Title: Red, White and Blue
Verse: X-Men First Class
Warnings: Child abuse, sexual child abuse, implied m/m sex, sexual popsicle references.
Summary: On the 4th of July, Erik is let into one of Charles' memories, and must make a choice. Tribute to luninosity at LiveJournal.
As Erik watched the Fourth of July celebrations happening on the grounds of Charles’ mansion (and it was a mansion), he realized he felt content, even happy. When, he reflected, had he relaxed into this life? When had his days started to feel incomplete without trusting blue eyes and fluffy oversized sweaters next to him?
Charles was really the best thing to happen to Erik. And if Erik firmly refused to allow three little words (or even one) to spring to mind or from his lips, it was for the best. The sex they had was fantastic and their friendship wonderful, but well – more was too intimate for right now.
As if hearing his thoughts, Charles came to stand next to him in a shaft of setting sunlight, all tousled brown hair and big blue eyes and glowing, sunkissed freckles, holding a popsicle in one hand. God, he was beautiful and Erik fought the urge to gather him up in his arms and just feel that warm tiny, trusting body in his embrace. Charles smiled as we watched the others interact about 20 feet away.
“The kids look like they’re having fun.” Thinking about me?
“Too much fun. Celebrating America’s Independence Day.” Of course I am. Is that pineapple?
“Of course it is,” Charles replied with a grin and stuck the popsicle in his mouth and sucked, noisily. Erik’s mouth went suddenly bone-dry and he swallowed hard. Charles removed the popsicle with a small pop.
“No reason to sound so disapproving, Erik.” Besides, with the 4th of July as a theme, we can do THIS.
Oh, Lord. “Charles – inside, now!” Erik demanded, voice hoarse. Yes –THAT. Please!
Later, Erik was comfortably sprawled in bed, a naked Charles nuzzled against him, drowsy blue eyes content.
“Do you think the kids noticed our absence?”
“Doubt it,” Erik replied dryly. “Does feel like a family, though I suppose your family had wonderful 4th of July parties.”
Charles flinched slightly and turned to look at the wall who stared back, cheerfully enjoying the attention. Erik instantly frowned.
No response. Erik tried hard not to panic.
Again, no response.
Charles, he thought wildly. Charles turned back around, slowly.
“I’m fine. Sorry.” Don’t ruin the lamp, Erik. It didn’t do anything wrong.
Erik set the down the lamp that had been hanging in midair. Of course Charles would worry about an inanimate object and its feelings. But Charles was not fine, he could tell. The freckles were shadowed and those oceanic eyes held – pain?
Frantic, Erik held Charles close. “Tell me what I did, Charles.” Please. On a sudden hunch, he thought Was it that comment about your family?
“I can’t,” Charles whispered, brokenly and Erik’s heart ached. You won’t look at me the same.
“Yes, I will.” He’d do anything for Charles. Anything to make him smile again. Trust me, Charles.
There was a pause and then Erik was transported into a dark office where Charles, a young boy with soft vulnerable limbs and a brown mop of hair was facing a wall, hand and feet tied behind him with white cloth. Forced to watch as an older man ranted at the boy, periodically flicking a razorblade he held in one hand over the young, thin back, causing lines of red to appear and begin to drip. Erik could only watch as the pants were pulled down and that young, innocent, lovely body raped brutally, among repeated phrases by the elder of “You wanted a 4th of July theme, did you? Wanted to celebrate the day, did you? Well, here’s red, white and blue – you little cock slut. Take it!”
With a start, Erik was back in the present, tears in his eyes. Charles was trembling. Unable to speak past the lump in his throat, he helplessly thought Charles.
Charles gave a small laugh that was almost a sob.
“I knew you’d feel differently.” It’s alright. I know I’m– his thought wavered –damaged goods.
Erik instinctively tightened his arms around Charles. “You are not damaged goods.” I love you.
Charles looked up, hope hesitantly lurking at the edges of his eyes. “I-” Say that again?
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” Erik allowed his feelings to flow into Charles’ mind.
I love youloveyouloveyouloveyouloveyouloveyou. I always will. Please be better. You’re perfect. I’ll do anything. I’ll be nicer to the kids, I’ll buy pineapple popsicles and oversized sweaters, I’ll – Erik hesitated, but only for a second. – I’ll give up my quest to kill Shaw. I’ll stay with you forever, just (a bit helplessly, pleading) feel better, please?
Oh. Charles’ thought held amazement and Erik felt him blush in his mind. Oh, Erik. I love you, too.
“You do?” Erik couldn’t breath. Charles…
Yes, thought Charles as he smiled up at Erik, blue eyes only filled with happiness now, the shadows underneath those uncomplaining red-gold freckles disappearing. And I do. Feel better. Kiss me?
Yes, Erik replied wildly, kissing that beautiful mouth. Anything. Everything. All for you. All of it. Me. I love you.
Erik? The smallest amount of fear in that Oxford-accented voice. Stay with me. Forever. Please?
Forever, Erik promised as Charles buried his face in the space in between his shoulder and neck. Yes. Eternity. Always. Charles.
I love you came the contented response.
And that was enough.