XMFC/Erik the slave driver

[guideshapelead]

Going to sleep with food and drink in his stomach for the first time in a while, Charles sleeps far more deeply than he ever has since coming home from hospital. It's gone midday when he comes to again, the sun high in the sky and bleeding through his thick bedroom curtains.

Despite the long sleep, the telepath still somehow manages to feel utterly drained. He supposes it would be too much to hope, to suddenly feel better the second he decides to pull himself together and sort his life out. Burying his face into his pillow, it's with great effort that he makes himself press his fingers to his temple and seek out Erik, to let him know that he's awake. He knows the easier option would be to keep quiet, but he's determined not to fall back into that.

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[diecastking]

Erik removed the pyjama bottoms without fuss or ceremony, placing them on the chair with the top.

He then shifts the nightstand closer, with all items within Charles' limited reach.

"You'll call, if you need me?" he says softly.

[guideshapelead]

"I will," Charles promises, looking up briefly before returning his gaze to his modestly covered lap. He's not going to do a thing until he's got some sort of privacy, even if Erik just goes and stands out in the hallway.

[diecastking]

"Then I will arrange breakfast."

Erik leaves without another word, stumbling down the stairs by muscle memory alone. His rumbling stomach tells him it's closer to lunch.

Also, the smell of burning meat.

Erik rescues the frying pan and finds some bread for sandwiches, losing himself in the monotony of the task.

[guideshapelead]

Left alone, Charles uses what Erik's left him to give himself an awkward wash, craving an actual bath. He pays the most attention to his arms, face and torso, unnerved beyond words by the way he doesn't feel a thing when he passes the washcloth over his legs. It's like he's washing somebody else, and he can barely stand it.

When the water goes cold in the bowl, Charles stops, putting the cloth back in the bowl and returning the blanket to his lap. Only then does he press two fingers to his temple, mind seeking out Erik's to let him know he's clean.

[diecastking]

Erik feels the brush of Charles' mind against his just as he finishes scolding Sean for burning the bacon. Sean receives one last frown before Erik collects the plate of spam sandwiches (who does the shopping in this house?) and returns upstairs.

He feels Charles' mind waver and frowns. Erik doesn't want to let on that he has no idea what he doing but he knows one of them has to be confident, for themselves and for the children.

"Explain to me," he says as he opens the door, "why we have twenty tins of spam."

[guideshapelead]

"I haven't been in charge of the shopping in a while," Charles points out, rearranging the blanket across his lap as Erik reappears.

"I'd assume Alex has taken control of that."

[diecastking]

Erik shakes his head.

"We need fresh bread. And vegetables, perhaps?"

[guideshapelead]

"I'll speak to Alex," Charles promises with a nod.

"But first, I could do with some clothes. Unless you intent to make me take a tour of the house naked?"

[diecastking]

Erik doesn't have an appropriate response to that, so he moves to Charles' wardrobe and starts rifling through the frankly alarming collection of jumpers.

He eventually finds a blue one he wouldn't send to the Goodwill and holds it up.

"This one? With the grey slacks you wore in Phoenix?"

[guideshapelead]

"Whatever," Charles shakes his head, honestly not caring what Erik passes him so long as they fill the purpose of being clothes.

Leaving the blanket over his lap for the time being, he dresses himself from the waist up, buttoning up a shirt and then pulling the sweater on over the top. Even then, he still feels cold, but he bears it without complaint.

[diecastking]

Erik watches Charles dress out of the corner of his eye, checking if he needs assistance.

Then, with underwear and slacks casually draped over one arm, he sits on the edge of the bed. "Ready, Charles?"

[guideshapelead]

It's with the greatest of willpower that Charles doesn't put himself behind Erik's eyes, to save himself the embarrassment of having his friend dress him in his underwear. But he knows Erik will resent him when he inevitably realises he has no memory of dressing him.

"Ready," he just says, instead, turning his head away to hide the blush creeping across his cheeks.

[diecastking]

Masterfully ignoring Charles' blushes, Erik sets aside the slacks and holds out the boxer shorts.

"You are doing most of this yourself," Erik says firmly.

[guideshapelead]

"I can't move my legs," Charles points out, every word close to snapped out as he continues to pointedly look away.

[diecastking]

"Yes," Erik says evenly. "That does not make you helpless."

Erik carefully picks up Charles' right hand in his own and places it under his right knee and then brings his left hand together with the right.

"You have more patience than I ever could," he murmurs. "Are you ready?"

[guideshapelead]

Huffing his annoyance as Erik physically makes him move his own legs, guiding his hands like the nurses had in the hospital, he doesn't grace his friend with an answer as he pulls his knee up, bringing his foot closer to him.

[diecastking]

Erik glances up at Charles' face and mirrors his frown.

"Soon you won't need me at all," he says, voice still soft.

Erik slips the first leg of Charles' boxers over his foot. "And the other?"

[guideshapelead]

Placing his hands under his other knee, Charles pulls his other foot closer to him, before going a step further and stretching forward to tug the other leg over his other foot. That done, it's not hard to pull the shorts up his legs, over his knees, until they're half-way up his thighs.

[diecastking]

Erik can't help the smile that comes to his lips - the Charles he knows could never give up.

"Roll to me," Erik says, offering himself as a brace but careful not to touch. He'd let Charles reach out - if he needed him.

[guideshapelead]

Reaching for the edge of the mattress, Charles digs his fingers in and uses the strength in his arms to do as Erik tells him to. It's hard work, his arms hardly strong after so long without any physical activity, but he just about manages to roll himself onto his side.

Still, the effort isn't without consequence, and he frowns as he's overcome by a coughing fit.

[diecastking]

Erik leans forward, supporting Charles as he's wracked with coughing.

"Charles?" Erik rubs his back, unhappy with the sounds ripped from Charles' chest.

"I pushed you too fast."

[guideshapelead]

"I'm doing this, Erik," Charles says when he can, grimacing against the taste in his mouth. He doesn't want to give in now, not when he's wearing nothing below the waist aside from a pair of boxers half-way down his thighs. He couldn't be more exposed, if he tried, and he's not about to stop for pity now.

Reaching for the waist of his underwear, he pulls it up to his hip on his exposed side, before rolling back down onto his back.

[diecastking]

Erik doesn't know whether to be proud or terrified of the monster he's unleashed.

Silently, he waits for Charles to catch his breath - but his hand remains warm on Charles' shoulder, fingers brushing the soft skin of his neck.

[guideshapelead]

Reaching out for the other side of the bed when his breathing calms, Charles grunts as he realises there's no way he's going to reach. His bed is large, and he's laid very much to one side of it.

"I can't do it," he mutters, barely audible.

[diecastking]

Without hesitation, Erik bends Charles' ornate headboard round to lie across the centre of the bed.

And waits.