over onto his front, twisting his neck to look back at Erik.

"I trust you," he repeats.

Erik can't help but feel this trust is misplaced. Still, he won't disappoint Charles now.

With one hand resting on the safe territory of Charles' back, Erik reaches between Charles' legs and cups his balls. He trails his fingers slowly back, until they're resting at Charles' opening.

"Can you feel that?" he murmurs.

"Yes," Charles gasps into the pillow, irritation momentarily forgotten in light of just what Erik's doing to him.

Pleased by Charles' obvious pleasure, Erik uses both hands to spread Charles' cheeks. He licks the puckered hole tentatively, trying to gauge a reaction.

Letting out a strangled gasp, Charles tries to press himself against Erik's tongue, wanting more. His frustration is only at himself when he finds himself unable to move his hips in the way he wants to.

Erik licks him again, a slow teasing swipe, and then presses the tip of his tongue against the opening.

His mind is already wandering to where he put the vaseline and whether it's in this room or his nominal bedroom, his hands moving of their own accord to pull at Charles' hips.

Charles can only feel the ghost of Erik's hands against him, but he knows what they're doing when he feels his whole position shift slightly. It's an unnerving experience, and in all honesty, not one he particularly likes.

"Erik, stop," he snaps before he can help himself, all the little frustrations finally building up to a point where he can't let them go.

"Just... stop."

Erik jumps back as if slapped, a foot or so between him and Charles.

He's failed. He cannot prove to Charles they can be close.

He's ruined everything between them.

Rolling himself back onto his back, Charles looks up at Erik with sad eyes. The way his lover's looking at him, he feels like he's just asked to break up.

"This isn't going to work. Not tonight." He's careful to point out that he doesn't mean forever.

Erik looks away. He can't bear the disappointment on Charles' face.

"I've let you down."

"No, you haven't," Charles shakes his head.

"It's my telepathy. Or lack of it. It feels like there's a wall between us."

Erik lets out a shaky breath and nods, willing to accept this explanation for the moment.

"You should get ready for bed," he says, climbing off to search for his own pyjama bottoms.

"Erik..." Charles feels guilty for calling stop now, reaching out for the other man's wrist.

"I'm sorry?"

Erik looks at him intensely, eyes full of pain. "You never have to say sorry to me. It's my fault - I made you uncomfortable."

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