Erik had been less than pleased when Emma had accepted Miss Xavier's invitation to call again on Thursday. Not because he disliked her or her brother, far from it. He was not sure he could trust himself around Charles. He had come to terms with the fact that he enjoyed male company years ago. Emma knew – how could she not, with her gift – and it did not bother her. Privately, Erik thought she rather liked the idea. But this didn't change the fact that getting too close to Charles Xavier could cause extensive problems for all of them, and scandal was something he hoped to avoid. Although a small part of him relished the idea of Charles dropping everything to be with him; leaving behind his fiancé, his sister, his world, just to be by Erik's side. The practical part of him knew this was ridiculous.
When they arrived at the Xavier house, Charles and Raven once more greeted them with brilliant and genuine smiles, and Erik wanted even less to tarnish their apparently happy home. After a brief exchanging of pleasantries, Raven and Emma marched purposefully to the drawing room, having an intense discussion about types of stitch, leaving Charles and Erik standing far apart, in the hallway. Erik was very aware of the space between them, the empty air filled with nothing but the sound of their breathing. He cast back through their past conversations to come up with something, anything, to break their silence.
"I believe, last time we visited, you mentioned we might take the horses out?"
Erik was perfectly at ease on horseback. Horses, or indeed most any animal, were easier to deal with than people. An animal did not judge you – not your appearance, wealth, sexual preference, political stance, nothing – unless you forgot to feed it, that is. And they didn't talk, which Erik saw as a definite bonus. Charles had given him his father's horse to ride; the large back hunter he'd shown him last weekend. They were getting along rather well, the horse knew what he wanted from Erik and Erik knew what he wanted from the horse. He could feel the metal bit in the horse's mouth, the buckles holding leather in place, the stirrups as they took his weight.
"Good God Erik, I've never seen anyone sit so straight on a horse before." Charles called to him. "It's supposed to be enjoyable."
Erik said nothing, but rolled his eyes and urged the horse faster, attempting to edge in front of Charles. There was no hope, of course. It turned out that Charles' own horse was lame, so he had borrowed Raven's instead, insisting it would be fine as long as she never found out. She was possessive when it came to her horse, apparently. The bay mare, Mystique, was fine and leggy; a little highly strung, and alas much faster than Erik's mount for the day. Once more, he found himself facing Charles' back as he cantered ahead.
They were still close by the house, on Charles' land, all smooth grass and soft hills, broken up by the odd large oak or yew tree. Erik noticed Charles had slowed to a walk – much to the mare's displeasure – the gap between them had been getting ridiculous.
"I see you decided to join me," Charles grinned as Erik drew up beside him, his horse glad of the rest.
"Yes." Erik was a little annoyed the other had out-ridden him. "You ride like a maniac."
Charles just laughed. "I do not! It's all Mystique. Well, mainly. She can be a little..."
"Insane?"
"Spirited. Much like her mistress."
They walked the horses side by side a while in fairly comfortable silence, any awkwardness from earlier long gone. Erik couldn't help but let his eyes wander over Charles as he rode, taking in the set of his shoulders, the curve of his back; the way his hips moved back and forward with each stride the horse took. Erik's own horse stumbled, and his knee bumped Charles', jolting him out of his silence.
"Come on then."
Erik shook himself out of his trance, the hazy smell of horse, crushed grass, and Charles. "I'm sorry, what?"
"The horses are rested, and I challenge you to a rematch. First to the end of the field."
"But you'll win."
"That's hardly the right attitude, is it Erik. Come on." With that, Charles kicked the mare on, flecks of mud and grass flicking up behind them. Not about to be beaten again, Erik urged the hunter forward. Charles was just ahead of him, lining the mare up to jump a fallen log, which she did, easily. It occurred to Erik that Charles was no longer concerned with racing, as he had slowed Mystique a considerable amount, and was now concentrating on showing off. He kept the mare steady and controlled, clearing logs and ditches as easily as if man and horse were sharing their thoughts. Belatedly, Erik realised he was not admiring Charles' horsemanship so much as the man himself.
In the end, they called it a draw as they slowed to a walk at the end of the field, and through a narrow gateway into woodland. The twisting muddy tracks through the trees required them to ride single file, and Erik gladly took his place behind Charles, content to stare at the back of his head and wonder what the hell he was getting himself into.
I placed all my trust at the foot of this hill Seal my heart and brake my pride
And now I am sure my heart can never be still
So collect your courage and collect your horse
And pray you never feel the same kind of remorse.
I've nowhere to stand and now nowhere to hide
Align my heart, my body, my mind
To face what I've done and do my time.
The wooded slope began to even out, and as they rounded the corner, Charles saw a familiar haunt of his childhood – the ruins of a house. A modest one; an old labourer's cottage from long ago, left to fall apart in secret. Of its four walls, only one remained whole – the back wall, complete with an indented, soot-stained arch where a fireplace once was. The other walls were there in part; crumbling and jagged, choked with glossy ivy. He and Raven used to play there together, if they could escape their parent's watchful eyes long enough to make the journey. He couldn't say now what the games they had played were. All he could recall was Raven laughing and breathless, and the promise of their adventures.
"Now why on earth," Erik dismounted and walked between the ruined walls, boots sinking in the mass of leaf mould and brambles, "have you brought me here, Charles?"
"I'm afraid I don't know." Charles answered honestly, leaving his horse with Erik's and following him into the broken building. "It used to be my favourite place. But I suppose, when you get older, you forget about places you want to go, things you want to do, and concern yourself only with things that need doing."
Erik laughed. "You clearly don't go in to town enough Charles. There's plenty of people doing whatever they please, everyone else be damned."
"That's not what I meant." Charles picked his way through the plant life to the back wall, and ran his fingers over the rough stone of the fire place.
"Then what did you mean?" Erik was right behind him. Charles could feel his breath on his neck, sense him standing so close, coiled and tense.
He turned around, ready to answer, but stopped abruptly as he found Erik's face too close to his own, their noses almost touching. He blinked, unsure what to say; mouth open although he couldn't find the words. Erik was looking at him hard, not angry, but calculating, the harsh lines of his face softened by indecision. He swallowed, and Charles saw a flutter of panic across his features. He was struck with the impulse to get rid of the hardness, the confusion; to be the one to make Erik smile, the real smile he'd caught glimpses of in his study.
"It means," Charles heard the crack in his voice and cursed himself for it, "that I shouldn't spend my time doing selfish things. Like this."
He kissed Erik.
It was the most daring thing he'd ever done, and he wasn't sure if that was exciting or depressing. The only person he'd kissed romantically was Moira, and they had been soft and chaste, a promise for the future. But this was hard and strong and now; his hands fisted in the front of Erik's jacket as their tongues met and teeth knocked. Charles felt hands on each side of his face as Erik ran his tongue along Charles' bottom lip, drew it into his mouth. He let himself be pushed back against the sandy stone, felt Erik pick open the top of his shirt. There was a hand on his shoulder, a thigh against his hip, and a mouth on his neck. Then a rush of pain just under his collar bone where Erik sucked at the skin. Charles gasped at the unexpected pleasure, and the sound broke whatever spell they had been under.
Erik jolted backwards, unsteady. Charles tensed his shoulders and pushed himself further into the wall, feeling sharp stone poke through his jacket and scrape at the back of his neck.
Neither moved, out of their comfort zone and completely unsure what to do next. Eventually, Charles' senses crawled back to him, and he did the only thing he could do: re-button his shirt collar and get back his horse. The mare shifted her weight nervously as he got back into the saddle. The creak of leather behind him told him Erik had done the same. He kicked the mare into a canter, her hoofbeats in time with the throbbing mark Erik had left on his chest.
He didn't know what to think; his thoughts were tangled and panicked, the only clear words running through his head were stupid stupid stupid stupid wonderful. He urged Raven's mare faster, hoping the speed and the air in his face would whip it all away. Erik was far behind him – his father's hunter wasn't as young as he used to be, and his thick legs not as quick as Mystique's. Puddles splashed up her legs and twigs whipped at his face as he turned her down a narrow lane. He should have seen it coming, really. He knew the horse well, and had laughed many a time as Raven pulled herself out of the ditches and hedges Mystique had thrown her in to. Unfortunately, the spontaneous kissing of his sister's friend's husband had pushed most of the rationality out of his mind. The lane opened out into a field full of grazing cattle. The mare wasn't fond of cows at the best of times, so urging her straight towards them at a gallop was probably not the most sensible thing to do. This was confirmed when a startled calf bellowed and ran to its mother, cutting right in front of the horse. She dug her heels in and stopped abruptly, skidding on the damp grass, causing Charles to lose his balance. As she spooked and jumped sideways, Charles completely lost his seat and fell to the ground, feeling a sharp pain in his shoulder when he landed on it. He bit his lip hard to keep in his shout, and felt blood welling when the skin broke.
"Charles?" He heard Erik shout, and a moment later, the man was kneeling next to him on the wet grass. "What the hell happened? Are you alright?"
"Yes. No." He swallowed a groan. "It's my shoulder. I can't – it really bloody hurts."
"Oh for God's sake." Erik shook his head. "Don't move. I'll catch your sister's stupid horse and then we'll get you home. And a doctor."
Charles heard Erik stride away from him, trying not to think about the throb in his shoulder. He was incredibly glad Erik's mind was blocked off from his – he had a tendency to project feelings or sensations, such as extreme pain or pleasure, when they became too much. He'd never forgotten the lecture Raven had given him when they were younger, and he'd broken his arm falling from a tree. What felt like hours later, he heard Erik leading Mystique back towards him. He focused all his effort on not crying out in pain when Erik somehow lifted him onto his father's horse, leading him and Raven's mare back up to the house. When Charles tried to look back on this later, he realised he couldn't recall the walk back home, although he suspected it hadn't been pleasant.
The next thing he was aware of was the clattering of horseshoes as they reached the stable yard, the smell of sweet hay and horse sweat. A man's voice – he presumed it was Erik – was shouting. Something about a doctor. There were arms around him, easing him down from the horse's back; arms that held him for perhaps a little longer than necessary.
...
AN: I took ages again. Woops. I'm not sorry, it was my birthday, and I managed to coerce my friends into a comic book character party. Well, they didn't take much persuading, to be honest. My friends are spectacular XD
I have a tiny fascination with men riding horses. I tried not to overdo it, but may have failed... I'm also mildly concerned about my continuity.
A gold star to anyone who can guess who the doctor's going to be. Obvious choice is obvious ahahaaa.
The lyrics between Erik and Charles' PoVs are from 'Dust Bowl Dance', by Mumford and Sons.