AN: I am not Jewish. Anything here is the result of research, so if anything is wrong please do tell me. I especially would like to know if the use of "HaShem" instead of "God" is out-of-place.
Charles walked down the lane from Logan's inn towards the village. Wanda was by his right side holding his hand while Anya walked along his left. Pietro ran around in front of them, excitedly exclaiming.
"We're going to a wedding, we're going to a wedding," he repeated over and over in a sing-song voice.
Charles glanced a few feet behind him at Max with amusement on his face. The man gave him a look of misery as he trotted along with David sitting on his shoulders. Pietro had been going since they left the inn ten minutes prior, more rambunctious than usual after they informed him of the event they were attending. Charles had to bite his lip to stifle a laugh, but if Max's resulting glare was any indication, he knew Charles was enjoying his annoyance.
In truth, Charles was excited too. The group was on their way to the village to join a wedding celebration in the village square. All were invited. Charles, being the naturally curious person he was, had to go despite Max's reluctance. He had never been to such a celebration. As a nobleman, he had no cause to go to the weddings or celebrations of the lower class. Growing up in a mostly Protestant country, he had no idea about the Jewish wedding customs. He was not a devout person, but he was happy to have new experiences in Genosha. The longer he stayed in this country, the more he felt glad to reside in it. He had not felt this comfortable in a place in a long while. Then again, maybe that also had to do with the company.
The Eisenhardts had proven to be welcome additions in Charles' life. The twins and Anya were perfectly lovely. It was splendid to watch David playing with his newfound friends like he never had the opportunity to do before and Max was a more than pleasing companion. Charles was happy to call him a friend. He sometimes wished he could call him more, but his past was so sordid, and Max seemed so put-together. Charles did not want him to get involved with his mess. If the Markos ever found him, Max and his children would be in danger. Charles had come to hold the Eisenhardts in high regard very quickly. Logan was dubious with his interest in the family, cautioning Charles before his trip not to fall in too deeply with them. Charles saw the merit in the advice, but Logan had left him alone with them. What was Charles to do? Ignore their existence?
Max was not an easy man to ignore. Charles was starting to think there might be no one on this earth whom he could regard as fondly as the blacksmith. Max was intelligent, cunning, and more amenable than he allowed others to think. He was opinionated, but he always presented valid arguments to support his opinions and Charles enjoyed their little spars. He was a caring father, always willing to bend for his children's needs. David even liked him.
His son was quiet by nature and not prone to like new people, probably learned behavior from his time in Salem. He was lukewarm with Logan on the best of days. Tony had not been able to win him over either and even Pepper found herself unable to garner his affection. If Charles went into the village with David, he caught him telepathically turning people's attention away from himself so he did not have to suffer the cooing and fussing babies and toddlers often inspired. In contrast, he allowed Max to hold him and rock him to sleep. He followed the alpha around as they explored the surrounding areas of the inn and went to him for help crossing the waters or picking berries and fruits from the bushes and trees. Max never complained, never appeared to be annoyed even when David got his shirts dirty with berry juice, or used his telepathy to project his thoughts instead of speaking, or had to be forcibly removed from Max's head because David felt comfortable there.
Charles was not blind to the deeper emotions swirling through Max's head. Sometimes Charles could not help but be all but bowled over by unexpected waves of negative sentiment from Max. Usually, a mixture of anger and grief. Charles did not begrudge him this. He had extrapolated from their conversation that Max's sister was likely murdered. Max was still processing this loss. It was fresh and painful for him, Charles could tell just from the small psionic tidal waves that crashed over him. It bothered David sometimes when Max sunk into these dour moods. Charles did what he could to shield him from it. He did not ask Max about it but once. That first time, Max had lashed out at him in anger and Charles walked away, frightened. The alpha later apologized and Charles forgave him, but never asked again. Perhaps that was why Logan warned him to keep his distance, but Charles had more command of his powers and David's than his godfather gave him credit for. He could protect them against those low points in Max's moods. They never lasted long anyway. No, Charles could not imagine Max in a bad light at all despite Logan's caution.
"Are we going to get to eat food, Daddy?" Pietro asked, still bouncing around.
"I'd imagine so."
"Will there be a lot of boring stuff before?"
"Weddings aren't boring, Pietro. They mean something important. They are a symbol of two people coming together, under the sight of HaShem, to live their lives for and with one another. I've heard this marriage is a love match. It's a celebration of mateship," Anya retorted.
"Boring," the boy stressed.
Charles let out a laugh and glanced back at Max again to see his lip quirked with mirth.
"Are there many weddings in Genosha, Max?" Charles asked.
In Westchester, weddings among the noble class were mandatory. It was usually more of a business arrangement than it was a love match, but among the lower classes, weddings were often extravagances that could not be afforded.
"They range in size, but yes, weddings are important ceremonies in our religion. A bite and appropriate consummation are more binding than a ketubah is, but it is still important to our culture."
"What exactly is going to happen at this wedding?"
"Well, we will probably get there in time for the sheva b'rachot and the second cup of wine."
"Sheva b'rachot?"
Max snorted at his pronunciation. Charles shot him a glare to cover up his embarrassment.
"The seven blessings. The village rabbi will recite it and then the blessing over wine to the couple, further binding them in full commitment to marriage. They will break the glass and we will sing the Siman Tov u'Mazel Tov. There'll be something of a recessional called the yichud. The couple will take a moment, 10 to 20 minutes, of privacy away from the guests before returning for the banquet. Food will be served—"
"Food!" Pietro exclaimed, cutting through the explanation.
"The grace after meals and then dancing. There are a few special dances for the family, but the dancefloor will be open to everyone."
Charles nodded, absorbing all the information given to him. Max let a small chuckle escape his lips.
"It's a wedding, Charles. No need to tackle it as if it were a science experiment."
"I just want to be respectful. Granted, I am not exactly the most pious man or devout Christian who ever lived, but I don't want to look like an inept fool in front of everyone or ruin the wedding somehow."
He bit his lip, worrying about how this would go. He was surprised to have even been invited at all, given everyone in the village was invited. The Danes and Hallers were obviously over-the-moon with the match, more so than Charles was expecting, and wanted to make their daughters' marriage as big of a well-to-do as possible. Charles had thought that kind of thing reserved for the aristocracy, but apparently not.
He looked beside him as Max stepped up to walk next to the trio.
"You'll be fine. Just be yourself and no one will have a problem. If they do, I'll be there."
Charles looked over at the taller man and let a soft smile of gratitude alight his face. They came upon the village, the setting sun illuminating the empty streets. Max stepped up and led the group forward until they turned the corner to the square. There, a group of hundreds was sat around the square, some at tables and others on benches or blankets on the floor. In the center of the square stood a couple under a cloth canopy along with who Charles assumed was the rabbi and several others who must've been family members of the brides. Max led them to a stone bench on the outskirts of the crowd, sitting with David in his lap. Charles captured Pietro before he could run off anywhere and placed him between the two men, allowing Wanda to crawl on his lap, careful of his sore ribs, while Anya placed herself neatly on the bench beside him. Pietro grumbled but didn't move to flee after Charles began running his fingers through his shock of white hair. He zeroed in on the ceremony, trying to listen to the words said with fascination.
"We all stand here today before your fellow villagers celebrating the gift Adonai, our god, has seen fit to bestow upon you. The gift of a true bond."
Charles' eyebrows shot up. He glanced at Max. His brows were furrowed. So this was not a traditional part of the ceremonies then.
True bonds were a tricky concept. A true bond was one that was viewed as predestined mateship. A true bond presented itself at meeting, binding the two long before a claiming. Westchesterian culture was steeped in tales of fair maidens locking eyes and falling in love instantly, princes falling for paupers over a dance, or soldiers on opposite sides of wars finding each other on the battlefield. All the nobles at court aspired to it as if it were something that was not a natural occurrence but could be bought or earned. They threw the terminology around loosely. "My one true mate" was a common endearment. Charles was claimed as quite a few lords' true mates after a roll in the sheets. It was hardly sacred in his homeland. As for Charles' stance, he never had much of an opinion. As a telepath, he could feel when love between a pair was true and that was always of significance to him over whether those two people were soulmates through cosmic design. He wondered what the school of thought was here in Genosha. These villagers seemed happy to indulge in it.
He zoned his telepathy towards the couple and was almost bowled over by the tremendous amount of love coming from the two women.
"Are you alright?" Erik asked beside him as Wanda looked up at him warily.
"Yes, yes, just..." Charles trailed off, gesturing towards his head meaningfully.
"Is it too much? We can leave. I should've thought of the number of people."
Max looked down at David worriedly, but the toddler sat perfectly relaxed in his lap, playing with a couple of Max's fingers.
"Don't worry, I'm filtering everything for him. And I'm fine," Charles assured him before he locked back on to the rabbi's words.
"As HaShem made the sun and the moon, so too did he make these two souls, brought together by His holy guiding light. As sacred as the bond between child and parent, forged through the blessing of HaShem, so too is the true bond between these two, His faithful servants. Gabrielle Haller and Suzanne Dane, I now bless you with the traditional seven blessings."
Charles did not understand the prayers as they were said in Hebrew, but still felt the gravity of the words. Eventually, a large goblet was brought forward as the two brides both held cups of wine. They began to pour their cups into the larger goblet until their individual mugs were empty.
"This goblet of wine is symbolic of the cup of life. As you share this cup of wine, you undertake to share all the future may bring. Happy is the bride and bride who find love in marriage. Happy are they that receive and gladden in this bond sanctified by Him who fashioned the alpha, beta, and omega in His image, according to His likeness and has fashioned from these distinctions the rare and holy gift of the true bond, just as he bestowed this gift upon His creatures in the garden of Eden. May you find life's joys doubly gladdened, its bitterness sweetened, and all things hallowed by true bondage and love as Elohim has willed it so."
The two drank from the cup, their eyes never leaving one another. Charles let the smallest tendril of his telepathy flow towards the couple. Again, the depth of love was almost overwhelming. It was so vast, he could hardly grasp the shape of it. He had never felt anything like this before. It was beautiful, it was radiant. It felt warm and safe. He wanted to cloak himself in it. He was broken sharply from the haze of the residual emotion when the sound of breaking glass and then a chorus of singing crashed into him. He startled again, garnering the attention of his companions.
"Don't cry, Charles. It's just glass. We're safe," Wanda reassured him, clutching on to his arm as if to impress the veracity of her statement into him.
Charles reached up, surprised at the tears falling down his face.
"We are, dear. Thank you," Charles replied, patting her forehead to assuage her worry.
He glanced at Max, embarrassed about the tableau he was creating.
"My sister always cried at weddings too," he commented, giving him a kind look as he reached out to brush his thumbs softly over the droplets on his cheeks. He stayed perfectly still as Max cleaned his face, ignoring the singing around him and the children on top of them and beside them and the couple exiting the square as the rabbi gave orders about where to go for the banquet. He let out a breath when Max finished.
"Alright?" the alpha asked.
"Yes. They are just very much in love. I've never felt anything like it. It was a bit overwhelming. Most weddings I've attended haven't been under the same circumstances."
The last wedding Charles remembered was Raven's. He had sat in his chair, barely aware of his surroundings with Cain's heavy hand on his knee as Kurt walked Raven down the aisle and married her off to Lord Wagner, a man who was forty years her senior. If Charles had had access to his telepathy, he was certain he would have found no love there. Raven was angry and full of hate for her circumstances while Lord Wagner was indifferent and apathetic towards his new young bride.
In comparison, Gabrielle and Suzanne's love was staggering, like a living thing that existed symbiotically through their bond.
"They are a true bond, didn't you hear?" Max commented sarcastically.
Charles gave him a curious look.
"It's not real, of course."
Anya gave a protesting squawk as they got up to move with the crowd towards where the food was, Pietro practically vibrating between them at the notion. Honestly, one would think the boy was starved.
"I'm surprised they weren't met with more skepticism and scorn. The last couple I heard of in Genosha to claim to have a true bond were two betas, already married, who claimed their infidelity was a result of a true bond. They were both still found guilty of adultery and punished. I supposed these women managed to get the rabbi to believe them somehow. The only way in Genosha to have a true bond documented is if a rabbi recognizes it. They are not in the habit of doing so often."
"What would be the purpose of them lying? Perhaps they do have a true bond. Stranger things have happened. It's a bit romantic, isn't it? Two people made for one another," Charles mused as they continued forward.
"It's a fantasy."
"Doesn't make it less romantic, does it? It certainly would make things easier if everyone had a soulmate. Then you wouldn't have to bother with the whole mess of courtships and the like."
"I suppose," Max shrugged as they turned into the designated banquet area.
Charles started to feel a little self-conscious about it. He was not some grand romantic, nor did he have some unshakable belief in the existence of true bonds, so what was he defending these women for?
"What do I know? I've never even been in love. I'm hardly an expert on what a true bond is, let alone what constitutes romance, not beyond the pages of a novel."
"What? Never?" Max asked with disbelief.
Charles shook his head.
"I simply cannot believe that."
Charles looked up at him curiously.
"You're so…" Max trailed off, looking away.
If Charles were crazy, he'd say the man's tanned cheek appeared redder as if he were blushing. That was foolish though. Max was never flustered. He was always cool and collected unlike Charles. He envied the man in that.
"But you're great, Charles. Anyone would be lucky to have you," Anya added next to him, picking up her father's slack.
He shot the girl a grateful smile.
"It's not that, is it? Just because someone wants you doesn't mean you have to want them. And don't feel obligated to do so, even if they claim to love you to the moon and back. People say things like that all the time and never really know what it means. Remember that."
Anya nodded thoughtfully at the sage advice. He glanced over at Max to see if he had overstepped, but the man was just staring at him contemplatively. Charles wondered what he was thinking. Before he could ask, he was cut off by an exclamation from Wanda.
"Emma!"
The little girl ran from his side towards a beautiful blonde alpha in the congregation. Charles watched curiously as Pietro and Anya also went to greet the woman. He glanced up at Max, wondering who she was. He had a blank expression on his face, but there was a tightness around his eyes that told Charles he wasn't especially pleased with this development. The woman approached them along with the children, looking between Charles and Max with an assessing look.
"Max," she said in a polite and formal voice.
"Emma."
The two stared at one another quietly for a moment, unspoken tension between them. Charles glanced between them curiously. She was not an unattractive woman. Quite the opposite. Her blonde hair was held back from her face in a severe bun, allowing her flattering face to take center stage. She had a pleasant scent about her: freshly fallen snow, elderflower, and maple. Sweet but not sickeningly so. She was the type whose acquaintance he would have liked to make in his bed-chamber in his past life. The alpha woman suddenly looked over at him.
"Hello," she greeted, her voice chilly but not totally unfriendly.
"Emma Frost, I'm an old associate of Max's. You are?"
"Charles. My son and I are lodging with my godfather along with the Eisenhardts."
"Logan is your godfather?"
"He is."
"Hmm. And have you been here long?"
"Not very. A little over a month. And yourself?"
"The same. I haven't seen you in town much.
"I have been in town on occasion."
"I'm sure I would've remembered your face."
Despite the flirtatious implication he could have read into her words, her tone made him distinctly aware that she was not looking upon him with the amorous inclination of an alpha to an omega. She was looking him up and down, regarding him as prey, but not of the carnal sense. Charles was thrown at the subtle hostility but elected to act civilly for Max's sake.
"Your words credit me, but I'm not certain my face is so memorable as all that."
"Well, I try to keep track of Max's friends, so I think I would've remembered you after all. Especially given you found each other at such a fortuitous time in your life."
"I'm sorry."
"You are recently divorced, are you not? I hear many omegas seek another alpha after such a thing posthaste. Now here you are. You and Max together."
Charles reared back, shocked at her words. He wasn't sure if it was the boldness of her statements or how much he wished they were true that jarred him more. He was at a loss as to what to make of her tone and inquiries. He wondered if perhaps this was jealousy. Perhaps Max was like Logan and preferred the company of alphas. Charles would think that was something Max would have shared with him by now, but maybe he had reason to be cautious. There were his children to think of. Before he could continue that train of thought, Max cut across them.
"Charles has become a friend to me in a short amount of time. He hardly needs me to defend his honor, but in the event he cannot do it himself, I am happy to assist if that is what you are implying," Max replied in a hard tone.
Ms. Frost regarded Charles for another long moment before switching her gaze back to Max.
"Of course. So chivalrous of you, Max."
Charles narrowed his eyes at the woman as a sudden psionic nudge made itself known against his shields. He pushed it back in admonishment. Ms. Frost immediately looked back at him, her ice-blue eyes assessing him.
"You're a telepath," she stated.
"As are you. I tend to find it rude to peek without permission."
"I tend to find peeking useful. Gives me an idea of who I'm dealing with."
You're about to find out, Charles thought uncharitably.
"Stay out of his head," Max warned the woman, glaring at her.
She held his gaze for a long moment, not an alpha challenging another alpha, but meaningfully still. Perhaps they were conversing telepathically. After a minute, Ms. Frost's eyes scrunched together as if she were in pain before she jerked her head back, almost like she was slapped.
"I see your son is a telepath as well. So strong for one so young."
Charles observed David, watched him settle further into Max's arms and place his little fingers over the man's temples possessively. Charles hid a smirk of amusement.
"I apologize. He's got a jealous streak about him. He quite enjoys Max's head. He won't even let me anywhere near him once he's settled inside."
"Well, aren't you all a regular happy family? And so soon too. Max, misanthrope that he is, is usually never so quickly… swayed by people, least of all telepaths. It took me a fashion to gain his trust, convince him I wouldn't go snooping or changing anything."
Charles caught the implication in her words, the insinuation that he was up to something nefarious or underhanded. Ms. Frost's eyes continued to appraise him, judging him. He couldn't help but raise his head in defiance. Was he to spend his entire life the target of baseless accusations because he managed to get away from the clutches of heathens like the Markos? Were his actions so much more offensive than those of Cain's and Kurt's that his integrity was to be questioned rather than theirs? Was his life so meaningless simply because of his distinction?
"I've found my taste in telepaths to be as much of a moral decision as an aesthetic one, though I have no small appreciation for that either as you can see," Max rejoined.
Charles looked up at him with a small smile, a slight burn on his cheeks at the subtle compliment and defense.
"We have to find seats if we're going to get food. It was nice to see you, Emma," Anya said, cutting through the tense silence.
"And you, dear. Keep your siblings out of trouble," the blonde said, shooting Charles and Max one more look before walking off.
"Old associate?" He asked Max once she left.
Max nodded quietly.
"Does she know that? She was quite… intense."
"Emma is always intense. She doesn't mean anything by it. She just doesn't know how to interact with people like a normal human being. She doesn't know how to play nice or make friends, and she can be overprotective to boot."
"Sounds a bit familiar."
Max shot him a playful glare and Charles smiled in response, ruffling David's hair as he quietly observed the crowd around them.
Charles put the run in out of his mind and focused on the festivities. Overall, he would say the wedding banquet was something he was happy to experience. He was fascinated with the prayers and dances that he had to get Max to explain like the gladdening of the bride and the hora. Pietro got to gorge himself on food and cake. Charles would've been concerned about giving him sugar, but all the children seemed to have worked it off by dancing and running around with the other children. Even David danced with the other toddlers. Mostly just jumping and swinging their arms, but Charles had just about died from the swelling in his chest at his son's happiness.
By the time they were on their way home, Charles was buzzing with wine and excitement. The jovial scene had seeped into his very bones, his telepathic walls coming down and allowing all the high emotions in, making him a little dizzy from it all. They could still hear the music playing even as they reached the inn and laid the sleepy children down to rest. He couldn't help but step back into the common area and fling open a window, allowing the cool night air to fill the room along with the sounds of the music in the village.
He jumped as a succession of bangs could be heard in the distance before relaxing when the sky lit up with fireworks. A smile stretched across his lips at the light show. It had been a while since he got to witness something like this. He leaned his head against the window frame and watched, enraptured by the colorful combustions, so much so he didn't notice anyone enter behind him.
"You know, I didn't see you dance."
He startled and turned quickly to look at Max, clutching his chest in fright.
"Heavens, you're quiet when you want to be."
The taller man smiled genially in reply, but Charles could detect the teasing edge to it.
"I'm sorry. I don't think you would've heard me over the fireworks at any rate."
Charles conceded the point, turning back to the display of red and white lights.
"Everyone truly is happy for the brides, aren't they? It's amazing to watch everyone come together to celebrate someone else's love. Gives me a bit more faith in humanity than I had before."
"It was possible to shake your faith," Max asked, moving to stand beside him.
Charles glanced at him. Thus far, any information given about their pasts were slips-of-the-tongue or accidents. Max hadn't pushed and Charles hadn't either.
"Just… life doesn't always turn out how you would hope," he replied vaguely.
"No, it doesn't. The last wedding I attended was my sister's. That certainly didn't turn out well."
Charles felt the same emotions he had felt from Max before when he brought up his sister: the rage, the anger, the pain. It was such that the peace and happiness the wedding had cast over him slowly began leeching away. Charles didn't want to lose it just yet, so he was quick to change the subject.
"What about you? Your marriage, I mean? What was it like?"
Max looked at him, a conflicted glint in his eye. Charles thought he wouldn't answer, but eventually he did.
"Magda was my best friend. I had known her since childhood. Our mothers were friends, so we were often around one another. I was, to put it bluntly, no friendlier as a child. I ran away most trying to befriend me, but she persevered. It didn't happen at once, our love, it grew over the course of years. She was there for me through some difficult times and I for her. In that, we began to feel strongly for one another. It wasn't an easy courtship. Our relationship and subsequent marriage were contested."
"Oh?"
"My father didn't think our marriage was useful to our family. I didn't care. I loved her, so I was not inclined to marry someone who would bring more money or status to the match. We had six years together before the twins were born. It was a difficult birth. She didn't make it."
Charles could feel pain coming from Max when he thought of this too, but it was a duller kind of hurt, one he had accepted, not the explosive kind that he felt with his sister.
"I'm sorry, my friend. If I could spare you the pain, I would."
"I was happy with the time that I did spend with her. I wish she hadn't gone, but I have our children. They are reminders of the happiness and love we shared. It was worth it. She was worth it."
There was a look of wistfulness and love on Max's face that captured Charles' heart, made it constrict sympathetically for the man's loss and, disconcertingly enough, envy the woman who had inspired it. It was ridiculous, but he couldn't entirely banish the notion.
"She was a lucky woman. I'm sure she knew every day that you loved her."
Max snapped from his reverie and gave Charles his attention once more. He looked a little hesitant to speak.
"What is it?"
"You said you were never in love earlier, but you were married."
Charles stiffened a little.
"I don't mean to pry, but was there ever a moment? A moment where love was at all possible for you?"
Charles' head tilted in curiosity.
"Why?"
Max looked away from him and up at the now dim sky.
"From what I've come to know of you, it seems a crying shame that you would never know what love feels like, the joy it can elicit, the safety one might find in it, the fulfillment."
Charles thought of every moment he spent with his lovers over the years, discounting Cain entirely for there was nothing to salvage there. There had been lovers who seemed more genuine than others, who had an interest in Charles not just for his body but also for his mind, but Charles could not say he had ever felt a stirring in his heart for them beyond that of friendship. There had never been a time when he had longed for someone even as they stood right in front of him. When his head was full of fantasies, not just of their coupling, but of blissful domesticity. When his heart felt as if it would beat out of his chest so it could make a new home inside his partner's. When he felt an almost physical pull to remain close to them. When he had wanted them so instantly and so completely, not until Max.
"No, my friend. I'm afraid there was never a moment," Charles answered softly, unwilling to admit what was in his heart at this juncture. He was not ready to be that vulnerable.
"Then I must tell you that my heart weeps for you, for there are few I can think of who deserve to have felt it more than you."
Charles looked up at Max from beneath his eyelashes, wondering if the man meant that in the way he hoped he did or if he was just being friendly.
"You didn't dance tonight," Max commented suddenly.
Charles blinked at the hard turn in the conversation.
"I… no, I didn't. I didn't know how to. Not those kinds of dances anyway. The weddings I've attended have leaned towards formality more than joviality."
"It's a shame to attend a wedding and not dance."
"Are you offering?" Charles retorted with a teasing smile. It wobbled a little when Max held out his hand without hesitation.
"Seriously?"
"Why not?"
"What if I step on your toes?"
"I'll survive, I think," Max shot back, looking Charles up and down. He inexplicably blushed at the inspection but accepted the hand held out to him.
Max pulled him close but left a space between them as he placed a hand on Charles' waist and began leading him in a simple box step. He had only just now noticed the music that was playing was slower. It was a romantic, atmospheric sort of ballad. Charles wanted to say something, but he couldn't. Instead, he allowed Max to lead him around the room, their bodies getting closer and closer together as they went along.
Somehow, Charles ended up with his head against Max's shoulder as they spun. His head was dizzy and light while the room felt hotter than when he first entered it. Max's scent invaded his nose and he couldn't smell anything, couldn't feel anything, couldn't want anything besides the other man.
The music stopped, but they continued dancing to a tune of their own making. Eventually, they simply swayed, their dance turning into something of a hug before Charles pulled back and looked up into Max's green eyes. There was no space between them any longer, their chests pulled flush, their hips needing only to move forward the barest amount for Charles to feel Max's length against his stomach. He wanted so much to close that small distance, to touch the other man in his most intimate places and feel his touch in return. Max's eyes looked heavily lidded and blacker than normal. His face was flushed and the grip he had on Charles' waist was tight. It struck Charles that Max was aroused by him. He felt a swell of pride but also a spike of longing.
"Max?" He said, his tongue feeling a little heavy from drink and this heady feeling that had slammed into him.
Max stared down at him. Charles could swear he saw his gaze upon his lips for a moment, but he didn't make a move. Charles moved his hands tentatively from the man's shoulders to meet around his neck. Max didn't stop him. He leaned up on his toes and pressed a light kiss to the other's lips, fearing he would pull away. Max stayed still for a while before he began kissing Charles back.
It was slow at first, hesitant, neither entirely sure of the other, until Charles grew more confident and moved to deepen the kiss. Max seemed to come alive then, one of his hands wrapping around Charles' waist to pull their bodies flush and the other tangling in his hair. Charles groaned into the kiss, pulling Max closer. There was a surge of heat leeching from his stomach out to his extremities, pooling in his chest as their lips continued to move against one another's.
Max pulled away and Charles moved to chase his lips, but the alpha began kissing down his chin towards his neck. He could feel him inhaling his scent before pressing open-mouthed kisses to the stretch of skin. He sucked a bit of Charles' flesh into his mouth, sending another flush of arousal through the omega. He clutched his shoulders, his fingernails digging into them through his shirt.
"Max," he moaned.
The other man suddenly stiffened and pulled away, looking down at Charles with an indecipherable expression.
"Max?" Charles asked with confusion.
The alpha closed his eyes and took a deep breath before extracting himself from Charles entirely. An embarrassing whine of protest left Charles at the action. Max swayed towards him as if the sound beckoned him forward, but then he took a decisive step back.
"We should get some sleep, shake off the wine, clear our heads. I'll see you in the morning," he proclaimed, quickly retreating from the room before Charles could protest.
He watched Max go with a heavy heart, falling back against the window. He felt his heart clench, but it was not the same as every other time he had been around Max. This time, there was an edge of pain, a sting from rejection.