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You're All I Want (My Fantasy)

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No one's on this side of the building right now; Charles gives Erik a light push and gets him into the mechanical photobooth.

"If this is going to lead to some sort of public display..." Erik begins.

"Not so public," Charles protests. He draws the curtain across the booth's entrance. It's narrow in here, close, but they've been in closer quarters. They've made love in closer quarters, Charles thinks with some satisfaction. He doesn't plan on going quite that far this time.

They both have a seat on the bench across from the camera-- well, "both" is probably pushing it, as they don't quite fit. Charles tries to dig his hand into his pocket for change, but ends up elbowing Erik in the ribs. All right, so the booth wouldn't really be ideal for a public assignation. It would depend on if Charles were actually sitting on Erik, which he isn't doing now.

After Charles's elbow collides with Erik's ribs for the second time, Erik takes pity on Charles, stilling Charles's arm and floating the coins out of Charles's pocket. He glances at the instructions posted below the camera's lens, and floats a quarter over, hovering it near the slot.

"You were planning on taking photos, weren't you?" Erik asked.

"Oh, absolutely." Charles beams up at him, and Erik drops the quarter into the slot.

They're still looking at each other when the camera snaps for the first time-- Charles's adoring expression frozen forever on film, along with Erik's indulgent smile. For the next photo, they both look into the lens, and Erik attempts a grin, which only barely resembles the usual version of that expression. Charles tries to look more dignified, but he isn't sure he's managing it, either.

After the second click, Charles reaches up, tugs Erik's face down. Erik goes, but the camera takes the third picture before their lips are touching. It isn't until the fourth click that they have an image of the two of them kissing, and the kiss goes on for some time before Charles finally draws away.

"Well! Shall we see what we've got?" Charles asks.

"I assumed we would."

Charles steps out of the booth, Erik following; by now there are a pair of young children waiting their turn outside. As soon as the strip of film comes out of the slot, Charles snatches it up, and they walk away with it before the pictures become visible on the photo paper.

The images develop over time, and Charles glances from the strip to Erik, back and forth. "Which two would you like?"

"You should keep them. It was your idea."

"There are two of us and four pictures. You should take two for yourself," Charles insists.

He's still thinking about it when they get back to their motel room that night. Eventually, he says, "I'll take the top two."

"You wanting the top? Never imagined it," Charles teases. He gets a pair of scissors out of his shaving kit and gives Erik the top two photographs. He's pleased with the arrangement, himself; the idea of carrying around pictures of their kiss pleases Charles to no end. He doubts he'll ever empty them out of his wallet.

Over the rest of the trip, from time to time Charles catches Erik looking at the pictures he kept. The expression on Erik's face matches the one in the second picture-- the grin he's trying for, but never seems to have the knack for making.

It's all right, Charles thinks. He's got more than enough time to teach Erik how to smile.