Charles imagines he could have fallen for Moira.
She’s beautiful, smart, feisty, independent and she hasn’t fallen for his pick up lines, which makes her even more intriguing.
(Charles will admit the ladies who don’t fall for them intrigue him further, he enjoys a challenge).
She’s everything he could want, everything he should want.
Charles isn’t sure when it happened, he believes somewhere between pulling him from the sea off the coast of Miami and capturing Emma Frost in Russia, but Erik has gotten under his skin. He’s stubbornly settled in and isn’t about to give up his hold on Charles’ affections any time soon.
Charles is less bothered by this than he feels he should be. He’s not queer, not that he takes offence at those who are.
(As a telepath, he’s felt the pain of the young man who can’t be with the person he loves for fear of jail. He’s felt the fear of the woman who’s discovered her attraction lies with her own gender. He knows it’s as natural to them as breathing, their desires aren’t wrong. He hopes one day that the world will accept them, as he hopes they will accept his kind one day).
He’s never felt any desire, felt anything past camaraderie, toward another man before Erik. Even now he’s not entirely sure there’s a sexual element to his attraction or whether it’s simply the most intense friendship he’s ever been a part of.
Not that Erik isn’t attractive. Charles could appreciate that from a completely objective standpoint even before these feelings had developed.
He’s tall, slender, with a body defined by a life on the run, chasing down those who’ve wronged him. There’s none of the softness Charles himself has from his more pedestrian upbringing.
His eyes are a colour impossible to pin down, flashing from grey to blue to green depending on his mood. Charles had tried to figure out the colour one time while they’d been drinking together. He’d been doing it in his head, so when he’d announced that Erik’s eyes were bloody impossible, the other man had stared at him before breaking into a real honest laugh.
And Erik’s mouth -
(And okay, maybe there is a sexual element to these things, how those wicked lips would kiss him, would suck him, dear God, how he longs for it).
- the fact his smiles are always vaguely sinister, even those which are meant to be charming or reassuring is just another thing Charles finds himself drawn to. It’s as if the other man doesn’t know how to be at ease, he’s always on edge, always ready for the next battle, happiness doesn’t come naturally to him and that’s something Charles wants to change. He wants to see the smile soften, become something real, something he doesn’t have to fight every step of the way. He wants Erik to know that he’s allowed to feel happy. He wants to make Erik feel that way, do whatever it takes to bring a real smile to his face.
But it’s not just the physical, it never was.
Erik is a puzzle that Charles is itching to solve. He wants to put together the shattered pieces of the man, an nigh on impossible task but one Charles would happily spend the rest of his life working at. He wants to be able to see more of the Erik he sees when they’re training the children, the one who’ll laugh at Sean’s failed flying attempts or casually toss a glass of water at the smouldering sleeve of Charles’ cardigans after Alex’s plasma blasts just missed their target.
He’s the first person Charles has met who’s ever truly challenged him. His thoughts, his beliefs, so similar yet so different from Charles’ own. Their long debates over the human’s place in the future - while troubling - are some of Charles’ most treasured moments. The passion with which Erik speaks, with which Erik puts across his opinions sets Charles’ heart racing. He can see Erik’s utopia in his own mind and God, he wants to believe it, wants to believe they could live together in such a place but it’s simply a side effect of the feelings Charles’ has. He knows it’s not plausible, but opening his heart to Erik opens his mind and for brief moments, he wishes dearly that it were.
He’s vaguely aware that his thoughts are reminiscent of a young girl with her first crush, much like when Raven had fallen in love with the boy in her Maths class and decided they were going to be together forever.
(It had lasted for three hours, when he’d ruined the relationship by stealing her favourite colouring book and announcing her blue skinned, red headed Snow White was stupid. She’d punched him in the face and told him he wasn’t a handsome prince after all, instead just a smelly toad. Charles doubted she’d truly met her soul mate at age 8, but comforted her all the same that night when she insisted she’d never love again).
Charles knows he sounds like a lovesick fool but then when faced with Erik Lehnsherr, he defies anyone not to.
Charles imagines that he could have fallen for Moira.