"Ugh, this is impossible!"
Charles scowled at the puzzle in front of him then at the directions on the floor next to him. So much for his hope that he could put bunk beds together on his own. It really shouldn't be this difficult to fit four boards into one piece! Four pieces should slot together with little trouble, right? So why couldn't he do it?
He reached for the hammer, intending to give it another go before giving up for the day. Instead, his phone rang and he picked that up instead. "Hello?"
"Charles? It's Melanie. From the juvenile detention center?"
Charles froze. Why was she calling? It had to be good news, he hoped. "Melanie, hi. Is everything okay? Is Alex all right?"
She quickly said, "Alex is fine. Missing you and Scott, but otherwise fine." A pause. "Actually, that's why I'm calling. Do you have time to come by my office this afternoon?"
A quick look at his watch informed him it was nearly two fifteen. "Um. . . I can be there in about forty-five minutes, will that work?"
"Perfect. Thanks, Charles. I'll see you soon."
They hung up and Charles stared at the screen—an image of Scott and Alex together, unaware that he took the picture. Melanie wanted to see him in her office. There was only one reason she would want that. Did she want to give him the bad news in person? Was she worried about his reaction?
Oh god, Alex. . .
"Get a grip," he muttered to himself. There's no reason to panic. She could just as easily want to give him good news.
Although, the way his life had been going this week, it was almost a guarantee that it would be bad news.
Melanie was waiting for him by the time he reached her office, a big smile on her face. "Good, you're here. Iris, can you get Alex?"
Charles slowly took a seat. "Is everything all right, Melanie? What's going on?"
She smiled reassuringly at him. "Let's just wait for Alex, so I don't have to say it twice."
His brows furrowed, but he waited, fingers tapping his leg. Then the door opened again and in walked Alex, shooting a wary glance between the adults.
"Hey, what's going on?" Alex asked.
Charles stood and pulled him into a quick hug then turned to Melanie. "He's here. Now tell me, what is this all about?"
An earsplitting grin crossed Melanie's face as she leaned against the edge of her desk. "Now, it's not official quite yet; not until the paperwork is filed in a couple days but I just couldn't wait to tell you." She paused, looking between them. Charles held his breath, expecting the worst. "The judge signed the papers. Alex, you and Scott are officially Xaviers now!"
The two of them stared at her in disbelief. "What?" Charles breathed, his grip on Alex's shoulder tightening. "They're . . . they're my kids, now?"
"They are indeed, Charles." Melanie looked unbelievably happy for them.
Charles let out a little laugh and ran a hand through his hair. Then he pulled Alex tight against him feeling the teen hug him back, shoulders shaking. They were his. He couldn't believe it. This was the best news he could have ever received.
They finally pulled apart and Alex asked, "Scott. Does he know?"
Melanie's smile faded slightly. "Not yet. I just got the news myself a couple hours ago."
Smiling through the sting of happy tears, Charles asked, "When can they move in with me?"
"Not until the paperwork's been filed, unfortunately. Which should be either Monday or Tuesday. By then Scott should be ready to go as well." She smiled again. "Go on, spend some time together. Let the news sink in."
Charles and Alex left the office and started down a hallway, no clear location in mind. After a few minutes, Charles asked, "Do you need any help gathering your belongings?"
Alex shrugged. "No, I don't have a lot. Scotty's probably got way more, though."
"That's going to change," Charles responded firmly. "You two will have more things than you'll know what to do with when I'm done with you."
Alex scrubbed his eyes, muttered, "Thanks."
They walked the halls for a while, eventually making their way to the front doors. Alex abruptly asked, "So what's up with you and Erik?"
Charles blinked. Where in the world had that come from? "What do you mean?" he sidestepped.
"Well, Mark and I were talking last time I was at the center—before it got closed—and turns out we've both noticed how often Erik came by and, like, the way he looks at you. . . I mean, even Warren can see it and he's a dick. So we got to wondering if there's something going on."
Flabbergasted, Charles had no idea how to respond to that. "I'm glad that you and Warren have figured out how to get along."
Alex scoffed. "Yeah, now that I don't want to punch him in the face all the time, he's not so bad. But then, I have Erik to thank for the anger management tips."
Charles looked at him, startled by the comment. "Anger management tips?"
Alex shrugged. "Yeah, he taught me how to box. But now you're changing the subject. Erik told me you two had a pretty bad breakup a while back that, like, totally killed him, but now he wants to fix things. Do you want to get back with him? Is that what's happening?"
Charles' mouth opened and closed several times before he finally answered, "It's complicated." His mind drifted—what did Alex mean by the way Erik looked at him? And then he remembered his conversation with Moira and his decision. But of course he hadn't talked to Erik yet. The one opportunity he'd had, he'd chickened out.
"Dad!"
He started, looking at Alex in surprise. "What?" The tone indicated Alex had tried to get his attention several times. Then what the teen said registered and Charles smiled. "You called me dad."
Alex turned red and ducked his head, muttering, "Well that's what you are now, right?"
Charles tugged him close, pressed a kiss to his temple. "That I am, my boy; that I am."
A sign on the wall let him know they were nearing the doors. "About your earlier question. . ." Alex looked up at him, curiosity in his eyes. Charles said, "In all honesty, I am still in love with Erik. And I would like to try getting back together with him but I have no idea how it would work. I can't leave my life here, can't uproot you and Scott now that you have friends. Besides, he still lives in Hollywood. But yes, Alex, to answer your question, if it could work, I would like to get back together with Erik."
They rounded the corner as Charles said that last sentence and came face to face with the subject of the conversation. Charles paled, said in surprise, "Erik! Hi." How much had he heard? He wasn't ready for this conversation, hadn't rehearsed anything.
Erik's mouth was open a little, his gaze riveted to Charles.
Alex said, "Hey, man, you're early."
Charles half-turned toward the teen, his eyes never leaving Erik, and frantically tried to figure out what to do because yes he wanted to talk to Erik about this. . . . and Erik is right there and how much did he hear? Wait, was Alex expecting Erik to come by?
Erik finally said, "Yeah, we finished the shoot earlier than expected so I figured I'd just swing by." A pause. "Hi, Charles. I . . . how are you?"
Charles swallowed. Okaaaay. . . so Erik wasn't going to bring it up. Should he? His voice was a little higher as he replied, "Fine. I, uh, I just um . . . what . . . are you doing here?"
Alex answered, "He's been teaching me boxing, remember? Since the center closed, he's been coming here."
Right. He had said that. And it made sense because Erik was a boxer in college—an image popped into his head then of stumbling upon a sweaty Erik in nothing but shorts practicing in their shared dorm room. Oh shit, okay. Time to leave, now. Talk later, leave now before doing something that would scar Alex.
Like seeing if Erik still had those abs under his shirt.
Taking a deep breath, Charles yanked his gaze away and hugged Alex tight. "I'll come by tomorrow and we'll work out logistics, yes?" he said softly against the teen's ear.
Alex nodded against his shoulder and whispered, "I'm glad this happened." Charles closed his eyes. "Charles?" Alex pulled back. "I've lost a lot of people in my life so trust me—don't let him go again. You'll regret it for the rest of your life."
Charles shot a quick look at Erik, who was watching them, and nodded. "Thanks for the advice. Oh, and Alex, what Melanie told us? Keep it our secret until Monday." He meant don't tell Erik.
Alex frowned, looking between them. "Okay. If you're sure."
Charles nodded. "Well, I have to get going. Have fun, you two." He started for the door, sidestepping past Erik, who had yet to look away from him.
Erik caught his hand as they drew even and asked quietly, "Are you okay?"
He nodded quickly, his heart pounding. How much had Erik heard? "Yeah," he said lightly. "Just a lot of stuff happening all at once."
Erik studied him. "Is it okay that I'm here with Alex?"
"Absolutely. You're clearly helping him and I can see that he loves spending time with you."
"Okay, good. I thought I'd overstepped for a minute there."
Charles smiled. "Not at all." He pulled his hand free and started for the door again but then something occurred to him and he turned back, calling Erik's name. When the actor turned back, Charles said, "Can I see your phone?"
Confused, Erik nevertheless handed his phone over. Charles quickly entered his number into it before he could change his mind. Handing it back with a half-shrug, he explained, "I changed my number years ago."
"Ah. Well, thanks. I'll call you later, then?"
Charles nodded and hurried out, hearing Erik ask Alex if everything was okay. He didn't stay to hear Alex's answer, slipping into his car where he dropped his head onto the steering wheel and berated himself for once again acting like a coward. Why didn't he say something? Or let Erik say something? That was the perfect opportunity! And he'd deliberately avoided it, again. Ugh, what was wrong with him? It's not like he enjoyed living with a broken heart, forever in love with someone he'd thought didn't love him.
Only it turned out that that someone did indeed still love him. It should not be this difficult to just tell Erik to his face that he wanted to try again.
Next time.
Next time, he would say something. Because, after all, third time's the charm, right?
Humming Christmas tunes under his breath, Charles stepped into his apartment, setting down the bags full of presents for the boys. His coat was half off when his cell phone rang. Maneuvering awkwardly, he answered without checking caller ID. "Hello?"
"Hey, Charles. How are you doing?"
"Erik, hi. I'm good. What's up, aren't you filming tonight?"
"They called it an early night. So, listen, are you busy? Got plans tonight?"
Charles finally managed to get out of his coat. "Not really, no. Why?"
Sounding hesitant over the phone line, Erik said, "I was thinking I could come over and we could hang out? I can grab some takeout and we could talk or watch a movie or something."
Charles thought it over. This could be his chance.
"Charles? You still there?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. Um, sounds good. I'll text you my address."
Erik came by with Chinese and they ate on the couch in awkward silence until finally Charles decided to break it. "I have to tell you something."
Erik eyed him cautiously. "Okay. . ."
Charles bit his lip, lowered his chopsticks into the container, and shifted to face Erik. "I have to tell someone before I burst." He paused. "The adoption's official!"
Erik stared at him for a moment then grinned. "Charles! That's fantastic news! When did you find out? When do they move in?"
"That day we ran into each other at the juvie center, Alex and I had just come from Melanie's office where she told us that unofficially the judge had approved. I just didn't want to say anything right then because she said the paperwork wouldn't be filed until today." Their gazes locked and Charles felt his heart skip. "Anyway, Alex can move in anytime now but she's been having a little trouble reaching Scott. I just can't wait to have them both here."
He was grinning so wide his cheeks hurt, and Erik looked just as happy. Then Erik leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, igniting a fiery blush in Charles. "That is amazing, Charles. Congratulations."
Charles ducked his head, fiddled with his chopsticks. "Would, uh, would you mind helping me with the bunk beds? I can't seem to get them to fit together and you were always better at that sort of thing, anyway," his voice trailing off at the end.
"Of course. Where are they?"
Abandoning the remains of their takeout, Charles led Erik to the newly decorated bedroom and the furniture pieces. Erik took a look at the partly put together corners, knelt down and tugged at them. Picked up a few random pieces. The bag of screws and nails. Flipped through the instruction booklet. "Do you have a hammer?"
He thought about it. "Umm . . . oh yeah. In my bedroom. I can go—"
Erik stood up. "I'll get it. Be right back." How about that, he thought. First time in Charles' new apartment and he quickly got a chance to see his bedroom.
It was pretty much what he'd expected, a typical bedroom. Except the box and the hammer on the floor next to it. Shrugging, Erik bent down to pick up the tool and his gaze slid to the open box and its contents.
Was that . . . ?
Erik picked up a photo and stared at it. That was the night he'd proposed. He could remember it perfectly, down to the tears in Charles' eyes as Erik slid the ring onto his finger. Erik walked across the hall to find Charles sitting on the floor amid furniture pieces and cleared his throat. When Charles looked up, an eyebrow raised in question, Erik turned the photo to face him.
Charles went red. "Ah."
Erik sat next to him. "I didn't know that had been taken."
Charles took it, stared down at it. "Yeah, Raven took it."
"Do you remember that night?"
"Yes," Charles said softly, his grip on the photo causing it to wrinkle a little.
Erik hesitated but he had to ask. "Is it a good memory?"
Charles stared at him, his blue eyes wide in surprise. "Erik . . . that is one of my favorite memories, no matter what happened to us afterwards. It was such a wonderful night already, and then you asked me to marry you—I remember thinking it couldn't get better than that."
"Me, too." They stared at each other, something shifting between them. What he wouldn't give to be able to cross those few inches and feel Charles' lips against his own. He had the funny feeling that Charles might not stop him . . .
Erik finally cleared his throat and reached for the instructions. "I still can't believe you bought this from IKEA," he teased.
Charles chuckled and the moment was broken. "Yes, my first and last time, I believe."
They managed to work together to get the beds set up and then they moved to Charles' bedroom to go through some more photos of years ago. Erik shifted, his leg falling asleep, and caught sight of the time. Shit, it was nearly ten. "Wow, it's late. I have to go, get some sleep before call time tomorrow."
Charles started gathering everything to put away then followed Erik to the living room where he pulled his coat on. Erik stood in the hall, Charles in the doorway with one hand on the doorknob. Awkwardness stretched between them. Erik leaned in to kiss Charles on the cheek but Charles turned his head and their mouths met for a brief moment.
He breathed in sharply as he pulled back. Opened his mouth to say . . . what?
Charles blurted out, "I want to try!"
Erik blinked, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. "Want to try what?"
Charles bit his lip. Waved a hand vaguely between them. "Us. I . . . I want to try . . . us. If—if that's okay with you."
Feeling a mixture of relief and hope, Erik replied, "I've waited so long to hear you say that, Charles."
Charles smiled a little. Erik leaned back in, intending a real kiss this time, but they were interrupted by Charles' cell phone ringing. They both looked over Charles' shoulder at where it sat on the kitchen counter.
"I should get that." Reluctance colored his voice.
Erik nodded, disappointed. "Good night, then, Charles."
A faint smile. "Good night, Erik."
Erik took one step out the door then changed his mind and turned around. Charles hadn't moved. Erik walked back to him, cupped Charles' face with his hands and kissed him. After his initial surprise, Charles returned it.
Pulling back, Erik smiled down at him. The phone continued to ring in the background. Charles' gaze sparkled up at him and he smiled back.
"Now I'm going." Erik forced himself to back out into the hall, a grin creasing his face as he strolled towards the elevators. Finally.
