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Erik was sitting on the couch, his arms cross, eyes flickering around the room in the way it did when he was upset. Charles sighed, peering over his paper at Erik, and slowly folded it, moving to sit near him, his chair parked near the seat. Erik’s eyes flickered angrily at him, and he almost imperceptibly moved away. Charles just opened his paper again, humming.
“Why did you move?” Erik asked, staring at him. Charles very carefully didn’t look up, his eyes moving like he was reading.
“More comfortable,” Charles said. Discomfort radiated off of Erik’s mind, something sharp and angry and afraid. Charles just took a sip of his tea, only then sparing him a glance. “Something on your mind?”
“You’re in it,” Erik said slowly. “Out.”
“We’ve had this conversation so many times,” Charles said, slowly setting his cup down. “You know I can’t help-”
“Stop,” Erik said, standing.
“I- Erik,” Charles said, watching him move. “Come back here.”
“Why don’t you just make me?” Erik asked, his eyes narrowed.
“What has gotten into you?” Charles asked, blinking at him. Erik just raised his eyebrows a little, shaking his head.
“Why don’t you find out?” Erik asked.
“We’ve talked this to death, you know I am not going to do that,” Charles snapped. “Now would you sit down and explain-”
“No, I think you’re just fine,” Erik said.
“Erik I will follow you,” Charles said, moving and grabbing the wheel of his chair. Erik made an infuriating little scoff, holding his hand out and summoning the chair to him. Charles stared at him, eyebrows raised, as Erik twitched his fingers, bending the wheels. “What is wrong with you?”
“Oh, did you need that?” Erik asked, tilting his head.
“Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, I swear on my life-”
“Ohh middle name, so scary,” Erik taunted.
“You fix my chair right now,” Charles said. “I am not above mind control, regardless of my moral compass, would you just fix it?”
“Fix it?” Erik asked. “Fix what?”
“Erik-”
“I’m going to sleep on the couch,” Erik said, turning.
“What?” Charles asked. “I- what are you on about?”
“Nothing. I am just going to sleep on the couch.”
“Could you maybe talk to me for once in your life?” Charles asked, throwing his hands up. “I don’t even know why you’re mad with me.”
“I’m not mad,” Erik said.
“Then why are you acting mad.”
“I am not mad, if you think I am acting mad that’s on you,” Erik said. Charles groaned, covering his face.
“Please just talk to me like a sane person,” Charles said imploringly. “I didn’t mean to upset you, whatever I did, can we just talk about-”
“Goodbye Charles.”
"Erik I can't move," Charles called after him. "I can't get out of here."
"I'm sure you can convince someone," Erik said from the other room. "I hear you are very persuasive."
"Please just give me my chair back, I don't care if you sleep on the couch, but I need my bloody chair," Charles said.
Erik was already gone.
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"Hey, Professor, what are you… doing?"
Charles awkwardly startled awake to Sean walking into the room, and quickly oriented himself to his environment. It did not take a long time for his mind to come back to him, along with the events of the last night, and he found himself rolling his eyes.
"Hey Sean, how are you?" Charles asked.
"…Good. Do you need your chair?" Sean asked, looking around. "Oh. What happened?"
"Oh nothing, it does that sometimes," Charles said. "Mind of it's own, that thing."
"Well how will you get around?" Sean asked.
"I'll figure it out, I always do," Charles said in a breezy tone non-reflective of his mood. "Do you know where Erik is?"
"No, last time I saw him was light night," Sean said. "He was pissy."
"Language… that's not surprising to me," Charles said.
"Did he mess up your chair?" Sean asked, the idea seemingly just now dawning on him.
"Um, no," Charles said. Sean's mind and face looked equally unconvinced.
"Shit," Sean said, drawing the word out comedically.
"Language," Charles chided, shaking his head in amusement.
"Sorry Professor. I can go find him, if you want," Sean said. "So he can fix it."
"That would be lovely," Charles said. "Only if you have the time."
"Yeah dude, I've got time," Sean said. "Hey, if you do get it fixed, me and Alex and Hank are having a hot-dog eating contest, Raven is going to judge, you wanna watch?"
"…not particularly, no," Charles said. "Thank you for the offer, and be sure to let me know who wins."
"Oh it's for sure going to be me," Sean said. "I've eaten so many hot dogs in my life- sorry, let me go get Erik."
"Thank you."
Charles looked around, trying to stretch once he was sure Sean was gone, and instantly winced. His back hurt. Actually, hurt was a entirely unsympathetic adjunctive, his back felt like it was on fire, and muscle spasms ran through it in subtle ripples that made Charles clench his hands on the seat cushions. His head was throbbing too, likely the tension of his back spreading upwards, and he had just gotten his legs into a normal-looking position when Erik appeared in the doorway, his face neutral and posture tight.
"Would you please help me with my chair?" Charles asked, looking up at him. Erik didn't respond for a moment, but he did cross his arms. "Erik, please?"
"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Erik asked, his tone cool.
"I would like to be able to eat, or use the restroom, and I cannot do either of those things if I am trapped on this couch," Charles said, fighting back tears of frustration. "Now I understand you're quite upset with me, and I understand you don't care to explain why, but I really do need my chair."
"You seem upset yourself," Erik said. Charles bit his lip, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm sure you could convince someone-"
"I'm not asking anyone for that," Charles snapped, interrupting Erik's thought before he could finish. "I don't want anyone to have to carry me like a child, I want my chair back. Actually, I want my legs back but that's certainly not about to happen, and the chair is the next best thing."
"It would be easy to remove their memories; you could keep your esteemed role in their minds.
"What has gotten into you?" Charles said, exasperation thick in his voice. "I have not, to my knowledge, done a single thing to warrant this."
"You suddenly have so many boundaries around your powers," Erik said.
"I have always had these bounds and you know damn well," Charles said, swallowing hard so he didn't start sobbing on the spot. "I just want to go back to my bed and be able to shower, is that really worth this sport?"
"Your bed?" Erik said, raising his eyebrows.
"Well you so willingly gave up your spot last night," Charles said. "Lovely, by the way, that you got that choice. Now either talk about what's bothering you, or give me my bloody chair and go on your merry way."
"You had a lot to say last night, didn't you?" Erik asked.
"What are you talking about?" Charles asked. "Do you mean after you yelled at me? Because yes, I would say that's quite typical."
"Hm," Erik said, turning like he was going to leave.
"Erik."
"You had a lot to learn about, too, didn't you?" Erik asked. "Really shocking, if you know ever single part of my mind, that you don't know why this would be upsetting."
"I didn't do anything last night, I didn't even read your mind," Charles said.
"Oh, you didn't?" Erik asked.
"No, I didn't, now what are you on about?"
"You most certainly were there," Erik said, stepping into the room fully and closing the old, polished, wooden door behind him.
"I was not," Charles said, this time near tearful yet again. Erik always seemed to have that effect on him.
"Honestly Charles I have known you for more than I year, I think I would know when you're in my head," Erik said. Charles paused, wiping his eyes, and stared.
"When?" Charles asked.
"What do you mean when?"
"When was I in your head?" Charles asked. Erik squinted.
"When I was reading the paper, you know that."
If Charles hadn't been so upset, he might have laughed. "Erik, I can't control that."
"Well you do a perfect job controlling it when you're around others," Erik said. Charles did laugh that time, scrubbing at his face in frustration.
"Because my mental walls are up, I can't do that all of the time, just ask Raven, why do you think she sleeps on the opposite side of the house?" Charles asked. "I can't stop my mind from doing that any more than you can stop yourself from knowing what metal is in a room you walk into."
"But you can stop it, and you didn't," Erik said.
"Because I forgot to, alright? Because I was too comfortable and I forgot to keep up the mental shield and you suffered for it by being too near me and I am bloody sorry, but if you keep being this angry at least give me my chair back," Charles said, half frustration and half a plea.
"A likely story," Erik said. "That would be like you, to frame it as an honor."
"I just want my chair, I didn't mean to."
Then Charles did cry, tears slipping from his eyes without permission, and falling pitifully onto his cardigan. Erik watched, seemingly unmoved, as Charles gathered his composure. It took almost a full minute of Charles actively repressing it, before he was able to take another deep breath and continue. "I don't know how to stop my mind from doing that, I am just so used to being around you, is all, and I forget that I have to. It's not a lie, I don't know how to do it all the time. It gives me a headache."
"What do you mean, you can't do it all the time?" Erik asked, his icy tone betrayed by a edge of genuine curiosity.
"I mean I can't, I don't have that kind of control over my powers, it takes so much power to cage them off, it isn't sustainable," Charles said. "And then I get all… I don't know, shaky and weird."
"…tell me more," Erik said, moving to sit by him. Charles sighed, shaking his head.
"I can't explain it if you haven't felt it," Charles said.
"Than make me feel it," Erik said earnestly. Charles shifted back, staring at him in a bit of shock, and a lot of distrust.
"You're just destroyed my chair, I'm not sure you want me to be in your mind," Charles said, the worlds biggest understatement. Erik winced, raising his hand and summoning the chair, ironing out the bend and moving it writhen reach at the same time. Charles moved into it as quickly as he could, wincing as he felt his stiff, angry muscles protest.
"Tell me," Erik said, blinking at him. "…please?"
"Okay, come here," Charles said, gesturing to Erik. He obediently moved forward, letting Charles cautiously brush his fingers against Erik's cool temple. He pressed forward the sensation, careful to keep his powers in check, only sending the image and doing his best to stay on his side of the telepathic link.
Erik's brow furrowed as he awkwardly moved his hands, clearly trying to sense the feeling in it's full sense. He did eventually open his eyes, and Charles pulled back, reeling in his sensation and suppressing it. Erik raised his brows, surveying him for a second, before reaching out, holding his hand out. Charles glanced down at it, wearily, and Erik sighed heavily.
"I'm sorry," Erik said. Charles blinked at him, brow furrowed.
"What?" Charles asked, laughing a little. Erik made a hurt, slightly confused expression, and Charles shook his head. "I'm sorry that was just… a rather quick shift."
"I think it might be a little overdue," Erik said. Charles finally took his hand, shaking his head good naturally. "I'm sorry I made you sleep down here, I shouldn't have taken your chair."
"No, you shouldn't have," Charles said. "But it's okay."
"No, it's actually not okay at all, Charles," Erik said. "And I… knew it while I did it, but I was so angry… I don't always feel in control of myself when I am like that."
"Well… at least you felt bad," Charles said. Erik shook his head, pulling back with a odd expression on his face. "What?"
"Jesus Christ Charles, how low did I set the bar?" Erik said. "I'd feel bad for murder too."
"That's actually not true at all," Charles said, smirking.
"Nazi's aren't human, I have no obligation to feel bad about them," Erik said.
"I'm not saying you do," Charles countered quickly, before a new fight could form. "I mean it, it's alright, I just am glad to have my chair back."
"I took your fucking chair," Erik mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face. "Charles, sometimes I genuinely don't know what comes over me. I just… do things."
"It's okay-"
"No it's not, stop saying that it is," Erik said firmly. Charles cringed leaning back with the distinct impression that anything he might say to Erik would be wrong. "I really didn't mean to cause such problems for you, Charles. I would kill anyone else who did these things to you."
"Well maybe we can raise our bar for what warrants a death sentence," Charles said slowly.
"I don't know why I act this way, I am sorry," Erik said. "I'm more sorry than I could tell you, please forgive me."
"You're forgiven," Charles said, chuckling at the sincere reverence in Erik. "Darling, I am chronically incapable of staying angry with you."
"You shouldn't be," Erik said. "Anyone else would have thrown me out."
"Well I never claimed to be mainstream," Charles countered.
Erik paused at that, and Charles did his best to not sense the combination of rage and awe, tangling in Erik's mind like they were fighting for dominance. Finally, Erik just shrugged, moving and grabbing Charles's hand again.
"You slept on the couch, and in a weird position at that, are you in pain?" Charles blinked rapidly, his eyes fluttering closed as he tilted his head.
"…No," He said, opening his eyes and seeing Erik's disbelief. "Nothing too bad."
"Your back…"
"Will recover in time, don't you worry about that," Charles said, waving him off.
"Do you need anything?" Erik asked, the following thoughts of please, tell me I can do something echoing so loudly in his mind Charles couldn't help but hear it.
"I'm going to go lie down, it's hard on my spine to sit like this for too long," Charles said. "You could join me if you like."
"Would you like that?" Erik asked hesitantly. Charles just laughed.
"Yes, Erik, I would."
Erik did not move until Charles did, but he did quietly ease the movements of Charles's chair, helping push him towards the elevator to keep him from having to strain his still muscles more than he should have to. Charles was quite sure Erik also sped up the elevator, as the trip was much faster than normal, but he couldn't quite be sure. The movement made his head pound, and he closed his eyes tightly against the feeling.
By the time they were in their room, the ache had moved into something more acute, and Charles's whole face felt hot, and his body felt cold, and he felt like his jaw was working overtime to grind away the pain, unintentionally making it worse. Erik hovered awkwardly nearby, the distant presence of his mind filled with anxiety and fear.
"Erik, darling, I am trying not to hear you think, but you're making it difficult," Charles said, rubbing at his temples.
"I'm sorry; I don't mind you in my head," Erik said. Charles opened his eyes, giving him a look. "I may have overreacted."
"May have," Charles echoed, smirking at him. Erik shook his head, moving Charles to the bed and pulling the covers off. He didn't move Charles though, which made him quite grateful.
There was little Charles hated more than his autonomy being taken from him.
"Do you need anything?" Erik asked. Charles chuckled fondly, waving him over.
"Come sit?" Charles asked. Erik hesitated at that, watching him like he didn't know what he was saying. "Yes, you, you dolt. I missed you, come here."
Erik moved like he was sitting in a electric chair, the way his tense muscles coiled away from him, and his eyes wearily skimmed Charles's face. His mind was closed off, and Charles fondly noted the surface thoughts of his mind, a war of let Charles in-not safe-let him hear you-don't do it-be open-be careful.
"I'm not angry with you, Erik," Charles said. "But next time, please leave the chair, okay?"
Erik nodded stiffly, and Charles reached a arm out. Erik looked at it, like he was confused. Charles just shook his head, waving him in, and Erik finally moved, adjusting to sit with his back to the headboard, and Charles easily wrapped his arms around Erik's leg, his head resting on his thigh.
"You're in pain," Erik said. Charles just hummed, and Erik's hand very cautiously came up to the back of his head, slowly moving up and down his neck and head, prodding occasionally at the knotted muscles. "I can feel it, your back must be messed up."
"It's been worse," was all Charles could bring himself to say.
"And I caused it," Erik said.
"Oh stop that-"
"No," Erik cut him off. "I caused it. You're in pain, and it's my fault."
"Well… you came back," Charles said simply, after a moment. Erik mentally winced at the ease of the statement, and Charles sighed, pressing his head into Erik a little more. "You're not the first complicated person I have loved. I don't need you to always be good to me, Erik, I just need you to wish you were."
"Charles… I don't want that," Erik said. "I want to be good. I don't know why I am this way."
"It's not a bad way to be," Charles said, even as he felt the throbbing pain close in on him, making him tighten his arms around Erik, something he hoped read as affection. "It's just a way."
"No, it's definitely a bad way," Erik said, his hand moving now with more intention over the tense muscles. "I'm sorry."
"I forgave you," Charles said.
"It didn't stop me being sorry," Erik said. "I can feel how badly you must be hurting now. Even just physically."
"The self-flagellation won't improve it," Charles said. "Honest Erik, it's nothing too bad."
"Just… stay still," Erik said, through gritted teeth.
"You'll give yourself a headache like that," Charles said.
"Shut up."
Erik's hand moved daftly up and down Charles's back, his thumb firm against the knotted muscles, rubbing there until one spot would begin to release the horded tension there, before he moved on. He quickly established a rout, moving through different pain points with pensive precision, until Charles felt the ache in his body begin to subside, replaced bit by bit with exhaustion.
"Thank you," Charles muttered.
"Shut up," Erik snapped, continuing the movement as Charles smiled a little to himself. Erik was quiet for another few minutes, before clearing his throat awkwardly. "You're um… you're not in my head."
"You made your feelings on the topic abundantly clear," Charles replied.
"Yeah but… you know, if you would like to be, I don't mind," Erik said. Charles lifted his pounding head at that, glowering. "Honestly."
"Erik, you're delightful, how on earth do you expect me to believe that?" Charles asked. Erik just shook his head.
"I thought… I don't know what I thought, to be honest," Erik said. "That you were doing it intentionally, and that the reason you'd do that must be to… um. To control me."
"You wonderful, paranoid man," Charles said. Erik cleared his throat again, squirming a little.
"Well… I want you to relax," Erik said. "So please, don't hold your telepathy on my account."
"You're ridicules," Charles said, unable to think of a better response to that, because honestly, there really wasn't one. "You know, you're lucky I grew up handling Raven's moods, because this doesn't shock me the way it should."
"Yeah yeah," Erik grumbled. "I'll be sure to tell her you said that."
But he did mean it, and as he let his face relax, melting into Erik, he let his mind do the same. Tentatively, reaching out and searching for the familiarity of Erik's mind. He was still met with fear, but also relief, the gratitude Erik felt at Charles's lack of reservation was palpable, and Charles smiled a little into his leg.
"Do you need-"
"No, Erik. I'm fine," Charles reassured. Erik nodded, even as Charles felt the doubt in his mind. "I'm struggling to keep my eyes open. I apologize."
"There's something wrong with you, too," Erik said, his mind relaxing into something a little peaceful. "Go to sleep. You can't have slept well on the sofa."
"I barely slept, in all honesty," Charles mumbled. "Are you sure you don't mind? You don't have to stay…"
"I'm staying," Erik said in a terse voice. "Sleep."
"Wow, commanding-"
"Charles."
"Okay, okay, closing my eyes, love."
Erik stayed.