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Written Legacy

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Charles likes to return to his work immediately after they make love. There's something about the clarity of mind and the languidness of body that he feels in the aftermath of shared love that lends itself to his research. He might feel the need to apologize if it were anyone else filling his bed as he drags over a fountain pen and notepad to where they lie pressed together, replete against silk sheets, post-coital sweat still drying on their bodies. But not to Erik, never to Erik.

Charles sends out a wave of affection, the shape of Erik's mind against his so familiar and precious, and receives a feeling of deep comfort and satisfaction in return as he brushes a hand over Erik's damp hair, where he lies draped over Charles' lap, lazily drowsing.

Charles sets his papers against Erik's back and begins to write, not yet fully formed theories, still only another hypothesis of what the future might hold for mutantkind, all the wonderful and strange ways that genetics will both separate and combine us as a race. The pointed steel nib of Charles' pen must scratch against Erik's skin, the thin sheaf of papers meager protection as Charles continues to use him as an impromptu desk, but Charles feels no sense of discomfort from Erik's mind.

If anything the opposite, Charles finds as he skims over the surface of Erik's mind. It takes an effort to block Erik's thoughts and keep them separate from his own at the best of times, as Erik had come to realize early on in their relationship. Charles rarely bothers when they're together like this, Erik wouldn't have it any other way. He would not have Charles hide himself away, not here, in their shared bed.

{?} Charles sends, a wordless question, now thoroughly distracted from his writing by the upsurge in Erik's thoughts.

Erik sends back pleasure at the feel of steel moving so close to his skin, even through the boundary of paper, still delicious and sharp. And more than that, Erik's delight in Charles' work, though he does not recognize all of the words Charles uses as they flow over and across his skin, there is still the profound joy he feels at the knowledge that Charles is writing of their future together, their legacy as a people. It's a sensation that Erik feels deeply.

"Oh my, dear," Charles murmurs, more touched than he can put into words, as Erik's face presses against Charles' belly, sex-flushed and so beautiful.

There was a time when Erik might have pulled away from a sentiment like that, perhaps felt shame at the depth of his own pleasure, his deep and unabiding love for Charles, as much as he likes to pretend that he does not care for convention.

But, as Erik lets Charles see, he would not have this moment ruined, not when they have so few of them as it is to spend together.

Charles doesn't bother to hide his smile as Erik stays close, and relaxes into Charles' hold as Charles begins to write again, both of their thoughts drifting to what the future may hold, both content with the idea that when they are written of, it will be together.