Charles was a flirt. He was all talk and nothing more, Erik knew it. He also knew the origin of such a behavior. Charles was a perpetual insecure individual, always doubting his charm, even with large herds of ladies swooning over his amazing blue eyes and witty conversations. It still hurt when the man would try and seduce a pretty woman while Erik was by his side.
This time, Charles had gone too far. The woman had flirted back, and when she had asked if they could see each other again, Charles hadn't explained right away that he already had someone in his life. Instead, he had given a vague excuse of "not being around for much longer" – which was true, as they were leaving New York in less than a week to go to England. Erik had bolted out of the bar and refused to talk to Charles for a couple of days, even going as far as sleeping on the couch and avoiding him as often as he could.
This morning, Erik woke up, with pain in the shoulders and the back from lying too many nights on a hard sofa. On the coffee table, there was a note, scribbled in Charles' unreadable handwriting. "There's a hot bath waiting for you, and a copious breakfast in the kitchen. I'll be back for lunch. Much love." The attention was very pleasant, and Erik enjoyed it well enough.
But by noon, Charles wasn't back. At 12:30, a groom knocked on the door of their suite, and brought him a delicious meal that Erik wolfed down. The dessert was a simple apple pie covered with a mountain of cream, and served with a glass of champagne. At the bottom of the flute, there was a ring. Erik made it float to him. Inside was engraved a reminder of their first date.
Just when he realized what it meant, Erik heard Charles' voice in his head. "I have the same ring on my finger. You're the one I want to spend my life with. I hope you feel the same."
Erik grinned and sent his own thoughts to Charles. "Come in, you cheeky bastard. I'll show you how I feel about you exactly."
And that, he did. They didn't leave their room until it was time to board the plane.
