Warnings/Tags: mentions of abuse/domestic violence, fertility issues and death, moderate sexual content

Erik sat on the windowsill of his room, staring out into the night. Sometime during the haze of lust and high emotions, it began to rain. He watched the droplets fall with force to the ground, watched it soak into the soil. He sighed and wiped a hand across his forehead, sticky with dry sweat. Behind him, Charles was asleep, his naked body exposed atop the sheets. A rush of heat struck him as he thought about them a scant couple of hours before.

He did not know how much time passed by in a blur of lust-drunk kisses and skillful touches. He had stripped Charles down, examined every inch of his skin. He was not unblemished. He bore scars from what looked like whip marks and other injuries. He had at least four bites, faded but still visible as white raised scars. When Erik touched them, he didn't feel anything, didn't get the scent of another alpha. They simply existed as reminders that he was not Charles' first, but it didn't matter. He was who Charles wanted. Or Max Eisenhardt was.

Memories of Charles invaded his mind. Alive and willing underneath him, begging and receptive to every sensation, tight around his cock, pulling him in deeper, running his fingers through his hair and pressing, dare he say, loving kisses to the battle scars Erik had. The way Charles begged him to take him, to stay. They had not bonded, Erik had managed enough self-control to pull out before he knotted inside of him and did not bite into Charles' neck, no matter how much he wanted to. Now, he was here, filled with shame and regret. It felt wonderful in the moment, but every time he heard Charles call him Max, he remembered that this wasn't real. It couldn't be. Charles didn't even know his name, how could he genuinely want him? He had been living in a fantasy world. Staying here in Logan's inn had cast some kind of spell over him, made him forget that this was not what he was meant to be spending his time doing. He had a duty, a cause he was meant to be fighting for, no matter how forestalled the efforts were.

But Charles…

The lure towards this omega was not simple biology, it couldn't be. Anya thought they had a true bond. Literature and the Torah were rife with true bonds, while scientists seemed to believe it may have existed once but was a rarity now. Erik didn't give it merit at all. It was ridiculous, the kind of thing said to children to preserve their innocence. Still, he had met plenty of omegas before and was never drawn to them like this. He would not call it love, he couldn't, he didn't know what to call it. It was enough for him to forget his troubles, let the world around him cease to exist, and lose himself in Charles for a few hours.

Reality was hitting hard. He had just made this so much more difficult for himself. Now that he knew what he was leaving behind, he didn't know if he could go through with it. Even so, there was a looming truth hanging over them. No matter how much Charles claimed Erik's secrets didn't matter, they did. When he went home, his council would not be expecting him to bring along a foreign omega consort, a divorced one at that with a child. They would say it was unseemly, that he was irresponsible, that he was acting for himself and not Genosha, especially in what will be a fragile time of transition from Shaw's coup and his father's death to Erik's kingship.

Charles' political beliefs aligned with his for the most part, and when they disagreed, he could at least understand Charles' viewpoints. Erik already had his heirs, so there was no worry there. Still, Charles' past would be used against them both. His personal life would become public fodder for the Genoshan nobles at court. Erik could not thrust him into the limelight like that, especially if he was running away from a dangerous situation.

"Max?" A hoarse voice called from the bed.

Erik tried not to think of why his voice was rough, but failed, recalling warm lips wrapped around his length and shouts and moans of pleasure drawn from Charles' throat as Erik smothered the noise with his shoulder, the pillow and the sheets. He was thankful for the thunderstorm covering up the sound so the children didn't hear them, couldn't hear Charles' praises, curses, and the wrong name.

"Over here," Erik replied as Charles sat up.

He gave Erik a sleepy smile, which he returned involuntarily. Charles looked gorgeous, damn-near glowing. His hair was a mess, his blue eyes appeared brighter in the darkness, and his naked body called to the alpha spirit inside of Erik. It knew that he and Charles had not completed the bond between them, that Erik hadn't marked him, claimed him as his own for the world to see. He pushed down the urge to jump on the smaller man and ravish him once more.

"What are you doing up? If we don't get some sleep, the children will run roughshod over us tomorrow," Charles pointed out.

"I was watching the rain, making sure it wasn't pooling so it didn't flood the stables," he explained, returning his gaze to the wet earth beyond the glass.

He heard Charles rustling around and then footsteps approach him before Charles came to stand next to him, peering out the window as well. He didn't think or hesitate as he grabbed the shorter man around the waist and pulled him into his lap. Charles had brought the bedsheet with him. It acted as a barrier between their bare bodies. It was probably for the best. Charles settled deeper into his lap and they watched the rain silently, each absentmindedly stroking and kissing various parts of the other's body. Charles shivered in his hold as he pressed a kiss to the fading bite mark on his shoulder. He turned his head to him slightly but didn't look back, allowing Erik to linger over the raised skin.

"His name was Cain," Charles said, almost in a whisper.

"You don't have to tell me anything."

"I want to. I'm tired of staying silent for fear of him and my stepfather."

Erik nodded against his back, however reluctantly. They stayed this way as Charles spoke, not moving to face each other.

"I told you my father died when I was young. I was ten. He had started this new business venture. It was meant to help young Gifted children with controlling their powers, especially if they manifested early. That's how he met Kurt Marko. His son, Cain, was also Gifted. He had superstrength. My father wanted to help children like us. He wanted to open a school so these children could learn about their abilities alongside their general education. All Gifted children, not just the aristocracy. That was the first sticking point with Kurt. The other was that Kurt wanted to document us, keep track of us, and study us against my father's wishes."

"For what purpose?" Erik asked, feeling a sense of dread.

Genosha was a country that was friendlier to the Gifted, having been ruled by Gifted monarchs more than not. It was not so everywhere.

"He believed it was possible to cure people of their Gifts, like it was a disease. My father found out weeks before the school was to open. He and Kurt had a huge falling out and Kurt pulled his funding, so the school never opened. My father pressed on, determined to do it himself. A few weeks later, my father was dead. Days after the funeral, Cain and Kurt moved into my home in Salem. He claimed it was so he could help my family in our time of need. I could never prove with tangible evidence that Kurt was the one who killed him, or at least set it up, but I knew."

Charles waved his hand at his head, reminding Erik of his telepathy.

"That wasn't enough, not even for my mother. She married Kurt six months later. Kurt hated my sister and I, me especially. I was defiant and my telepathy scared him. Before he forced me to start taking suppressants, I would hear his thoughts. He planned to kill me if I turned out to be an alpha and marry me off to Cain if it was otherwise so he could keep my family's money, our estate, my father's research. He planned to get an heir and a spare out of me before disposing of me."

A growl of indignation passed Erik's lips at the blunt words. Righteous anger grew inside of him on Charles' behalf. If he ever found this Kurt Marko, he knew he would kill him. And yet this was just the beginning of the story. It got worse. Charles leaned back and pressed a soothing kiss to his forehead. Erik relaxed minutely and tightened his grip around the other man's waist.

"I started to rebel more and more as I grew older. I left Salem and went to university in York when I turned 16. I was nervous about leaving my sister. She is a shapeshifter but has a very visible mutation, blue skin, scales. As she grew older and had more control of her Gift, she was able to shift into what our mother deemed to be an acceptable form. Sharon seemed more affable towards her then and began taking her out into society. She loved to keep up appearances, and it would be unseemly for Raven to be anything but unblemished and perfect, so Kurt and Cain didn't lay a hand on her. Cain wasn't smart enough to join me at university. I had freedom in York. I made friends with scholars and other aristocrats there. I began having affairs and not being quiet about it. I wanted to embarrass Kurt enough for him to break the engagement. He didn't. After I finished university, I had decided to stay in York with a friend of mine, Lord Tony Stark. I had been living with him anyway. He had more money and power than my stepfamily and we got along famously well."

Erik felt a flare of jealousy. He had never been jealous of anything Charles said regarding his previous affairs before, so why now? Perhaps it was the fondness with which he said this man's name. What sort of name was Tony anyway?

"You're projecting."

Erik could hear the smirk of amusement in his voice. Embarrassment stabbed at him as Charles let out a small chuckle. He interlaced his fingers with the hand Erik had rested against his thigh and lifted it to kiss the alpha's palm.

"Anthony was just a friend. I lived on his estate with him and his mate, Virginia. I wasn't the only friend living there either. He made a habit of collecting people so he could fill up Stark Manor. It was outrageously large but depressingly empty, even with the army of servants," Charles reassured him.

"Please ignore me and continue. I'm being foolish."

"It's alright. I can't say I'll never be jealous of your past lovers."

The implication of the future. He didn't want to think about what was to come.

"At any rate, I didn't stay long in York. Sharon died and Kurt sent for me to be collected."

Charles' voice had quickly grown somber. Erik pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.

"I know you said you weren't close, but I'm sorry for the loss."

"Not much of one. She wasn't active in my life."

There was something in his voice that told Erik otherwise, but he didn't bother trying to dig into Charles' issues with his dead mother. He suspected it reflected his own complicated relationship with his father.

"When I got to Salem, Cain was somewhere else with Raven. Kurt told me he killed my father and my mother, he'd kill my sister too if I didn't do what he said. He told me I was to start retaking the suppressants and whatever else he wanted me to take. I was to do my duty as an omega and marry Cain, give him two children, and then I would be free to return to my life of sin. A silly lie, but I knew Cain really would kill Raven. She had heightened strength, but Cain was infinitely stronger. I left her behind for years so I could stick my head in books and drink and fuck with my rich friends. She would send me letters begging me to come back. She hated being Sharon's doll, her new means of gloating to her friends. I would send her gifts and money and hope that was enough. I didn't even visit for holidays. I was selfish."

"Charles—"

"I was. It's a fact. There's no need for you to try to make me feel better. I failed my sister. I couldn't let her die after I'd already abandoned her, so I agreed to do what Kurt wanted. I started taking the suppressants again. He got a doctor to prescribe me laudanum and something else opium-based to keep me docile and vacant. The only good thing I can say about that is I hardly remember much about my marriage. I remember Cain hitting me so hard sometimes that not even the drugs could keep me under. I remember doctor's visits, operations to fix bones he broke. I remember… I remember him inside of me and how much I hated it. The drugs couldn't take away how much I despised him. I wanted nothing more than to… I'm not a violent person, Max, I swear I'm not. I would never abuse my telepathy by hurting someone with it, but—"

"You don't have to justify your feelings to me," he reassured him, moving an arm across Charles' stomach to pull him more firmly to his chest.

Charles was shaking with emotion. Erik could feel tendrils of his telepathy leeching out from his control, letting Erik get a glimpse of his anger, heartache, hatred, and disgust. He had never thought this side of Charles existed. He wondered if Ruth had felt this way about Shinobi, if she lamented her misfortune to be born an omega, if she cursed the arrogant alpha who imposed his will on her life. He wondered if his sweet, innocent sister was forced to contemplate murder, just like Charles, who marveled in the existence of life within the smallest of creatures. It felt incongruous to what he learned about this man, mostly because this hatred, anger, and rage felt shockingly familiar. He recognized it in himself. It was the kind of emotion that Erik was sure he would've combusted from if he didn't get to unleash it upon his enemies. He didn't know how Charles refrained. How was he still here? Why hadn't he returned to Westchester the second he got the chance and obliterated the Markos for daring to cross him? His telepathy gave him an advantage many others didn't have, an opportunity for vengeance and escape. That mercy of his, was it weakness or strength?

"I got pregnant three times before David. I had two miscarriages. Cain was never gentle, even when I was pregnant. He didn't care, he just wanted to dominate me, hurt me. When I got pregnant the third time, Kurt started sending him away so I would carry to term. I did that third time, but all the drugs he was shoving down my throat had an adverse effect on my physical health. She was born early and lasted about a day. I held her while she struggled. I didn't need my telepathy to know she was in so much pain. I named her Cassandra. I held her when…"

Erik turned Charles to face him as he began shaking more violently. He held him tightly to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as he felt tears hitting his chest. They were silent as water continued hitting the ground outside with more and more ferocity. He could distantly hear the horses neighing anxiously at the turning weather.

"After Cassandra, I was more willing to take the doctor's drug cocktails. I didn't want to be cognizant of the world around me anymore. All I would think of was my daughter and the horror of her short life, blaming myself for not being strong enough to carry her, blaming the Markos for her death, wanting to avenge her. Raven was still there then, her life was still under threat so I knew I couldn't do anything. I decided to just drift away instead. It was easier."

Charles took a ragged breath against his chest, pausing as the weight of his past fell over him. Erik held him tighter, silently grounding him however he could.

"I don't remember a lot after that. I suppose things continued the same as they were: Cain taking what he wanted from me, using me as his punching bag when he pleased. Raven was married off and I never saw her again. She ran away from her husband and no one knows where she went. I don't remember much from my pregnancy with David. I remember giving birth and holding him, then the next two years are a blur until David's telepathy manifested. He pulled me out of the haze. I started planning to go away immediately when I got my bearings about me. I packed up David and myself, got some money and other belongings my father had stashed away, saddled a horse, and escaped. We managed to get to York, find refuge at Stark Manor. Tony knew a man working on safer forms of biological divorces. He did me the service, even though he risked losing his medical license for performing the divorce without Cain or Kurt's consent. Tony helped me plan my flight from Westchester to Genosha once I remembered Logan was here. Now here I am: disgraced, penniless, and probably destined for poverty. I'd rather live in squalor with my son over captive luxury with the Markos any day."

Charles let out a deep sigh as if telling the story left him drained of energy before he pulled back and looked up at Erik with a cautiously expectant gaze. Erik pressed a slow kiss to Charles' lips in response. He felt the omega relax against him and sigh into the kiss.

"Charles Xavier."

The other man made a noise of approval as he uttered his full birth name.

"You are amazing," Erik commented simply.

Charles shook his head, but Erik wouldn't allow it.

"To survive what you have and still be as kind as you are, that is a miracle. Most wouldn't be able to find anything good in this world after that. I know I wouldn't. I haven't suffered half of the indignities you have, and I'm filled with rage and bitterness, but you? You find beauty in something as simple as a feather."

"It was not just any feather, it was a white turtledove's. There are none in Westchester," Charles defended with a pout.

Erik chuckled at the expression and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"As I said, you are a rare soul."

Charles moved to settle himself in Erik's lap and pulled him in for another kiss.

"You don't scorn me for anything I've done, do you? For my promiscuity, abandoning my sister, my fertility failures, leaving my alpha behind, getting a divorce behind his back, taking our son. Others would say I turned my back on my duty, that I am tantamount to a criminal and a harlot, a bad investment at the least."

Erik bared his teeth involuntarily.

"Any man or woman who thought to shame you would have to answer to me. And I would not be near as kind as you."

Charles looked at him with an expression of appreciation and overwhelming adoration. He could smell Charles beginning to get aroused once more, his scent more prominent: black tea, cinnamon, roasting chestnuts, and the sweeter fragrance he had finally identified as strawberries. He pulled Charles into a kiss that was not as brash as their previous ones, but no less desirous. He could feel himself growing hard even as the scent of Charles' wetness filled his nostrils. He ripped away the blanket between them and settled Charles' opening over his cock. He could not help the groan of pleasure that left his throat as Charles sunk down, wet and hot, onto his length. Bursts of joy and pleasure went off in his head as the omega rode him, clutching onto his shoulders and moving his hips up and down, moaning deliciously into his ear.

The first times they'd had sex that night had been hard and frantic, both desperate to finally resolve the tension between them since they laid eyes on one another. This time it was softer, slower. Erik's fingers intertwined with Charles' as he pressed his lips to every surface of skin he could reach, delving his nose into Charles' neck where his scent was most potent, rocking up into him with a tenderness almost torturous to them both. He didn't have an urge to knot or claim. This felt sweeter, less driven by their chemistry and more by their minds and, HaShem help him, their hearts.

When they finally climaxed, Erik could feel Charles' mind just on the edge of his own. He had not violated Erik's request, had not pressed inside to see what was there and unwittingly learned the truth. Instead of going inside, Charles projected his feelings outward, giving Erik impressions of happiness, pleasure, ecstasy and… yes, that was love. He felt his heart clench in his chest. Charles couldn't love him, he shouldn't, it wasn't right. But Erik knew he felt it too.

It wasn't this way with Magda. Their relationship transformed slowly over years, progressing from acquaintances to friends to lovers. He never met someone he wanted so completely from the very start, who seemed to fit him with all the familiarity and comfort of an old woolen cloak.

"Max," Charles mumbled against his chest, sated and loose-limbed as Erik withdrew from inside of him.

"I know it's too soon to say and you probably don't feel the same, but I think I—"

Erik cut him off with a kiss, unable to hear those words from Charles, not with the secrets he still had. He needed to tell him, he knew it in his heart and soul. Charles deserved to know the truth.

He closed his eyes, knowing that this could ruin everything and kill whatever relationship was growing between them before it ever had a chance to start. But there was no chance, was there? Erik would return to take his throne. And what of the letter he sent to Sokovia? It wasn't a binding proposal, but if he showed up with Charles to the capital, it could reflect badly upon him. Who was to say Charles would want anything to do with him after learning the truth anyway? Charles expressed how much he hated Westchester's politics, hated the fakeness of it all, the pageantry. Genosha was not as bad as he described Westchester, but there was still a fair amount of subterfuge and backwoods dealings. It seemed to him that Charles wanted a quiet life after what he'd been through. His lifelong aspiration was to be a teacher, not a king's whore at worst, his paramour at best, prince consort in only his wildest fantasy.

"Max, are you alright?" Charles asked with concern.

Erik took a deep breath before answering.

"I'm not."

"I'm sorry if I pushed with saying, or almost saying—"

"It's not that. I meant that's not who I am," Erik confessed, opening his eyes to meet Charles' confused face.

"I don't know what you mean."

"My name isn't Max Eisenhardt."

Charles' eyes narrowed.

"What are you talking about?"

"It's a front. Max Eisenhardt? He doesn't exist. My name, my real name, is Erik Lehnsherr, prince of Genosha."

Charles stared at him for a long while before a smile graced his face and he started laughing. Erik watched him, a serious expression on his face.

"Well, that's hardly funny," Charles commented between giggles.

Erik continued to stare at him silently. Charles' laughter began to taper off as Erik didn't join him.

"Max—"

"Erik."

"Erik? Erik Lehnsherr? Prince of Genosha?"

"King in all but name with my father most likely killed in the attack on the capital."

"Attack?"

"Remember the battle you saw in Wanda's nightmare? One of the lords attacked the capital, Krakoa, took the throne."

Charles shook his head at him in disbelief as he stood up. Erik let him go and watched him walk over to the bed and grab Erik's shirt, throwing the larger garment over his head before pacing the room, glancing over at him a few times.

"I don't believe you. You're a blacksmith. You used to go into town and work at the forge."

"I was meeting my knights there to form a plan to take the capital back. Emma is one of those knights."

Charles shook his head again.

"Logan said that he first met you in battle. That you were a fellow soldier."

"That's true. We did fight together to defend the city of Lensberg against marauders. He knows who I am. He later joined me at court in Krakoa. I helped him escape persecution for his personal life. He's gathering military support for me now."

"Your hands, you don't have a noble's hands, let alone a royal's. I've met a fair amount of noblemen. None of them know what it's like to lift a finger for themselves. They don't have callouses or rough hands."

"I'm an alpha. I'm a fighter. I don't send men to do my fighting for me whilst I knit by the fire. I've been training with my sword since I was a boy. My hands wouldn't be unblemished."

Charles studied him for a long moment before shaking his head definitively.

"This is— it's ridiculous. It's absolutely ridiculous. You realize that, right? You are either lying or you're insane. You are not a liar, so you have suddenly been hit with a case of mania. That is what this is. You've gone mad. You've lost your bloody mind," Charles concluded, wildly gesticulating and pacing.

Erik sighed and moved to grab his pants as Charles continued muttering to himself hysterically. He approached the omega once he was covered and caught him by the shoulders, stopping his pacing and ranting.

"I could stand here and go over every minute detail to convince you that this is the truth, or you could just look for yourself."

Charles gazed up at him reluctantly.

"You don't like my telepathy," he replied weakly.

"I have no problem with it, I just didn't want you to see the truth, but now… look for yourself."

Charles held off for a moment and then he lifted his fingers to Erik's temples. He could feel when Charles pressed inside of his head. It was not the same as anything else he felt before. Emma's telepathy felt as cold as her outer exterior would have you believe. There was something more insidious about the way her Gift felt. You didn't know she was there the first few seconds and when she made herself known, the mind rebuffed her on instinct to protect itself, even when her intentions were pure. Elizabeth's telepathy was warmer than Emma's but felt sharper. There was an uncomfortable simmering current beneath her psionic presence that made Erik shy away. Jean's telepathy felt unbearably hot. He avoided it out of self-preservation more times than not. David's powers were wilder, not well controlled or defined, but not harmful, just chaotic to sort through.

Charles was nothing he felt before. He was warm inside Erik's mind, inviting him to open up to him rather than forcing his way into his thoughts. It was akin to a caress, a loving embrace. He allowed his thoughts and memories to flow over to Charles, almost lulled into giving him everything by the innocuous telepathic request he made. Even when there was a noticeable change in the emotion behind his telepathy, he remained a welcome presence in his head.

Charles pulled away from him abruptly and it took a moment for Erik to get his bearings about himself again. He opened his eyes, not realizing he closed them, and met Charles'. He was looking at him as if he had never seen him before.

"Prince Erik," Charles said, sounding sure of this fact now.

Erik's lip twisted unhappily. He had hoped to feel more fulfillment hearing his real name from Charles' lips.

Charles turned away from him and went over to the bed, dropping down slowly. Erik joined him after a moment, sitting next to him and waiting for Charles to speak. He didn't say anything though.

Neither spoke for the rest of the night.