i wanna see you as you are now [ charles + erik ]

[mutantrights]

[ continued from here ]

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ten million years later ~ forgive me

[magnetisch]

( no cape, as he'd promised. just the usual turtleneck sweater, leather jacket and jeans. no helmet either. erik's already made himself comfortable in charles' suite, leaning against his desk by the window, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for the other man. he can sense him moving around through the mansion in that wheelchair of his, feeling the pull of that cold steel that unfortunately accompanies the professor these days. it's both familiar and unfamiliar, but he resists the temptation to take control of that chair, simply choosing to wait, patiently. what's a few more minutes compared to the time they've been apart since cuba.

erik has brought over dinner like he said he would. a braised brisket sandwich and some fluffy pastries for dessert. but the food isn't why he's here. not that he's expecting much out of this impromptu meeting. he'd simply felt the need to see him -- has felt the need to see him the moment he'd set foot in new york. somehow his thoughts kept straying back to charles, curious as ever to see how he's doing. )

How long are you planning on making me wait, Charles? If you want to punish me, there are other ways you could go about it in person... ( so much for being patient. he knows charles would have picked up on that. in fact, he's counting on it. )

no worries! :D

[mutantrights]

Charles hadn't exactly expected that a one night stand and a misfired text would be the thing to finally enable him to see Erik again, but he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. It's been some years since Cuba, though the memories are still fresh in his mind. He's gone from hating Erik to missing him desperately and back again more times than he can count, never quite able to make up his mind.

Mostly, he just wistfully thinks about the incredible things they could achieve together, if only they were on the same page. But since he also knows they're both incredibly stubborn, he's not sure that'll ever happen.

Now that he's in the mansion, Erik is closer than he's been in years. His mind is a beacon, bright and sharp and so vivid, and it takes every scrap of control that Charles has not to reach out and touch.

Moments after Erik speaks, the door opens. "Patience is a virtue, Erik," he greets airily, overly casual, wheeling himself in. "Sorry for being a touch late, my last class ran long when the students insisted on getting into one of Poe's more esoteric poems." His rooms suddenly feel so much smaller with Erik in it, the man's very presence larger than life. "I see you left the cape behind; my eyes thank you."