Old Habits
Erik was a determined man. A patient one too. He had systematically tracked down everyone connected to Shaw until he found the man himself – with a little help from a certain telepath – and killed him as he'd sworn he would sixteen years earlier. Then he'd survived ten years in that blank prison cell underneath the Pentagon where it would've been so simple, so easy to go mad. And he'd waited eleven years before he admitted to Charles that he loved him. Yes, Erik knew all about being patient and determined.
And secrets. Which was how he'd managed it.
It had been surprisingly difficult, keeping it secret from Charles. Not because Charles was a telepath – despite having Erik's permission to enter his head, Charles rarely did so out of respect from him – but because he simply didn't want to keep anything from Charles. They'd laid the foundations for a relationship built on trust, which had only been further strengthened by their recent trip to Auschwitz. It was the first time he'd ever broken down to anyone about what had happened to him that day. He'd never even spoken about it to Marya, despite the fact that she too had suffered there and lost several of her own family members.
As he climbed the stairs to the first floor apartment that had become home, Erik ran his fingers over the velvet covered box in his pocket. After weeks of working extra shifts and late nights – which, contrary to what he'd told Charles, where at his request not that of his supervisor – in order to make some extra money. It had been almost painful, losing so much time with Charles. But it would be worth it, Erik hoped, for Charles' expression when he presented him with the results.
"Marry me," Charles said.
Erik stared at him. Of all the things he'd expected to hear in that moment, that was not one of them.
"I know we can't, not yet," Charles continued. "But I have faith that one day, somewhere, we will be able to get married. And I would very much like to marry you when that day comes."
"Yes," Erik replied.
Charles gave him a winning smile, before leaning forward and kissing him enthusiastically.
After finishing the dinner Charles had prepared while Erik showered, Erik shooed the telepath away, insisting on clearing away the dishes himself. He dropped the plates into the sink, pausing to reach into his pocket to check on the box again as he had several times since transferring them from his work jeans to his chinos in the bathroom.
"I've missed you," Charles called, transferring himself from his wheelchair onto the bed. There was no room in their tiny studio apartment for a sofa, so the bed had to double up. "All those extra shifts. How much longer will that be going on?"
"No longer," Erik replied.
"Really?" Charles grinned. "Splendid."
"Actually," Erik continued, stepping out of the kitchenette. "I have a confession to make on that front."
Charles frowned.
"I asked for the extra shifts," Erik explained. He slowly crossed the room until he sat on his own side of the bed. "They weren't compulsory."
"Then why...?" Charles asked.
"Because I was saving," Erik replied. "For these."
Charles wasn't sure whether to be worried or angry that Erik had lied about working late. It sounded like something out of a typical romance novel. But this was Erik for heavens sake! He watched Erik reach into his pocket and pull out a small, blue velvet covered box. He flicked it open and held it out.
"Oh Erik," Charles breathed. "They're beautiful."
"You like them?" Erik asked gruffly.
"I love them," Charles insisted.
A pair of matching rings sat in the box, a pale yellow gold with a single diamond embedded in the band. They were perfectly innocuous to anyone else, but to them they signalled a promise and so much more. Charles felt his breath catch in his throat.
"You didn't make them?" he croaked.
"That would've been easy," Erik replied. "Using my powers, it's simple. I wanted to work for them, to show you that-"
Before he could finish, Charles cut him off by pulling him into a kiss.
"God, I love you," he muttered when they broke apart.
"I'll make the ones for our wedding," Erik promised.
Charles laughed, then Erik flicked his wrist and the rings floated into the air between them. Charles caught one and slipped it onto Erik's ring finger. The feeling of the metal on his skin was soothing to him, and he couldn't deny the smile it inspired, nor how it spread into a grin as he placed its partner onto Charles' finger.
"One day," Erik promised.
"One day," Charles agreed.