This is the final log entry of Admiral Lehnsherr. We are about to dock at Genosha and I can finally say that my mission is over and I am home - for the first time in four years.
I have a promise to keep and before I can do so, I need to change out of my uniform. It is tainted with the blood of our enemies and it is now a relic of a time I shall be glad to put behind me.
In four short years they had become a legend. The young prince of a small moon who slept for decades and his warlord lover who had liberated him.
Erik still fondly remembered finally having the forces to take the moon of Westchester and force his way into the tower where the Markos had held Charles in cryo-sleep. Remembered how Charles had finally opened his eyes and Erik had pledged his eternal servitude.
Charles had always teased Erik for being a romantic at heart - even before they had met physically and Charles had been a mental presence in Erik's life, never straying far.
And now Erik was going to close a chapter of his life, close one door and open another one. He had after all promised Charles this - and it had taken less time than he'd expected. The known galaxy had always been a place of skirmishes, of wars, of pain and suffering with a few tolerable place in between.
For four years Erik had travelled the galaxy, a show of muscles, a suggestion here, a threat there and a rattling of sabres - and it had come to this. The known galaxy had folded like a cheap suit. The once prince, now Emperor had his Empire, and Erik could finally keep his promise.
Erik stopped in front of the great doors leading to the throne room - they had jokingly dubbed it this before Erik had left, and while there had been no throne, it had been where Charles would meet with anyone coming to him to sign the treaty.
Often these were people Erik had leaned on - in some cases rather heavily, in a few, even rather violently. Some had needed more persuasion than others.
He had put aside his dark wine-red uniform and donned a long white cape and cowl before taking care of a few tasks and leaving his ship in space dock. He had heard the whispers as he had passed people on the way from the dock. They knew him, they knew who he was and they knew where he was going and who was waiting for him.
Sinking his gift into the heavy doors, Erik pushed them open, striding into the room. He skillfully didn't falter when he realized that in his absence, Charles had made good of his threat to add a throne to the room.
There was no one else in the room, save the figure seated on the throne. Dressed in a white uniform, in cut not unlike the one Erik had left behind on the ship, Charles sat silently, waiting for him. It was a lovely sight to Erik. He knew perfectly well that Charles had worn nothing but black since the day Erik had set out on his mission. A show of his sadness to see Erik go, even if they had agreed it would be necessary to bring the galaxy into their fold.
Erik remembered how they'd almost fought about it - how Charles had fought Erik on Erik's insistence that he be the one to lead it all in the field. Someone else could have done it, maybe not as fast, but someone else could have - it just wouldn't have been right.
"It's done," Erik finally said, coming to a stop at the foot of the ten steps leading up to the throne.
"Yes," Charles answered, his head cocked to the side, his body relaxed in his seat, yet there is no mistaking the predatory air that lay just below the deceptively soft outer.
"I am here as promised." Erik had wondered at first what he could say, if he should have prepared a full speech for this moment - and then he'd realized it. He had to make it all come naturally from the heart, and for this there was no room for planning.
"Yes," Charles said, his mind curling even tighter around Erik's.
Erik shivered. Charles had held back until now. He'd known Erik was on his way, but he'd kept his mind tightly leashed - he had always loved delaying his own gratification and Erik had expected this. The feeling wasn't unlike being a cracked rock in the middle of a rushing river. Water flowing in and around him - filling every little space of Erik's being.
The soft curve of Charles' mouth deepened and the smile that followed was both bright and predatory.
It was the cue Erik had been waiting for. Closing the distance, he walked the steps up to stand in front of Charles. He'd spent time before leaving the ship, readying himself. Pushing the cowl back, he undid his cape and let it fall to the ground, draping the floor at his feet. He could appreciate that the room was kept at a balmy temperature, his naked skin unprotected under his Emperor's gaze.
The way he had intended it.
The first time he had laid eyes on Charles, in the cryo-pod, and after, when the man had stepped out of it, Charles had met him openly, naked, in every sense of the word. Nothing to hide behind, naked as the day he'd been born. And just as that first day, Erik dropped to one knee, the cool surface of the floor hard against his knee. He was aware of the new scars he'd acquired since the last time Charles had seen him like this - he could feel the heavy gaze as Charles took it all in. The changes, the things that were the same.
"Stand," Charles demanded softly. He breathed in sharply when Erik did as he was told. "You no longer kneel to me, my love." Charles held out his hand and Erik readily took it.
The heat of skin against his own - being only their hands touching - filled Erik's body with heat, his already half-hard cock filling completely. He'd missed this man, missed his warmth so much.
You are my equal, in your own eyes now as you have always been in mine." Charles' lips parted, the tip of his tongue wetting his lower lip.
"Yes," Erik answered. It had been one of his reasons for the mission. Earn his place at Charles' side. His consort.
"My soulmate, my darling love," Charles sighed softly inside his mind.
Erik bowed his head and stepped close enough to feel the fabric of Charles' trousers against his own knees.
Charles put a hand on his hip, not for a moment taking his eyes away from Erik's. Being urged forward by a gentle pressure, Erik put a knee on either side of Charles' thighs and loomed over him, leaning his forehead against Charles'.
One hand still on Erik's hipbone, Charles slid his hand between their bodies, gently running a finger from the root of Erik's cock to the tip.
The touch was almost electrifying and Erik had to fight to stay in place, to keep from crowding closer, to rub himself all over Charles.
"Aw, you minx," Charles muttered, teasingly running his fingers up over Erik's hip, down his cleft. "You gorgeous beast," he breathed as he dipped the tip of his finger inside, slipping easily in with the aid of the lube Erik had liberally applied before leaving his ship.
Not trusting his voice, Erik stretched up on his knees and reached down, undoing the fly of Charles' trousers. They shifted in unison and a moment later, Erik crowded Charles in the seat, rising just enough to position himself at an angle and feeling the head of Charles' cock push against his opening.
They hadn't broken eye contact at any point, and Erik wasn't about to do so now. Putting both hands on the back of the throne, he waited only long enough for Charles to let go of him to guide his cock inside, before he slowly began lowering himself down.
Charles voice sounded almost broken and any control he'd kept over his mind, inside and outside of Erik's evaporated. The swirl of thoughts, longings, arousal and a love so deep it should have scared Erik filled him, like water overflowing.
Slowly pushing himself the rest of the way down, even with the angle, he could feel Charles' cock filling him, as his mind was filled with everything completely unfiltered from Charles.
The broken sound escaping Charles as Erik came to a rest, seated in Charles' lap was like the sweetest note. The raspy sound of breathing from them both as Erik let Charles guide him up, slowly, to only gently pull him back down was at once filthy and beautiful.
For far too long Erik had been without this, been without the intimacy - both physically as well as mentally. The way his climax rose like tendrils of heat wrapped around his spine and Charles' mind inside his own, tangling to the point where Erik knew not where he ended and Charles began.
Not that he cared; it was how it was supposed to be.
Erik let go of the throne and covered Charles' hands with his own, eyes never leaving Charles' and not a single word breathed between them.
Arching his back, Erik felt his balls tightening, semen spattering Charles' chest and shoulder. And while Erik's first thought was to stop and savour it, he discarded the idea and let Charles guide him into a rhythm that was both sweetly painful in its pleasure as well as seemed to cloud his mind until Charles' fingers dug into his hips and Erik could feel his climax as well.
Finally Charles held Erik's hips down, not letting his move again. "My consort, the other half of my soul," he breathed against Erik's chest.
"Yes," was all that Erik could say, the only answer he could give.