"Charles," Erik pants, "Charles, please. God, please, I can't-- I can't--"
He bites his lower lip; Charles just smiles at him. Erik manages to smile back, just for a minute, just enough to tell Charles yes, it's all right, still good, still wonderful, but then Charles grips Erik's cock just that tiniest bit harder, and Erik's throwing his head back again, panting, gasping for breath and thinking I'm going to go mad, I'm going to go insane, this won't, I can't, I can't bear it, Charles, Charles, please...
"Tell me," Charles breathes. "Out loud, where I can hear you."
«You can already hear me,» Erik points out, teeth clenched tightly together. He's sweating so hard it's running down his face, his back damp with it, he's sticking to the sheet-- but Charles remains implacable, unwilling to let up on the pleasure even for a moment.
Erik has begged for many things to stop over the course of his life; he's never, ever considered he might beg a lover to stop pleasing him. He's nearly there, though, almost there with Charles, with this.
It started with a dare; Charles lifting an eyebrow and saying, "I could stop you going over, you know." And of course Erik hadn't quite believed that; at the root of it, orgasm was a physical impulse. Coming was the province of the body and not the mind. Charles could dig into Erik's thoughts, show people images that weren't real, but Erik had spent years honing and mastering his body. It was his.
Now it's not. Now he knows how untrue that was, how foolish he must have been to think any part of him didn't already belong to Charles. He can't even dig his fingers into the bedcovers to steady himself; his hands are palms-up, open and curved in a false, controlled simulation of relaxation.
He pushes his thoughts forward a little harder: «Please, Charles, I can't stand it-- please, let me, please--»
"Out loud," Charles repeats. He draws his hand away-- a moment's respite, thank God thank God-- but it's only to slick his palm more thoroughly with lube. And then he's back, sliding his hand up and down Erik's cock, free hand coming up to his temple and nudging Erik into motion. Erik's head tips forward so he can see better, and his hips start working, fucking into the tight circle of Charles's fingers.
Erik tries to close his eyes, but it's no use; Charles just plays the image directly into his mind, from the opposite end. Erik gets more than just the visual; he gets Charles's attraction to him, the sense of brutal satisfaction he's getting from controlling Erik so thoroughly.
«And you didn't think I could hold you off like this,» Charles thinks, the whispering tease of his laughter drifting through his thought. Aloud, he asks, "What do you think now?"
"I want it in your voice, not just your mind." Charles speeds up his strokes, Erik's hips still pumping against Charles's hand. "I want it out loud where you can't hide from it. Put it in the air, Erik. Tell me."
For a few seconds, Erik keeps struggling. He can bear this, he can, it's pleasure and he wants it-- but oh, God, if he doesn't come soon he thinks he might pass out, or possibly die. It seems entirely feasible.
He licks his lips, tries again. It isn't easy drawing breath for this, for anything but his labored, desperate gasps.
As he opens his eyes, Charles bends his head down. Erik cries out, whole body struggling to move away, but Charles has him far too well in hand and mind and body for that, and Erik goes nowhere. The pink tip of Charles's tongue eases forward, just out of range of the head of Erik's cock. If it weren't for the grip Charles has on Erik's capacity for orgasm, Charles's cheeks would be painted with Erik's come now.
"Please," Erik whispers. "Please, Charles. Please."
"More," Charles whispers back. "More, and I'll give you what you want."
«What I want, you'll let me come, please tell me you will, I need it, Charles, please, I can't bear this, please--»
Charles smiles. "Closer. But you know I want your tongue moving, I want your mouth. If you won't give me yours, I'll give you mine..."
«No, oh, God, please...»
Charles licks him, just the head of his cock, just a slow smooth slide of his tongue, but Erik breaks. He's shivering under Charles's mental hold, certain now that if anything could prove out Erik's theory that orgasm is about the body and not the mind, this would. As Charles bends his head down even further, Erik feels tears leaking down his cheeks-- and then Charles draws the head of Erik's cock into his mouth, and Erik gasps, nearly hyperventilating before Charles calms that impulse, too.
«Just say it all out loud,» Charles thinks at him, his thoughts nearly soothing enough to reach past all of Erik's frustrated ecstasy. «It's all I want, you're where I need you, just give me the words and I'll let you come, I want you to come, I want to see it, feel it, taste it, give it to me, Erik, give me this.»
And Erik does.
It's not pretty, it's barely coherent, the words just break themselves out of his throat and lay trembling in the air for Charles to collect. He starts with "Please," and after a choked moan, gives him, "Charles, yes, please, oh God," and with the added motivating pleasure of Charles sucking hard at the head of Erik's cock, Erik goes on: "please, Charles, good, so good, I can't stand it, can't bear it, just need to come for you, for you, God, if you want it, if you want me to-- I'm yours, Charles, everything, all of me, please, please, I want you, please let me, please, Charles, please let me come for you, please, I'm begging, isn't this what you wanted, tell me what to do for you and I will, what to say, tell me, just please, please, please... God, Charles, please!"
«Mine,» Charles thinks, bright and sharp in the center of Erik's thoughts. «Say it again, did you mean it, I can keep you this way forever but I want more than that-- tell me, say it--»
Erik barely has the breath to say anything aloud at this point, but he draws in all the breath he can and says, "Yours," his thoughts singing out the same: «yours, Charles, yes, yours, not just for this, for everything, yours--»
There's a sudden rush, a dam lifting, a torrent of lust and need spilling over, and Erik can move again. He reaches down for Charles's hair, not tugging, just feeling the soft strands of it beneath his hands, and then he slams up, into Charles's mouth, Charles's hand still tight on his shaft. It's there, finally, he can feel it-- his orgasm pushes through him and leaves him wrecked, makes him fill Charles's mouth with it. His vision goes completely, he's sure he's going to black out, but the desperate keening sounds he's giving Charles last until his chest aches and there's no more air to press the sounds forward.
When he's finished, he's tingling all over, electrified. His eyes are still closed, his throat sore from whatever cries he was letting out, and his chest is heaving, but he's never felt so alive in his entire life.
He feels the bed sinking down all around him, but only after Charles settles on top of him does he realize what that meant. Charles climbing up the bed to sprawl on him, Charles's mouth near his own. Erik licks his lips and leaves them parted, hoping for a kiss.
And Charles is kind enough to grant it. He tastes warm, flavored with all of Erik's arousal and a small hint of chemical lubricant, but there isn't much of that; mostly Charles's mouth is overwhelmed with Erik, Erik's need so evident Erik moans and tries to lick it off Charles's tongue.
«Thank you,» Erik thinks, fuzzily, and he's surprised when Charles squeezes him, hugging him fiercely. The surprise doesn't quite form itself into a question, but Charles gives him another tight hug and then settles down with his head on Erik's shoulder. It occurs to Erik that he can move his arms again, so he does it, wrapping them around Charles's back.
«I didn't know if you'd forgive me for all of that... let alone thank me,» Charles tells him, sharing a sense of his nervousness, feelings he'd kept well-hidden from Erik while he was driving Erik mad. The fear that Erik would think it was too much; the concern that afterward, Erik might be afraid of him.
Erik hugs Charles as hard as he can-- not much, while he's body-worn and exhausted beyond words, but enough to make Charles sigh with pleasure. "I'm not afraid of you," Erik whispers. "I have never been afraid of you. Not since that first night in the water."
Charles presses his face to the side of Erik's neck. «Erik...»
"I know who you are. I know what you can do." Erik nudges Charles gently with his head and presses his temple to the top of Charles's head. «And you have love from me, and gratitude, but never fear.»
Clutching at Erik, nodding, Charles presses a hot kiss to the side of Erik's neck. «I love you, too,» he thinks. «I always will.»