Author's Note: Hello all! This is my first Cherik fic, but I genuinely hope you enjoy it. It's not perfect, but I enjoyed writing it, and I hope it means something to someone out there.
Charles knows, in some deep, dark, secret place inside his soul, that Erik is broken. He's lived too many years in pain and misery to be anything but. Every minuscule piece of Erik is spidered through with cracks and fissures, filled in with bitter hatred and the deepest agony. A man whose soul is stained with black the way Erik's is has no place in the life, the heart, of a man like Charles.
And yet…
"Erik!" His name wrenches from Charles' throat like an arrow ripped from flesh. "Erik, please! Don't do this!"
"I'm sorry, old friend." Erik says softly, his blue-gray eyes dark with determination, tinted with regret. "I told you once before; peace was never an option."
Pain lances through Charles' chest, sharp enough to knock the breath from him.
He knows. All this time, he's known. Still, he'd held out hope. Hope that Erik could resist his instincts, find a home in Charles' light and make a place for himself there. Hope that, when the time came, Charles himself would be enough to anchor Erik and keep him from leaping off a cliff he can never come back from.
He refuses to believe that his faith in Erik was misplaced.
"It doesn't have to end like this, Erik." Charles tries, taking careful steps through the carnage lying thick over asphalt. He knows he's pleading, begging, but he can't care about that now. His voice drops low, gentle in the hopes that it will permeate the cracks where only violence has dwelled for the past three decades. "There is always another way. Let me help you find it."
The laugh that falls from Erik's lips is strangled, nearly unhinged. He stands in the center of the empty street, rubble and debris scattered around his feet, unshed tears in his eyes. There is no one else there to bear witness to the confrontation (Charles' doing. He's intelligent enough to know no one else needs to be around for this), but Erik fights to remain stoic nonetheless.
"There is no other way, Charles!" he growls. "Shaw is a monster. He deserves to die for what he's done."
He's not wrong, Charles thinks. Sebastian Shaw is the epitome of evil, the newest incarnation of the Devil himself. If anyone on Earth has ever been deserving of death, it's the man kneeling before Erik now, blood running down the terrified planes of his face as his eyes plead with Charles for mercy.
"I don't disagree, my friend."
Erik freezes mid-step, swinging his gaze around to stare at Charles in shock. Shaw tries to take advantage of Erik's distraction by attempting to fight to his feet. Before Erik can stop him, Charles presses two fingers to his temple and holds Shaw in place.
If he chooses the most painful method to subdue Shaw, that's his business. He doesn't feel a lick of sympathy when the man clutches at his head and sobs his anguish, eyes clenched shut against it.
Erik's confusion ripples off him in bursts, knocking into Charles like waves against a jagged shore. He's considering Charles with intensity, something awed and glinting slithering in his eyes.
"Shaw is a monster," Charles reiterates, meeting Erik's stare. "His victims deserve retribution, of that I have no doubt. But you cannot be the one to deliver that to them, Erik."
Erik is silent. Or, rather, his mouth is. His mind, on the other hand, is a cacophony of jumbled noise. There's confusion there, tangled with something that feels an awful lot like hope. Charles is even more convinced he is doing the right thing, consequences be damned.
"This is a line you cannot uncross, Erik." Charles inches closer, eyes steady on Erik's as he approaches. His voice is clear and patient, despite the erratic pound of his heart against his ribs. "If you do this, there is no coming back. You are much too close to the edge to ever recover from such a horrendous act."
"Charles…"
He feels himself smile, just a delicate twitch of one corner of his mouth.
"I will not lose you to a monster, Erik." Charles whispers. He's less than a foot from them both now, the distance fading into nothing when he reaches one shaking hand out for Erik to take. "Do not, for one moment, think I can survive it."
"We can't let him go, Charles. He'll just keep doing what he's always done." Erik's gaze is haunted, his mother's face swimming through his mind. "Can you live with that?"
"No," he instantly admits, shaking his head. "I could not live another moment knowing he was out there, ruining others the way he tried to ruin you."
"But-"
Charles closes the remaining distance between them, cutting him off with the press of his lips. It's a chaste kiss compared to the ones they've shared before, but this one holds so much more than all the previous ones combined. It's no less desperate for its lack of tongue, and Charles hopes Erik understands what he has to do. When Charles pulls back there is moisture pooling along his lash line, tears of mourning for something he never thought he'd lose.
"Please," he murmurs, one hand lifting to cup the hard angle of Erik's jaw, "Don't think less of me."
Erik doesn't get the chance to ask what he means, much less to protest. There's no time for him to act before Shaw lets out a tortured scream, his cry ricocheting through the air, through Erik's chest, before it abruptly falls silent and the only sound that remains is Charles' gentle sobs.
The mansion is empty. Erik made sure of it before going to Charles' room, sweeping through the house with his powers to assure himself the others followed his orders. He's relieved to not feel the metal of Raven's necklace anywhere nearby. She'd put up the most fight when he asked them all to leave, citing Charles' need of her as the reason she refused. He's glad Hank managed to convince her otherwise.
As he pauses outside of the door to Charles' quarters (more theirs than anything, at this point), Erik sucks in a deep breath. It does little to settle the pain and guilt lingering in his gut.
"You are not nearly as stealthy as you imagine yourself to be, Erik."
He rolls his eyes as Charles' words carry through the heavy oak door. With a tight huff of breath, Erik pushes it open and steps inside, a tea tray balanced carefully in one hand.
He feels Charles' eyes on him the moment he crosses the threshold. There's a weight to Charles' gaze that Erik knows by heart, could pick out of a crowd with ease. It follows him as he moves across the room and settles the tray on a table beside the chair Charles' occupies.
"I thought you might like something to…" He struggles to find the right word. "Something to help you sleep." he settles for.
Charles' snort isn't derisive, but it still grates on Erik's nerves like sandpaper.
"I am way ahead of you, love." he says, brandishing a glass of amber liquid in Erik's direction.
With a sigh, Erik settles into a chair. Though there's nothing more between them than the chess table they frequent, it feels like an entire ocean sits there. Never in his life has Erik felt so off-kilter, so at a loss than he does now. He searches Charles' face for something, anything that will tell him how he's supposed to handle what's happened, but he finds no answers there.
"Honestly, Erik." Charles chides mildly. "I'm alright."
"Bullshit," he replies, no venom in the word. "You just killed someone, Charles. I would be worried if you were alright."
Charles' eyes flicker with something Erik knows all too well. It makes his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.
"It's not as though he didn't deserve it," he reasons. "You said so yourself."
"It's true that Shaw deserved what happened today, Charles." Erik agrees. "You, however, did not."
Charles' eyes snap to his, wide but shuttered. "I've no idea what you mean."
"Don't," Erik bites out, teeth gritting. "Don't fucking do that, Charles. Not with me."
Charles blushes and looks away, the pink in his cheeks obvious even in the dim firelight. Erik isn't sure if it's in anger or embarrassment, but he doesn't really care. Not now.
"Why?" he finally asks, desperate to know the answer despite how terrified he is that he already does.
"You already know why," Charles says, eyes meeting Erik's once more.
Guilt sits like a bowling ball on Erik's chest, making it hard to breathe. "You shouldn't have done this, Charles. I didn't ask for this."
"Too bloody bad!"
Erik startles at the vehemence in Charles' response.
Sighing, Charles leans forward to set his drink on the table between them. His hands card through his hair, a sign of frustration Erik recognizes easily.
"You would never have asked this of me, Erik." he begins, expression earnest. "Which is precisely why I had to do it."
"I don't understand," Erik admits.
"Of course not." Charles grins halfheartedly. He rises from his chair to crouch beside Erik's, taking his hands in his own.
Erik shivers from the contact but doesn't move otherwise. He simply stares down into the bottomless blue depths of Charles' eyes and tries not to feel like the monster he knew Shaw to be.
"You've been through so much, my friend. No human being should be expected to bear the hell you've lived. But you… You've survived everything the world has thrown at you."
"Not without cost."
"No," Charles allows. "The price has been quite high. And yet, there is still so much more inside of you, Erik." Erik scoffs but Charles ignores him. "I have never lied to you, love, and I do not intend to begin doing so now. There is still goodness inside of you, a light that I could not bear to see extinguished. I, however, seem to have lots of light left to go around."
"Is that honestly what you believe?" Erik demands, rising to his feet and ripping his hand from Charles' grasp. "You think that I wanted you to sacrifice what makes you who you are, just to save something you imagine you see inside me?"
Charles stands too, but doesn't attempt to stop Erik pacing away from him.
"Jesus, Charles! Why? Why would you do something so stupid?"
Steel fills Charles' eyes, hard and unwavering. "Because killing Shaw means that I get to keep you, you impossible bastard! How can you not understand that?"
A miserable sound fills Erik's throat, but Charles barrels on.
"If I'd let you kill Shaw today, I would have lost you forever. There would have been no coming back from that, Erik, not for us."
"Oh, but there is if you're a murderer?" Erik's voice is rising, nearly shouting.
"Yes!" Charles exclaims impatiently. "What I did to Shaw… It won't shatter me the way it would have you. I had a choice, Erik—I let you kill him and lost the love of my life, or I killed him myself and dealt with the fallout later."
He moves then, surging forward to fist hands in the front of Erik's turtleneck. Erik's jaw is tight, teeth clenched painfully, but he doesn't shake the hands off.
"I chose you, Erik." Charles tells him, words laced through with so much affection it makes Erik's bones ache. "I will always. Choose. You."
There's silence lingering in the air between them, heavier than the weight of Charles' declaration. Erik wants to argue, wants to deny the truth in that claim more than he should, but Charles' gaze won't allow it. There's too much conviction in it, and Erik feels his resistance slip away like water through a sieve.
"Love of your life?"
Charles' eyes crinkle at the corners, his smile enough to knock Erik free of the spiral of guilt consuming him.
"Indeed," Charles breathes, his fists loosening enough that he can run open palms up Erik's chest and curl them around either side of his neck. His thumbs are a delicate caress as they sweep over the edge of Erik's jaw, sweetly sincere. "I would do it over, Erik. A thousand times, I would kill Shaw if it meant I was allowed to keep you… To keep us."
Erik doesn't think before he lunges forward, dipping down to fuse his mouth to Charles' with a desperation that surprises them both. His hands bury themselves in the silken waves of Charles' hair, dragging him closer, blurring the lines between where one begins and the other ends.
Charles melts into the kiss, holds Erik by the hips and hangs on for all he's worth. Erik's skin erupts in flames beneath the graze of Charles' fingers on his flesh, hands slipping under the fabric of Erik's shirt.
"Charles," he growls, heart skipping a beat when he feels fingertips dance up the naked line of his spine. "Fuck."
"Well, it's a bit crude, but I can't say I disagree."
Erik retreats, just enough that he can look down into laughing eyes. The sight rocks him, makes something inside him shift and crumble. He moves, walks them back toward the bed without letting go of the live-wire in his arms.
"Do you have any idea how much I adore you?" he asks, voice gritty with emotions he never thought he'd feel. "How desperate I am to be inside you? Do you have any idea, Charles?"
They've reached the bed and Charles falls back without hesitation, trusting Erik to follow him down. When Erik climbs over him, covering his body with his own, Charles grins up at Erik and the world tilts.
"Oh, I believe I do, my love." Charles murmurs, tracing enticing little swirls in the small of Erik's back. "Though, I can't say I would mind a demonstration."
The laugh that bursts from Erik's chest isn't like the one from earlier. This one is light and genuine, pleasure pouring through his veins like warm molasses.
"I'd be happy to oblige you, liebling." Erik whispers it into the thin skin covering Charles' throat, lips rasping over skin in a way that makes Charles mewl beneath him. "But I need to hear you say it again."
Warmth pools in Charles' eyes, making them sparkle. "I love you, Erik." he says, every word sinking into Erik's marrow, filling in the empty spaces left behind by a brutal life. "I will love you until my very last breath. Probably even then."
Something snaps inside him and Erik can't hold himself back anymore. He kisses Charles like a drowning man gasping for breath. Just like the day they met, Charles drags him to surface with his touch, saves Erik from certain death by pouring everything he has into it.
As much as he'd like to take his time, Erik can't seem to stop the way his hands tear through Charles' clothes. His shirt goes first, buttons scattering to the farthest corners of the room. Charles' slacks follow and, before Erik knows it, Charles is spread out below him, naked and panting.
"I was quite fond of that shirt," he pouts, plush red lips pursed.
"I'll buy you another."
Charles' laughter rings in Erik's head like wind chimes, beautifully melodic. He leaves a scorched path from the dip of Charles' throat to the cut of his hip and back, searing his love into flesh like a brand. Charles writhes under him, clutches at Erik's clothes in a frenzied need to reach skin. Nails rake down his back, leaving reddened welts in their wake.
"Off," he demands, shoving at the waist of Erik's jeans, trying to push them down. "Take these blasted pants off."
Erik is quick to comply. He's stripped bare, in more ways than ever before, when he settles back over Charles. His narrow hips fit like a dream in the cradle of Charles' thighs. Those thighs wrap immediately around him, pulling him closer even as Charles rocks up to meet him.
A low whine pulls at Erik's heart, tumbling from Charles' lips like the holiest of oaths. It wraps around him, desperately urges him to hurry.
"Suck," Erik orders, slipping two fingers into Charles' mouth the second he opens up to permit them.
Charles moans around the intrusion, tongue eagerly working at the digits. The sound that rips out of him when those same digits press firmly at his hole is almost inhuman. He spreads his legs wider, making room for Erik to work.
One seeking finger easily turns into two, the pair of them moving in tandem to make sighs and gasps spill out of Charles in the most delicious way. They find the spot nestled in deep, surrounded by slick warmth, and Charles cries out, Erik's name piercing the quiet room.
"Please," Charles whimpers, tugging sharply at Erik's hair. "I don't want to come until you're inside me."
There's a steady growl building deep in Erik's chest as he shifts, using his power to call out for the small metal container of lube tucked away in the nightstand. He uses it to quickly slick his cock and Charles' entrance, then tosses it aside.
When he lines up and sinks in, they both groan. It's a tight fit, but Charles' body knows just what to do to let Erik in. His body opens, welcomes Erik inside like he was never gone.
"Fuck, Charles."
"God, yes." Charles shudders, the movement making his rim clench around Erik's cock like a vise.
Erik hisses as his entire body floods with heat. It courses through him, chaos contained only by the cage Charles' body creates around him.
"This isn't going to last long, schatz." he apologizes, much to Charles' apparent consternation.
Charles thrusts his hips up, taking as much of Erik's length as he can. "I don't care, Erik." he nearly snarls, his face flushed red and his mouth set hard. "I don't care how quickly it's over, I just need you to fuck me."
It's really all the prompting Erik needs. He starts to move.
Their bodies crash together, igniting everything around them like a spark to tinder. Erik pounds into Charles, hips snapping in sharp thrusts that push obscene keens out of him with their impact. Charles clutches at his shoulders, his ass, his back—anywhere he can find purchase to anchor himself through the onslaught of Erik's storm.
Even without the aid of his own hand, it doesn't take long for Charles to come, spilling between their bellies with a sound like he's dying, but somehow enjoying it immensely. He doesn't go limp under Erik, though. If anything, he holds on that much tighter, heels digging into the rounds of Erik's ass as he fucks into him, chasing his own release.
"Come for me, love." Charles murmurs, mouth hot and wet at the shell of Erik's ear. He nips at the lobe before moving down the column of Erik's throat, leaving shadowed bruises along the way. "Show me how much you love me."
Barely a moment later, Erik's orgasm tears its way through him. The intensity of it makes his eyes prick with heat, a fact he tries to hide by tucking his face into the curve of Charles' shoulder. If Charles notices, he doesn't comment. Instead, he strokes a lazy hand down Erik's back, his touch soothing and maddening all at once.
Erik doesn't bother rolling off, knowing how Charles likes to feel his weight above him after they've made love. Charles hums contentedly at his human blanket, shivering slightly when Erik slides out of him.
They stay like that for a long while, long enough that Erik's eyes start drifting closed. He shifts his weight a little lower, so that he can rest his head on the softness of Charles' stomach.
"It's going to get harder, you know."
"Hmm?"
Erik sighs, turns his head so his lips brush Charles' skin when he answers. "What happened today," he explains. "You might be numb to it now, but eventually it's going to catch up with you."
Charles doesn't say anything for a beat. When he does finally respond, he threads his fingers through Erik's hair and asks quietly, "Will you be here when it does?"
"Of course I will." Erik tells him, his chin resting on Charles' stomach so he can look up and meet his gaze. "I'm not going anywhere, Charles. That much I can promise you."
Charles' smile is worth everything they've been through, everything they still have to face. He shrugs, the pad of his thumb tracing the fullness of Erik's bottom lip.
"Then I'll be alright," he says, voice filled with nothing but pure emotion. "As long as you're with me, Erik, I'll always be just fine."