A Tale of Bland Tea and Tasteful Company
Summary: In which Charles tolerates the world's most disgusting drink in favor of catching a glimpse of a tantalizing stranger at a cafe.
Warnings:Some swear words, a slight OOC Charles, and an enormous amount of fluff. Cherik.
A/N: Oh look. I'm back. And I bring with me another finished Cherik one-shot. This pairing does things to my brain. XD Seriously.
This is dedicated to everyone who favorited and enjoyed 'Ignorance is Bliss'. Because, without you, I don't think I would have had the guts to post this.
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For the fifth time in as many weeks, Charles found himself sipping bland tea outside an even blander cafe at far too early in the morning. The liquid slipped down his throat like muddy water, which caused him to grimace, but he did not dare set the mug down. Inconspicuous, he reminded himself. This was all about being as inconspicuous as possible. Not drinking bland tea as if it were the finest Earl Grey in the world would be a sin at this stage in his plan.
Not that he really had a plan. This was more of a spur of the moment set of events that honestly he should just have given up on at the get go. But no. Charles had to listen to that stubborn, completely idiotic part of himself whenever that man was involved. Which was why he would continue to drink that swill for the next month if need be.
He seriously hoped he'd come to his senses by that point. This drink was absolutely disgusting.
Setting the mug down casually, he leaned back in his seat with a newspaper folded out over his legs. He barely noticed something about a political scandal detailed on the front page before his eyes flicked up over the black letters to study something far more interesting. Someone actually. Someone dressed in a killer turtleneck and leather jacket sitting across the cafe patio sipping coffee.
Charles felt his heart begin to tug at the inside of his chest.
Damn. Every single time. Charles at one point hoped that the fluttering feeling he obtained whenever the man was around was just a fluke. A one day event caused by stress at work, or a fleeting spark that would vanish within a day. No, he couldn't be that lucky. Charles knew at this point he was positively smitten with the stranger, or at least had developed a highly improbable, highly unhealthy obsession over him. He sort of hoped it was the former. Stalking seemed much less creepy when silly crushes were involved.
When he tried to rationalize the way the other man made him feel, Charles came up blank. There had been no memorable interactions between them, not even solid eye contact like in the romance movies Raven adored where love sparks almost violently between a pair of strangers. Charles had simply spotted him sitting at the cafe one morning on his way to work and had stopped dead in his tracks. No words spoken between them. No past history. Charles didn't even know his name.
And yet here he was, for the fifth time since that first encounter, awkwardly staring over a newspaper at someone simply enjoying breakfast. A rather drab breakfast from his point of view, but nothing more spectacular than that. He must have gone mad, that was the only explanation.
The worst part of all this had to be how Charles couldn't quite recall when he decided men were attractive in his mind. Women, now there was a subject he knew quite a bit about. A subtle yet clever pick-up line here, an offer to buy a drink there. More often than not he found his bed not lacking for company on Saturday nights. Women were easy. Men, well, that would be a completely different story. Charles found that most men reacted less than positive to advances from their common sex.
This offered a proper challenge to him then. How did one go about vying for the attention of another male? Probably a proper conversation to begin with. He needed to get off his bizarrely shy ass and go introduce himself. They had to become friends, or something close to that. He had to get into his head as the expression goes, discover just what this man was interested in and then strike. No. Not strike. He wasn't some bird of prey. Make a move. Yes. Much better. Then he'd make his move.
Wait, what?
"I think this tea is starting to make me crazy," he muttered to himself, glancing down into the frothy brown liquid. He could have sworn it wiggled back at him. "Yes, I do believe I've had enough of it for one day."
He pushed the mug as far across the table from himself as he could before settling back down to continue his spying. Spying. If Raven ever found out she'd have a field day. Hell, half of his acquaintances at work would as well. The thought of Hank's face at learning the truth about his boss's bad habit would almost be worth it. Almost.
A glance at his watch told Charles it was half past seven. The enigmatic stranger would be leaving shortly, taking the bus across the street to who knows where. Charles hadn't quite been able to bring himself to catch a ride to find out. Something about that idea quite clearly screamed crossing the line. Vaguely he recalled that that particular line went beyond the city limits, but that was as far as he knew. Maybe the man worked in one of the many factories out that way.
Sure enough, the stranger checked his own watch, a rather expensive looking skeleton timepiece made of brass, and placed his payment on the table as he stood up. Charles slipped a little farther down in his seat self consciously, once more doing his best to be invisible. Stupid, he told himself. He doesn't even know you exist. You could be a damned chihuahua for all he knows, or an empty chair. Stop acting like a love-struck girl.
Then quite unexpectedly something happened that changed all of that. For just then, as Charles willed himself to become one with the stiff metal chair, the stranger looked his way and nodded. A fair, polite nod, before heading across the street where his bus waited.
And in that moment Charles swore his heart actually stopped.
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For the sixth time in as many weeks, Charles found himself sipping bland tea outside an even blander cafe at far too early in the morning. Although this time, unlike its previous predecessors, Charles was quite content to let the muddy water pour down his throat. For this time he knew without a doubt that he and the mysterious stranger had made a connection, and by god if that wasn't something to feel good about.
Sure, to most normal, rational folk, a simple nod would mean nothing. Nods happened far too frequently to make a big fuss about. But this nod, no. No this nod meant something. It had to. Maybe that was the proverbial spark the romantics always went on about, for up until that moment Charles only felt a flutter seeing the man, and now he was sure a full force gale was going on in his chest, ripping about as it deemed fit. Charles was left thoroughly winded.
Alright, so maybe it hadn't meant anything, but it did leave Charles with a rather big opening. Now that the stranger had shown his hand, he now had an excuse to go introduce himself.
Taking a deep breath, he sat his paper down, took one last gulp of disgusting tea, and made his way over as casually as he possibly could. Several dozen distressing thoughts crossed his mind, the most frequent being that the stranger sat alone for a reason, and that by going over he'd just piss him off. His foot hesitated for just a split second.
What if he's just quiet? Go on, Charles. So what if he asks to be left alone? Maybe it'll make you come to your senses about this whole affair.
"Er, hello there. I can't help but notice we both come here quite frequently." How Charles managed to say all that with his usual charming smile and not a single stutter was beyond him. "I'm Charles Xavier, may I sit with you?"
The man looked up with a hard to read expression, but motioned to the empty chair across from him none the less. Charles sat in it, thankful for a place to rest before his legs gave out, and turned his smile up from charming to absolutely dashing. The stranger simply went back to his coffee. Right. Man.
"I work two buildings over, you know, the one with the horribly unsightly metal 'x' out front?" he started out conversationally. "This place is close enough for a morning pick me up." Lies. The only thing this place picked up were negative health inspection tests.
There was a very vivid pause in which Charles wondered if the man was about to tell him not so politely to fuck off before-
"It does the job all right."
The voice certainly fit the bill. A tad bit rough, yet also casually polite. Charles had to approve.
"I have to disagree with your choice of caffeine though. Coffee is such a dull drink. Little to no nutritional value and so ungodly bitter. How do you bare it?" Charles leaned back in the chair, smile still lingering on his lips to show he was teasing. Something told him the man wouldn't mind. He had to thank that part of him when the man snorted and, as if to prove a point, took another long sip of the black liquid.
"Its too early to fight with a Brit over such important issues," came the reply, and Charles suddenly found himself facing an outstretched hand. "Erik Lensherr."
Charles shook it, feeling almost giddy. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, and if you must know, I'm American. Schooled quite heavily across the pond, but a yank all the way."
Every Friday after that Charles would sit across from Erik and they would chat before going about their normal lives. He soon learned that Erik was German, that he worked in a factory specializing in metal I beams for construction companies, that he had two pet cats named Pietro and Wanda that drove him mad, and, most importantly, that he was single. There was still no headway in the sexuality slot, but Charles could live with that. Just sitting and chatting with Erik was enough for now.
Erik was certainly a man after his own heart. He loved chess, history -mostly pertaining to WWII which Charles respected-, could jump headfirst into a passionate political debate with a calm attitude and yet still never give an inch, plus he seemed rather fond of books. Charles resisted telling the man about his large private collection back home, just to have something to brag about later.
He had fallen utterly at this point.
The biggest challenge to his new found friendship came a month after the first, actual, interaction between the two. Charles' sister had been visiting for the week when he accidentally mentioned going to a certain cafe Friday mornings, and she insisted on coming along. Something in his eyes, she said, told her something besides bagels and scones was going on here.
Damn her perceptiveness.
Now, Raven under good circumstances was a polite, if not slightly rough around the edges, young lady. She was smart, witty, and someone Charles enjoyed having in his life. Except. Well. Except when it came to any sort of love interests he may have at the time.
The first time Raven destroyed one of his (possible) relationships came when they were still in grade school. Charles had been ten years old and still susceptible to peer pressure. There had been a cute girl in his class who's name now escaped him, and three of his buddies insisted he hand her a flower to show her how much he liked her. Enter Raven, clearly upset her older brother was giving more attention to some silly red head than her, and proudly proclaimed one morning to the entire school yard how he still slept with a teddy bear.
The girl couldn't look at him without giggling from then on.
The second time came much later in their lives, just after Charles graduated. Having not had the time for a proper girlfriend thanks to intense studying to get into his first choice school, the first time a pretty girl looked his way he was smitten. All blonde curls and a riveting smile. They hit it off quite well, going on several dates before Charles decided to introduce her to his younger sister. Raven wasted no time in informing Charles that the girl in question was just after his money. Yes, it was true, but Charles hadn't even made it to second base and was understandably a bit peeved.
The third and final time Charles thought he had a proper chance with a girl had been Moira. She had been just as smart and clever as he was and didn't fit in to any sort of stereotypical slot most other girls did. At one point he even thought of proposing. After a very reluctant family dinner, Moira informed his she couldn't quite deal with him having such a close relationship to his sister and left without further explanation.
Charles didn't speak to Raven for months after that one.
Oddly enough, she never stepped in for one-night stands. Just full blown dating. Which was why if she learned his true intentions concerning Erik...He was doomed.
That was why, on the tenth morning of sipping bland tea at an even blander cafe at far too early in the morning, he sat rather nervously as Raven meticulously studied an oblivious Erik. There was no way this was going to end well. Why did he agree to let her come? Erik didn't even know Charles liked him yet and Raven was about to say something perfectly crafted to drive him away. Fuck.
"So...Raven, was it?" Erik set his mug down and leaned his arms on the table. "Charles tells me you've been working as a waitress to save up for a trip to Europe. I find that quite admirable. Most young women your age are far too involved in looking for potential spouses or already caring for unwanted children to do something so life changing."
Well damn.
Raven shot the older man a little half smile. "Oh, why thank-you. I wouldn't say its really life changing though, just something I've wanted to do for a long time now. I lived with Charles for awhile when he was in school, but I never got to see much. You're from Germany, right?"
"Yes, and let me tell you, don't let any of the bad reputation it has scare you away."
Charles felt like he was watching a rather slow tennis watch, shifting his attention from Erik to Raven as they discussed in depth the merits of traveling the world. At some point the conversation changed to him, and while Raven teased him mercilessly as per usual, she shed away from anything too personally humiliating. Erik, as well, seemed quite content on staying on topic, mentioning with a smirk how Charles still insisted on drinking the pitiful excuse for tea the cafe served.
Charles was sure he resembled a tomato at that remark.
Oh.
Oh.
Erik knew.
Raven shot him a knowing look, excused herself, and stood up. She thanked Erik for his time, and as she strutted away, leaned in to whisper to her stunned brother's ear, "I approve."
Charles could only watch her go in utter silence. When did the world start conspiring in his favor instead of against it? He must have entered the Twilight Zone. There was little explanation.
"Same time next week?" Erik asked, and Charles nodded mutely, although he was highly aware of the giddy smile beginning to stretch across his face.
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For the thirtieth time in as many weeks, Charles found himself sipping bland tea outside an even blander cafe at far too early in the morning. The sun was hot, the sky promised rain, and the company was absolutely perfect.
"You know, you don't have to pretend to like that crap anymore," Erik said casually, shuffling his newspaper without looking up.
Charles chuckled, setting the mug down with a tap. "Yes, well bizarrely enough I think I've rather grown accustomed to the taste. Strange how things like that happen."
His companion laughed and set the paper aside, turning those stunning blue eyes with rapt attention to Charles. "Did you ever once think to maybe order a doughnut or scone?"
Shaking his head, he reached out to grasp Erik's hand and squeezed it tightly. "Well, my friend, you see my mind at the time was sort of focused on something a bit more tasteful than the menu to pay too much attention to what I was ordering. I just said my usual. How was I to know what I was getting myself into?
"I, personally, am glad for that. I don't think I would have been that much interesting if it turned out the tea here was fabulous."
Charles laughed heartedly, and Erik leaned across the table to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Bland tea be damned, this had to be the best cafe on the planet, and no one would ever be able to convince Charles otherwise.
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Thanks for reading! :)