XMFC/Accidents Happen

[guideshapelead]

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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[guideshapelead]

"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.

[diecastking]

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.

[guideshapelead]

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

[diecastking]

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

[guideshapelead]

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.

[diecastking]

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.

[guideshapelead]

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."

[diecastking]

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.

[guideshapelead]

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.

[diecastking]

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

"I've let you down."

[guideshapelead]

"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."

[diecastking]

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.

[guideshapelead]

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

"I'm sorry?"

[diecastking]

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."

[guideshapelead]

Aware that serious conversations are hard to have naked, Charles pulls his pyjama bottoms from beneath the bedcovers and pulls them on over his legs. With his modesty returned to him, he pats the bed at his side, wanting Erik to sit down with him.

[diecastking]

Erik obediently sits, still unable to meet Charles' eye. "I'm sorry."

[guideshapelead]

"Don't be," Charles shakes his head. "I... I know I'm difficult to be with."

[diecastking]

Erik closes his eyes. That's the last thing he wants Charles to think. "I was meant to prove to you we could do this."

[guideshapelead]

"It's not your fault," Charles reassures Erik, yet again.

"I just can't stand... not hearing you, in here," he taps his temple. "And I really don't like having... having my legs touched."

[diecastking]

Erik knows he should look Charles in the eye, tell him it's okay, that they can do anything together - but he can't.

"I miss you too. And I don't want to do anything that upsets you - but sometimes, I will touch your legs. I don't know how that can be avoided."

[guideshapelead]

"Then can you warn me, at least?" Charles knows that this would all be different if his telepathy was working properly, but for now they'll have to make do with talking out loud.

[diecastking]

Erik finally looks up at Charles with a small smile. "I'm not very good at talking things through."

[guideshapelead]

"We don't normally have to," Charles returns the smile.

"But for now..." He reaches for Erik's hand, guides it slowly to his knee, watching carefully all the while. This is something he knows he'll have to get used to.

[diecastking]

Erik doesn't like touching Charles' legs either, the skin colder than the rest of him and the unresisting muscle feeling like rubber. But he also fixes his gaze on his hand, allowing Charles complete control.

[guideshapelead]

"I have to get used to this," Charles is talking to himself as much as Erik as he takes his hand away from the other man's. He now has no sense at all that he's being touched, even though he can see it with his own eyes.