Charles ran a finger on Erik's torso. "I hope we didn't wake up the kids." Cuddled up to each other in front of the fireplace after a round of passionate sex on the rug, they were watching the flames dancing, twirling, while chatting away.
"Tell me more about your mother," Charles said, remembering Erik's memory.
Erik frowned, tensing up against Charles, but answered nonetheless. "In the camp, she..."
"No, no," Charles interrupted him. "Tell me about... before. About the songs she sang to you. About the fairytales she read to get you to sleep."
Still unsure, Erik sighed and tried to remember a better time. "It was a long time ago. I don't remember much." He closed his eyes. "Sometimes, I can't even remember her face."
Erik's distress filled Charles's mind with a bitter taste. He sent tiny tendrils of calm and peace to soothe Erik's pain. After a while, the man relaxed under his palm.
"What about your mother ?" Erik finally asked.
Charles shrugged. "I don't have much to say about her. I never really knew her." He snuggled even more to Erik and placed a kiss upon his chest. "Besides, I have a new family now."
Hesitant, Erik stared at his face for some time, without a word. He seemed to find what he was looking for : he smiled and kissed Charles's forehead.
Later, they made love again.