"Well, that was completely exhausting and fruitless," Charles announces, banging into their shared hotel room. Erik looks up at him from the bed where he's been watching the local news between waves of static and nods in greeting. He'd felt Charles coming down the hall, a familiar pressure growing at the back of his skull as his consciousness scouted out ahead of him. He's being a little more forceful than normal, as if he's too tired to keep his mind reined in and his shields up. Much to his own surprise, it doesn't really bother Erik. He's grown used to the feel of Charles in his head over the past few weeks. Road trips entail a high level of intimacy even if your partner isn't a telepath. Or also your partner in a different kind of intimacy.
"No luck?" Erik asks, flipping off the television
"No," Charles answers, taking off his cardigan and tossing it next to where he's sitting on the bed. "I got her to have one drink with me after you left, but she was still incredibly skittish. I gave her our room number here, but I could feel her planning to throw away the cocktail napkin as soon as she got home. Maybe approaching her in a bar wasn't the greatest idea."
Erik shrugs. Bars had been part of their M.O. throughout this trip, something he suspects is less to do with their suitability for recruitment and more to do with Charles' twin loves of booze and making conversation with strangers. Whatever the reason, it's mostly worked out. They did manage to recruit Angel after all, even if they'd had other, more vulgar rebuffs.
Charles scrubs a hand over his face and starts unbuttoning his shirt, going into the bathroom and raising his voice to yell though the open door. "I could try approaching her again tomorrow, but I'm afraid she'd report us for stalking or something. You made her incredibly nervous for some reason."
I make a lot of people nervous, Erik thinks at him, hearing Charles chuckle in response, his laugh echoing off the tile. The water turns on and Charles comes back with a towel over his shoulder and a toothbrush in his mouth. "What'id yew get up to?" he asks, flecks of toothpaste flying.
"Nothing really, I came back here and took a nap."
"Ugh, that sounds wonderful," Charles says, taking the toothbrush out of his mouth. He goes back into the bathroom to spit and swish. "I'm exhausted."
Erik gets up, moving to lean against the wall opposite the bathroom, standing where he can see Charles through the open door. He has his oxford off now, standing at the counter wearing only his white undershirt. "How exhausted?"
Charles glances at him out of the corner of his eye as he flosses, his smile shifting into something more carnal. "Hm," depends, what are you in the mood for?
Erik shrugs, licking his lips as Charles smirks. They haven't been very creative so far, sticking mostly to friendly handjobs. Erik had sucked Charles off in the last seedy motel they'd stayed at, earning him a boneless happy Charles who had flopped over his chest and mumbled, "You are the most, the best, I really really, I mean—wow."
Erik is still feeling pretty smug about it, and wouldn't mind giving a repeat performance, even if Charles is too tired to reciprocate. But there's something else that's been on his mind, something he's sure Charles has picked up on but is too polite to mention himself. Earlier, before his nap, Erik had jerked off to the idea, imagining Charles in a different position, draped across his back, teeth nipping as he mumbled those same satisfied words into Erik's neck and shoulders.
"I could blow you," Charles offers, leaning over the counter as he starts to wash his face and speaking into the sink. "Might be a little sloppy, but I've been told I'm quite good at it."
"Uh…" Erik's stomach twists. It would be easy to say yes and drop it, and maybe he could come at it sideways—ask Charles to make use of his fingers while he's down there… But Erik really wants to get this out, now that he's managed to work himself up to it. Even if they don't try tonight.
Charles isn't looking at him, eyes closed as he splashes water over his face, and that makes it easier. Erik licks his lips again, mouth feeling dry. "That'd be—great. But, I'd rather… I mean, if you're not too tired, I was thinking—I'd like." I want you to fuck me, he finishes, trusting that Charles is still listening in.
Charles stops, wiping his eyes and looking over his shoulder. "Oh! That would be…." He lets out a little shaky sigh and picks up his towel, smiling as he pats his face dry. "Yes. You know, I think I'm feeling a second wind."
Erik nods, trying to keep his face blank as Charles comes over and takes his wrists. Charles' face is flushed and fresh from the water, his earlier tiredness washed away along with the girt and disappointment of the day. He smiles and pulls gently on Erik's hands, walking backwards as he leads him over to the bed. Erik lets himself be led, trying not to regret asking as Charles takes hold of his shoulders with a firm grip and pushes him down to sit on the edge of the bed.
Normally Erik is the one pushing Charles around, invading his space and moving his body where he wants it, never afraid of taking what he wants. The switch feels uncomfortable, but Erik doesn't know how to take charge of this. It's easier to let Charles take over, even if it makes the back of his neck itch and he suddenly doesn't know where to put his hands. He trusts Charles, much more than he probably should, but it's still hard to trust him with this.
Charles is sending him waves of comfort and reassurance as he stands over him, stroking over his clothed chest and starting to unbutton his shirt. Erik sits impassively, watching as Charles undresses him, raising his hands so he can get the cuffs off and then lifting his arms for his undershirt. Charles is smiling to himself now, looking at Erik's bare chest and tracing his fingers over his bony collarbone and shoulders. He drops his head and finally leans in for a kiss, his arms sliding around Erik's neck.
Erik finds himself grabbing Charles' waist and trying to pull him into his lap, his mouth opening to Charles' tongue. Charles starts to kneel on the bed, but not straddling him like Erik wants, pushing one knee between his legs instead, making him open them and move backward.
One of Charles' hands drifts down and presses firmly on his chest, forcing Erik to lie back while Charles crawls over him, kneeling between his legs. Erik has to raise one leg to make room for him, the position making him open them even more.
"Okay," Charles says, licking his lips. He glances away and turns to look for the jar they normally keep stashed in one of the suitcases, finding it conveniently placed on the nightstand where Erik left it earlier. Charles' knee presses into Erik's crotch as he shifts and he gasps, the weight on his growing erection welcome and too intense all at once.
Charles is smirking when he comes back with the jar, pulling his knee away and using a hand on Erik's stomach to keep him from moving. He unbuttons Erik's pants with delicate fingers and light teasing touches, pulling down the zipper and purposefully running the back of his hand over the fabric underneath, touch still so light, hardly any pressure at all. Erik tries to rise up to meet him but Charles draws his hand away, chuckling as he grumbles in protest.
"Get you pants off."
Erik does, kicking them down and his underwear as well, watching as Charles pulls his own shirt over his head. He stops Erik from sitting up again, bracing one hand next to his head and leaning over Erik as his other hand presses on his twitching stomach, fingers tracing down the line of hair under his naval and coming tantalizingly close to where Erik wants them before stopping. He lifts his hand to reach for the jar, somehow getting the lid open one handed and slicking his fingers, running the wet tips back down Erik's stomach to circle around his cock.
"Ah," Erik gasps, flexing up into his grasp. Charles strokes him slowly, hand still loose and grip open as he runs his palm over Erik's cock, a long stroke that goes from the tip down to his balls and back up again. Erik shifts his legs when Charles' fingers start going lower, bending one knee and bringing it up to put his foot flat on the bed.
Charles is watching his face, eyes hot as Erik stares at the ceiling, trying to relax under his soft, circling touches. He bows his head and kisses Erik's jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. "Is this new?"
"Not exactly, you can—you can start."
Charles sighs and then one finger is pressing inside, opening him carefully. Erik breathes through his nose and tries to remember how to relax into it, reminding himself that he asked for this.
"Should I stop?" Charles asks, tilting his head as his finger stills.
"No, uh, no, I'm. I want." He shifts, moving his hips a little and looking down his body, sucking in a breath at the sight of Charles' hand between his legs.
"Have you ever done this?" Charles asks, still sounding unsure.
"Do you mean—no. Well, not an actual dick." Erik lets his memories of previous encounters and nights alone rise to the front of his mind, flipping through them so Charles can see what he means.
"Ah," Charles says, voice going high. "Okay, uh, that's good. Here then, pull your other leg up."
Erik does and Charles moves to lie flat next to him, stretching out on the bed so their faces are near one another, the movement making his finger twist, drawing a hiss from Erik.
"Okay?" Charles asks, fingers slowing but not stopping this time, his index finger tracing around teasingly as his middle one keeps working, fucking deeper inside.
"You like that?" Charles asks, pressing forward and finding just the right angle.
"Yes, oh, can you—more."
Charles twists his head, pressing his face into the bedspread and smiling with only one eye visible, the second finger sliding in easily, both twisting and circling, opening him further. "Beautiful, just like that. Oh, Erik—"
Erik can feel Charles' arousal now, the shape of it filling his head as well as pressing hot and hard against his thigh. Erik shifts so the position is better and Charles starts to rut a little as his fingers keep working.
"I'm ready," Erik says, biting his lip to keep from gasping. His erection was flagging earlier, but it's back in full force now, his cock starting to leak where it's lying against his stomach.
"One more," Charles says. "You're doing so good."
Erik grits his teeth, surprised at the burning stretch but breathes through it. Charles fumbles with the lubricant, pulling out his fingers to get some more on them. It helps, Erik groaning with pleasure when all three slide back into him easily.
"How's it feel? Is it too much?"
"No, it's—" can you do that, with your knuckles again? "Mh, yes. I—like that."
"Good," Charles whispers, bringing up his free hand to stroke Erik's face, brushing his hair back from his eyes.
Now? Erik asks.
"Now. How do you want me?"
"Uh…" He wants to see Charles' face, but he thinks it'd be too embarrassing to have his legs in the air. Maybe when he's more used to this. Charles nods, following his thoughts, and pulls his hand away, patting Erik's hip to get him to turn over.
"On your knees," he says, kneeling up on the bed and unbuckling his belt.
Erik's face feels hot, but he follows Charles' instructions, bracing his hands and knees on the bed and dropping his head down. Charles kicks off his pants and then runs his hands over Erik's sides, one hand taking his hip while the other traces up his spine, his clean fingers running up into his hair. His leans over him, grinding down and rubbing his cock over his hole as Erik gasps, feeling his body flex in response, an impatient twitch.
"I'm going to fuck you now," Charles says, apparently in no hurry to start. "Do you want me?"
Erik bites his lip and nods.
"Yes," Erik says, not exactly mumbling and starting to feel frustrated. He's not sure why Charles wants him to keep vocalizing when he doesn't need Erik to speak out loud to hear him.
Charles nips behind his jaw, "Now say 'please.'"
Erik bucks a little, making Charles gasp in surprise. "Please fuck me."
Charles laughs, breathless. "Good boy." His fingers tighten in Erik's hair and he shivers, dropping his head again and wishing Charles would stop teasing, or at least touch his cock a little while he makes him wait.
"Do you like that?" Charles asks, lips wet against Erik's ear, his teeth catching as he talks. "When I talk to you like that?"
The question fills Erik with shame, but it also forces another shudder through him. He does. It feels weird, uncomfortable but also freeing somehow. He nods again, looking down at the sheets.
"Oh my, that's—" Charles sounds strangely overwhelmed, pausing for a long moment before he clears his throat. "Good, that's good."
He pulls away, Erik's back feeling empty without his weight, and takes Erik's hips in both of his hands. "Now, uh. Spread your legs a little more."
Erik obeys, feeling like his knees are too far apart, and Charles positions himself. Erik can feel the head of his cock pressing against him and he pushes back, feeling himself start to open around it and getting a sharp slap from Charles for his trouble. "Stop."
Erik does, whimpering when Charles pulls away from him entirely, sitting back on his heels so his hands are the only point of contact between them. "Can you hold still?"
Erik nods, but that doesn't seem to be enough, Charles still waiting for something. He grumbles a little, wishing Charles would stop pushing with this even though it's making his cock pulse and his arms tremble beneath him. Charles seems perfectly content to wait Erik out, so finally he clears his throat and says, "Yes, I—I will."
"That's right, good," Charles answers, rewarding him by kneeling up again, his erection back against the cleft of Erik's ass. Charles takes one hand off of his hip and uses it to tease him with the crown, circling and sliding back and forth, so close. "Put your head down, arms folded."
Erik pauses, but does it, feeling awkward and off-balance, his cock twitching as Charles makes a pleased noise.
And then finally, finally Charles is pressing forward, pushing inside and it feels amazing, the stretch just this side of painful, so much bigger than his fingers but still penetrating him easily.
Erik moans, sounds muffled against his arms, but he resists the urge to push back. "Good, that's it," Charles is saying. "Be good, be good for me—god, Erik."
He pauses, breathing heavily for a moment, and Erik feels his hand shift, thumb sliding down to open him up further, tracing around the place where they're joined. "Almost there."
His hand goes back to his hip and he grips Erik harder, nails biting in as he moves forward the last few inches.
"Oh, ooooh, yes, that's so good—talk to me, Erik."
"Umh." Erik can't really talk with his face pressed into his arms, so he thinks instead. It feels good, you feel good, I like it, love it, you inside me, taking me—
"Yes," Charles hisses. "Take it," he moves once, a short shallow thrust, making Erik gasp. "God, you look so beautiful, turn your head."
Erik does so reluctantly, moving so his face is visible and glancing back at Charles. He's a mess, sweat dripping down his cheek and hair in his face, and he looks amazing, arms flexing as he holds up Erik's hips, shaking a little with repressed desire. Erik sighs, catching his eye and stretching when he sees permission there, arching his back so Charles shifts inside him.
"I'm going to fuck you now," Charles says, and Erik lets out a strangled sound that is almost a whimper. Please.
He starts moving and Erik has to shift his arms, bracing himself against the headboard as Charles jars him, thrusting heavily while his fingers bruise Erik's hips, his hands feeling like the only thing keeping him from collapsing down onto the sheets.
Charles, Charles, I want to feel—with a rush Charles' pleasure crashes over his own, and then Erik's feeling what he's feeling, seeing what he's seeing. The tight heat around his cock, the bare stretch of skin in front of him, Erik's own gasps each time he moves, his little desperate noises driving Charles on.
So good, so good, Charles is thinking. God, I'm going to want to fuck you constantly now, to see that look, your open mouth, hear you gasping my name… it'll never be enough, I'll have you on your knees every chance I get—
Erik isn't really coherent anymore, but he tries to project his approval of this plan. He moves, shifting his weight onto one shoulder so he can free one of his hands, reaching for himself but stopping just before he gets there, some instinct telling him to wait.
"It's okay, touch yourself, I want to feel you come, want to feel it with you, in you."
Erik whimpers for real this time and grasps his cock, still slick from earlier. He tries to squeeze in time with Charles' rhythm, tightening his body as he moves, making Charles grunt. "Fuck, Erik, go on, get yourself off—"
He stills while Erik strokes himself, waiting. Erik closes his eyes and bites his lip, missing the movement and bearing down on the weight inside of him. So close. Charles grinds against him as he works, rolling his hips in a tight circle and keeping up an encouraging litany. "There, like that, good, you're doing so good, come on, come on, there."
Erik's knees go weak as he comes, shaking and gasping, and Charles lowers him down to the bed, staying inside of him and thrusting a few times in counterpoint to Erik's spasms. He stops moving when Erik lets out a near sob at the aftershocks, over-sensitive and barely able to move anymore. Charles pulls out carefully, patting Erik's hip and stroking himself off instead, gasping shortly and coming hot and wet all over his back.
Charles flops down next to him and lets out a long satisfied sigh. "Well." He uses one hand to turn Erik's head, tilting him into a sweet kiss. Erik is panting too heavily to really respond, and Charles moves back to press quick pecks against his mouth and face before collapsing onto the pillow. "Well."
"Thanks," Erik manages, twisting around in the sheets and trying to get closer to Charles, plastering himself against his side.
"Oh, it was my pleasure, anytime," Charles says, raising a hand and laughing and Erik can't help laughing too, rubbing his face against Charles' cheek and sighing with satisfaction.
There's a pause and Charles grins cheekily, "Who's my good boy?"
"Don't push it."
Charles laughs again. "Oh, and you were doing so well. Don't get smart now, I don't have the energy to spank you."
Erik puts his head down, turning it into the pillow and trying to hide the shiver that goes through him. "Yes, professor," he says, trying to be sarcastic, but it comes out almost shamefully earnest.
"Mm," Charles murmurs, nuzzling his ear. "Save that thought for next time."
Yes, please, Erik thinks, feeling Charles smile against the side of his face.