"You miss him, don't you?"
Erik's voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. It more than stood out in the silence of the room, though, as if he had yelled it at the top of his lungs.
Blinking in surprise, Mystique attempted to untangle the sheets that had gotten tightly wrapped around her over the last rather energetic hour or so. All she managed to do was make it even worse, so with a frustrated growl, she focused her mind on what she had looked like as a child. If she was that small, surely she'd be able to slip out of a few tangled sheets.
On the other side of the bed, Erik laughed. "Whatever you're planning, just wait a moment."
Mystique let the image in her mind drop immediately, and a moment later Erik had leaned over from his side of the bed and was carefully freeing her from the sheets. Once he was done, he pressed a quick kiss on the side of her mouth before moving back over to his side of the bed.
"Thank you," she said, shooting him a fond smile mixed with just a hint of exasperation. She could never figure out how she always ended up tangled in the sheets every time they had sex, while he usually ended up on top of them. The view was nice, but it was starting to get a bit old.
"You're more than welcome," Erik said, bowing slightly. Or, at least, giving her as much of a bow as was possible considering he was half-sitting in a bed.
She kept smiling. Then her mind flashed back to what he had said a moment ago, and it immediately dropped.
He tilted his head, but didn't press.
"What did you mean, 'I miss him'?" Mystique asked. "Miss who?"
Erik smiled at her, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. "Charles."
It was an unspoken rule that they didn't mention him. They both had their reasons, private and held close to their hearts, and over the last few years they had been careful never to bring him up unless there was no other choice.
This was not one of those times where there no other choice.
Mystique stiffened. Erik did as well, that forced smile still on his face but his eyes wary.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said stiffly, quickly turning away from him. She didn't want him to see the light sheen of tears that she could feel building in her eyes.
He reached out and touched her shoulder. "Mystique."
"Don't touch me," she said. His hand drew back immediately, without hesitation. "I'm sorry. Just—don't. Not right now."
Without turning back toward him, she scooted over as far to her side of the bed as possible and lay down. The sheets in the middle of the bed were still damp from earlier, and it formed as good of a barrier as any.
There was a long pause. Then she heard Erik sigh, and there was movement on his side of the bed. The room suddenly went dark; he must have turned off the bedside lamp.
"Goodnight," Erik said softly.
Mystique didn't say anything. She did, however, shift an inch or so closer to him. Not enough to touch, but enough to get a message across.
Then she forced herself to relax. Her body was still tingling from earlier, a reminder that—despite anything that might have happened afterward—for a little while Erik had made absolutely certain that she was the focus on his attention, even over his own needs.
She smiled, if only a little.
Just before she drifted off to sleep, Charles's face flashed in her mind. She didn't have the words to describe how she felt, not really, so she simply let her feelings flow out of her to the world in general.
I miss you. He misses you. It's not the same without you. I love you. I think he might love you. I think he might love me. I think I'm starting to love him. Why did things have to change?
Charles.
Mystique opened her eyes and frowned. "This isn't my bed."
"No, it's not."
The voice directly beside her was achingly familiar. A flood of emotions ran through her: surprise, happiness, anger, confusion.
She decided to go with anger.
Mystique sat straight up, the silk sheets pooling in her lap. Her pale, creamy flesh-colored lap. She turned, not even trying to hide how she felt.
Charles flinched the moment he saw her face and quickly stood up from where he'd been sitting at the edge of the bed.
"We're in my head, aren't we?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm. She didn't really succeed very well, but she tried.
He gave her a hesitant smile. "What gave it away?" he asked, gesturing down at his legs.
Mystique ignored his obvious attempt to draw her attention to the fact that he was walking and instead held up her normal, human-looking right hand. "I don't look like me."
Charles blinked. "Of course you do."
"No, I don't."
She closed her eyes and tried to focus on her powers, tried to shift like she had a million times before. Nothing happened. This wasn't real, not really, it was something like a dream, and you couldn't always control what happened in dreams.
"Raven, I don't—"
"Mystique," she said, cutting in sharply. "Raven was a scared little girl who hid who she was. I'm Mystique. And you're trying to turn me into Raven again, so stop it!"
Charles's eyes shuttered instantly, and he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he stared at her for a moment before nodding.
She looked down at her hand. The blue contrasted starkly against the pure white sheets.
"If you want me to go, I will."
For a moment, Mystique was tempted to tell him to do just that. To go away and leave her be, like he had for the last three years.
"You miss him, don't you?"
Erik's voice echoed in her mind. In front of her, Charles's face had gone surprisingly blank and she knew, she just knew, he'd managed to pull that from her head. She had gotten out of practice of keeping some of her thoughts to herself. Or maybe it didn't work here, when they were already in her own head.
"I'll go," Charles said. "I'm sorry, I thought—it doesn't matter what I thought. I'll go."
She sighed. Then, before she could change her mind, she told him "Don't you dare."
Charles's face lit up. Mystique had to quickly hide a smile; for a telepath, it still sometimes surprised her just how much of an open book his face was.
Mystique pulled her legs up in front of her and hugged them, more for comfort than an attempt at modesty. Then she reached over and patted the spot beside her on the bed.
After only a second's hesitation, Charles sat down beside her.
"I'm not sure how I should take the fact that I'm naked and you're fully clothed," she said, raising an eyebrow.
Spots of color appeared high on Charles's cheeks, and he closed his eyes for a second. Mystique looked down to find herself wearing a light blue nightgown that hid a surprisingly amount of skin.
"Not quite the reaction I was hoping for," she said lightly.
If anything, Charles's blush grew even more noticeable.
She couldn't help it. She threw her head back and laughed at his discomfort. After a moment, he joined in.
It felt almost like old times. Almost.
"Why are you here, Charles?" Mystique asked quietly. "After all this time?"
He hesitated, not quite meeting her gaze. Then he sighed. "I heard you."
"Heard me?" Frowning, she tried to figure out what he meant. Then she remembered her thoughts just as she went to bed, the things that she couldn't quite put into words. That she'd poured her emotions into, good and bad and everything in between. "Oh. Oh."
"Yes, oh."
She'd missed that particular sarcastic tone. God knew, it had made her want to punch him more than once over the years, but she had missed it.
For just a second, Raven was back, a scared little girl who desperately missed the only family she'd had for most of her life. Before she could change her mind, she threw herself at Charles and wrapped him in a tight hug.
The part of her that was Mystique was amused that he jerked back, as if he'd expected her to punch him rather than hug him. The part of her that was Raven didn't even notice, at least not after he started hugging her back.
"He misses you too, you know," she whispered. "He would love one of these visits from you."
Charles didn't even pretend not to know exactly who she was talking about. "I'm not so sure that he would appreciate—"
"He would," she cut in. "Believe me, he would."
She pulled away, Raven slowly fading away as she felt herself becoming wholly Mystique again.
Charles gave her a sad smile. "I know that the two of you are together."
Mystique tilted her head. "Yes?"
"It's complicated, Erik and my—well, it's complicated." Charles shrugged, trying to smile at her and failing miserable. "Not to mention in the past. You're his present."
She stared at him for a few seconds. Then she threw her head back and laughed. "It will never cease to amaze me how much of an idiot you are for someone so smart."
Charles stared at her blankly.
Her reply was to lean in and kiss him on the corner of the mouth. It was innocent and chaste, something she had done a million times before. And then, just like that, it wasn't.
To his credit, Charles got over his shock fairly quickly. It only took him a few seconds to start kissing her back.
After what felt like years, but was probably only a minute or two, Mystique pulled away. Charles stared at her, his lips swollen and only a little confusion in his eyes.
"You're going to owe Erik a visit all on his own," she told him lightly. "But after that? Why not just visit both of us as once."
He shot her a look that she couldn't quite read. "Are you certain?"
Mystique shot him an incredulous look. "Charles, do you really think I'd say something if I wasn't certain."
Charles smiled, and for once it reached his eyes. "No, you wouldn't. Would you, Ra—Mystique?"
"Not perfect, but better," she told him. Then she leaned in for another kiss.
Mystique cried out as a wave of pleasure coursed through her.
There was a bright flash of light, and the world around her melted away. She had to close her eyes, the light was too bright. The last thing she saw was Charles's face as he watched her, a pleased look in his eyes.
When she opened them again, she was in her own dimly lit room. There was a hint of light coming in from under the door, a hallway light that was still on, but other than that it was dark.
Mystique lay there for a moment, her breath coming in shuddering gasps. When she finally had the energy to move her head, she turned it to the side just enough to see Erik. He had propped himself up on one arm and was staring at her with a fond look on his face. He had apparently turned on the bedside lamp in the past few minutes without her noticing, because she could see him much more clearly than she had expected.
"It sounds like someone had a nice dream," he said teasingly.
She shook her head. "Not a dream," she said, both amused and slightly embarrassed about how breathless she sounded.
Erik raised an eyebrow.
Mystique pushed herself up on one arm and leaned in to kiss him. "You miss him, don't you?" she asked as she pulled away, mirroring his earlier question to her.
He froze, realization flooding his face.
She laughed, pressing another kiss against his lips before pulling away. "You should try to get back to sleep," she told him teasingly. "I have a feeling you might have a pleasant night if you do."
Erik kept staring at her.
Rolling her eyes, Mystique reached over and all but shoved him back down onto the bed. He didn't resist.
And she wasn't surprised at all when, an hour or so later, she was woken up by Erik jerking away with Charles's name on his lips.
"Next time, he better invite us both," she whispered, curling up beside Erik in the middle of their bed. Their earlier disagreement was long forgotten, and he was a warm, steady presence at her side.
Erik let out a huff of laughter. "You're going to be the death of me."
Mystique pressed a kiss against his chest, but she didn't argue.