Whom My Soul Loves
A/N: This is intended as First Class era Erik and Charles, but if you'd rather picture their Ian Mckellen and Patrick Stewart incarnations, feel free! (Though, to be perfectly honest, I'd have a hard time imagining that, and I think old Erik and Charles are still pretty hot, so maybe it's best if you just picture James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender.) Thank you to the wonderful SiriuslyPeeved who so kindly beta'd this for me. :)
"I am my beloved's," Erik murmured as he ran his hands reverently down the sides of Charles naked body, "and he is mine." His eyes drank in the sight before him from under heavy lids.
Charles made a disbelieving sound in his throat and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Quoting the Bible, Erik—at a time like this? Really?"
Erik narrowed his eyes at Charles as he leaned forward to place a row of kisses along his collarbone. Not 'the Bible,' he thought pointedly.
Charles laughed somewhat breathlessly. "Oh come now, Erik, I think I know the Bible when I—ah-ahh!" his words cut off in a gasp as Erik bit down a little harder than expected on his right nipple with a low growl.
Erik sat up, regarding Charles with a look of disparaging disdain. "It's the Tanakh."
Charles frowned slightly up at him. "Isn't that the same thing as the Old Testament?"
Erik leaned over and breathed against Charles' ear causing a shiver to run through Charles' body. "No," he whispered adamantly, then took the earlobe between his teeth and scraped his teeth over it as he pulled off—and was rewarded by a pleasant shudder.
Charles grasped Erik's head between his hands and gently guided his mouth over his own for a hungry kiss. Breaking the kiss, Charles looked up into Erik's eyes with open adoration. "I sat down under his shadow with great delight," he quoted, "and his fruit was sweet to my taste." He paused, then added, "Song of Solomon." His eyes flashed with amusement.
"Song of Songs," Erik corrected with a glare. "And it's not fair if you do it."
Charles chuckled, splaying his hands across Erik's chest. "I think you are confused about the meaning of the word 'fair,' my friend."
"Perhaps," Erik said distractedly, taking one of Charles' hands in a gentle yet insistent grasp and kissing each fingertip in turn. "I found him whom my soul loves," Erik murmured. "I held him, and would not let him go."
"He is altogether lovely," Charles responded, his voice thick with emotion as he clasped Erik's hand tightly. He ran his other hand down Erik's thigh, his fingers tracing the shape of the toned muscles beneath the skin.
"This is my beloved…and this is my friend," Charles and Erik whispered the words in unison.
Erik covered Charles' body with his own, reveling in the feel of Charles' warm, bare chest against his own. "Maybe it's not so bad," he mumbled into Charles' shoulder.
"Maybe what's not so bad?" Charles asked, running his fingers through Erik's hair.
"When you quote the Bible," Erik grumbled.
"I thought I was quoting the Tanakh."
"No," Erik said, nuzzling the curve of Charles' throat. "That's what I was quoting."
Charles laughed, still stroking Erik's hair. "We were quoting the same thing." He pressed his lips against Erik's temple. And I take back what I said earlier about the timing—it's lovely, and I think you should quote the Tanakh…all the time.
Erik pushed himself up with his arms to look down into Charles' eyes again. Erik whispered, "Set me as a seal upon your heart…for love is as strong as death."
Charles reached up and cupped the side of Erik's face and ran his thumb gently across Erik's cheekbone. "Many waters cannot quench love," Charles whispered, "nor can floods drown it."
As Erik leaned down and captured Charles' mouth once again in a kiss that was at once both fiercely demanding and agonizingly gentle, his thought echoed his earlier words: I held him, and would not let him go.