To anyone else it looked like an ordinary evening.
Two men on a couch, one lying with his head on the other's lap. One them reading a book out loud.
Nothing extraordinary after all, but there was nothing ordinary about these two men.
For Charles, who only a few weeks ago had resigned himself to solitude, there was nothing ordinary about this situation.
Erik.
Erik's presence at his side. In his life. Or Charles' presence in Erik's life. There was nothing ordinary about it.
It had only been a few weeks since he had arrived on Genosha, since they had confessed their feelings, and yet everything was so natural that he had the impression that they had been together for years. Maybe because their fates had crossed so many times. Maybe because the bond that connected them had been able to overcome all their confrontations, but for Charles, it was precious, that's why it was not ordinary.
A sweet evening routine had settled in. After dinner they would go to the couch, Charles lying with his head on Erik's lap. Sometimes they would read a different book, sometimes they would listen to music, and often they would get into a heated debate, one of them having a theory, and just like in their chess games, their minds would clash.
But what Charles liked best was what they were doing now.
He was content to listen to Erik read aloud from a book they had chosen together.
Occasionally he would interrupt himself or Charles would interrupt him because they needed to talk about an idea or topic that the reading had brought. But usually, what Charles enjoyed most was the sound of Erik's voice. He had to admit that more than once he had lost the thread of the story simply because he was carried away by the sound of Erik's voice, its familiar inflection, which at that moment was meant only for him.
Tonight the feeling of comfort was such that he fell asleep to the sound of that voice.
"Charles?"
"Charles?"
Erik had felt during the reading that Charles' head had become heavy in his lap. Then the deep, even breathing told him that his lover had fallen asleep.
After shaking him lightly and calling him several times, it was clear he was sleeping so deeply that nothing would wake him.
Erik stood up, taking care not to move Charles' head too much. Then he took him in his arms and lifted him up.
As he moved forward with his precious load in his arms, Charles groaned slightly.
Erik brought his ear to his lips to hear what he was saying.
"Erik... keep talking please."
Charles was in that space between sleeping and waking. That moment when you speak without being aware of it and you don't remember it when you're awake.
"What do you want me to say Charles?"
Charles mumbled in response, "Whatever you want. I like the sound of your voice."
Erik chuckled a little and obliged Charles' request. Whispering in his ear over and over until he laid him down in their bed. He slid in beside him, wrapped him in his arms and whispered those last words in his ear, "Guten nacht mein Schatz."*
In response Charles pressed himself a little closer to Erik and sighed with contentment.
Before he drifted off to sleep, as he held Charles surrendered in his arms in perfect trust, Erik also thought to himself that there was nothing ordinary about this.
Their relationship, the happiness they were trying to build together after all they had been through, was precious because it was forged in adversity.
And that, that will never be ordinary.