Author's Note: Soooo sorry for the long delay getting this chapter posted. I won't bore you with a long winded explanation but suffice to say that I suffered the world's worst bit of writer's block with this fic until I finally came up with the idea to flip chapters 18 and 19 around. If you're still reading this...thanks for sticking with it, it's really appreciated!
Chapter 18
It's just after dinner and they've all moved to the sitting room to watch television when Raven decides that it's time.
It's been the same since they were children, each determined to make their sibling's birthday special regardless of circumstances. Sharon would sometimes remember to have one of the maids buy a gift while Kurt hardly cared to acknowledge their existence on a normal day. And so the delighted antics of a twelve and an eight year old their first year together became traditions they carried faithfully into adulthood.
She ropes Hank and Alex and Sean into helping her in the kitchen, preparing a giant sundae in lieu of a cake. They scoop an entire container each of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice cream into a large serving dish and then proceed to drown the entire thing with every topping they can find in the kitchen. There are peanuts, chocolate chips, fresh strawberries and sliced bananas, candies and caramel sauce and Sean is almost giddy as he adds the whipped cream and half a jar of cherries to finish it off.
They carry the sundae along with seven spoons – no bowls, because the whole point is to share – to the sitting room and Charles laughs delightedly as she and the boys and Moira sing a loud and slightly off-key rendition of 'Happy Birthday'. Everyone applauds when Charles blows out the single candle and then they all dig in, laughing as Alex and Sean try to see who can shove the most sundae into their mouths at once.
She catches Erik watching Charles with a faint smile on his lips and she would categorize the look on his face as fond if she didn't think the man incapable of such an emotion. Dropping next to Charles on the couch she picks up the last spoon and hands it to Erik with a grin. "Come on. You've got to try it too. Everyone has to have some birthday sundae."
Hank swallows his mouthful carefully and asks, "Why sundae and not birthday cake?"
Charles chuckles and wraps an arm around Raven's shoulder, his eyes lingering on Erik as the other man takes a small spoonful of vanilla ice cream. "We've always celebrated with birthday sundae. When we were kids we couldn't use the oven to bake so we had to come up with something we could both make."
"Didn't you have, I don't know, a cook or something?" Alex snatches the last cherry from the dish, causing a loud groan to erupt from Sean sitting next to him on the floor.
"I suppose we could have but the point was that we would do things for the other person on their birthday," Raven scoops a strawberry from the dish and pops it into Charles' mouth as she continues, "when we were kids we used to entertain each other with our mutations. And then once we were old enough to drive we would actually go out and celebrate; take the other person out for dinner or a movie."
Erik looks up at her words and she smiles, glad to see him show some interest in their conversation. He eyes Charles briefly before turning his attention to Raven and asks, "What did you do? With your mutations?"
"Raven would do impressions," Charles hugs her a bit tighter as he answers Erik with a warm smile of his own, "she was amazing. She would watch the staff for hours or someone on TV over and over until she perfected their voice and mannerisms. That was always the more difficult part to get right." He turns to her and places a kiss on her cheek before continuing with grin, "Your Einstein was definitely my favorite."
"Charles would laugh and laugh," she eyes the others with a mischievous grin before morphing into character with wild white hair and lab coat, looking every inch the brilliant scientist. "Mostly because I didn't know what he sounded like. I would use my own voice and make up all kinds of bogus science terms and then shout them while I did cartwheels down the hall."
They all burst into laughter, Raven's description supplemented by the memory Charles shares with everyone from his thirteenth birthday. Moira turns to him with a soft smile that seems just a touch too personal as Raven shifts back to her blond form. "And you, Charles? What did you do for Raven's birthdays?"
"Well I-"
"Charles would take me anywhere I wanted to go. In our minds with his telepathy," she jumps in with an explanation, shifting her brother's attention away from the pretty CIA agent. "If I wanted to go to the circus he could make it seem like we were really there! With elephants and a ring master and clowns! Or we would go swimming in the ocean and suntan on the beach. It was perfect."
They spend another hour telling jokes and sharing stories before Erik gets up and bids them all a good night with a brisk nod. The others take the opportunity to disband as well; Hank to his lab and Sean and Alex to the kitchen to grab another snack before bed, leaving Raven with Charles and Moira to clean up.
They gather the cutlery and empty glasses quietly, Charles glancing absently towards the door while Moira watches him with a keen focus. It's not that she doesn't like the other woman, Raven thinks, but she's not entirely sure that it's in her brother's best interest to get involved with a government agent. If she had to choose between her job and their safety, could Moira be counted on to put them first?
"Charles," her voice seems to pull him back to the present and he turns to her with a distracted smile. "Do you think you should check on Erik? He was pretty quiet tonight."
Moira chuckles as she stacks the dirty spoons on the now ravaged ice-cream dish. "He's quiet every night, Raven. Erik's not exactly the talkative type."
"I'm sure he'll be fine, love," Charles squeezes her arm gently before leading them towards the kitchen, arms loaded. "I'll speak to him before I turn in."
"All right. Just don't stay up all night talking about Shaw. It's your birthday, Charles. You deserve a break."
"No...don't worry. I'm sure there won't be any talking tonight."
He watches the party outside from a quiet corner in the sitting room, the sunlight pouring in through the large bay windows. It's a beautiful, late September day and the entire school is out on the manicured grounds celebrating their beloved Professor's birthday.
Erik has been watching them all morning, the whole mansion buzzing with excitement as teachers and students work together on preparations for the party. It's a tradition, Max tells him - breathless as he explained earlier during breakfast with Charles - that they celebrate every year with a picnic and afternoon of activities on the grounds.
"We play soccer and tag and Alex always organizes a treasure hunt! And we eat lunch outside on blankets on the grass and then Sean brings out the birthday cake and Daddy always lets me choose the first slice even though it's his birthday and not mine!"
The children are playing soccer now, with the teachers interspersed between the two teams. Max and Ororo are laughing as they chase after the ball, their own private team of two as they giggle and point at various antics on the field.
He's fascinated by the open display of everyone's mutations, as Hank leaps into the air to block the goal with his feet, knocking the ball away from the net. It sails high above the heads of Alex and his brother Scott, soaring fast and seemingly straight for Bobby's head before it stops abruptly and hangs in mid air. There are shouts of encouragement and mock indignation all around as Max grins mischievously before dropping the ball in front of the other boy, a mere inch before the wall of ice that's suddenly appeared in front of the would-be victim.
Charles is clapping and shouting from his place on the sidelines, his face alight with joy and fierce pride for their son and all his young charges. Mrs. Bradley sits next to him on the blanket, laughing as Charles blows the whistle to signal the end of the first half and then shifts out of the way as two sweaty, giddy bundles hurl themselves into the Professor's lap.
"It's strange isn't it?" Raven's voice is soft as she moves to stand beside him, eyes looking out at the mix of young and old, crowded around Charles as they all clamor for attention. "Watching him here at the School with his students. This is where he belongs; surrounded by people who love him and hang onto his every word." She turns to him and smirks but the look on her face is sad, not mocking. "When we were kids we dreamed about a place just like this, where we would be appreciated for our gifts and protected from people who hated us for being different. And now..."
"Now," he murmurs, taking both the offer and the promise laid out before him in pristine autumn greens and golds, "now that it actually exists, you're not sure you belong here."
Later, much later – after Max drags him and Raven outside to join in the festivities, sharing a slice of cake with his son as Charles looks on with amusement – he is finally alone with his ex-lover, sitting across the chess board in the study. In these last few days since Max found out about Cuba (and Erik promised to stay on at the mansion), Charles has stopped leaving immediately after their son heads up to bed. Neither of them address the sudden change to his routine; Erik only too happy to have Charles to himself even though their time together is filled mostly with long silences between turns.
He watches intently as Charles contemplates his next move, eyes sweeping over the remaining pieces as he takes a leisurely sip from his tea cup. Erik can't help but stare at him, cataloguing all the changes since their brief time together; grey hair creeping in around his temples, the fine webbing starting to show around his eyes, the muscle in his biceps straining against the fabric of his crisp long sleeved shirt. He's every bit as beautiful as Erik remembers and the rosy, nostalgic glow of his memories doesn't begin to do justice to the man that Charles Xavier has become in the last eight years.
The Professor chuckles, lips curving into a wry smile as he teases, "You're staring. Is there something on my face?"
He doesn't answer, though he does chuckle in response before getting out of his chair and towards the mantle above the fireplace. Erik pulls the package from its hiding place behind the large picture frame and hands it to the other man with a hesitant smile. "Happy Birthday."
Charles arches a brow at him but doesn't say a word, taking the gift from Erik and settling it onto his lap. He traces the edges of the wrapping paper gently with his fingers before tearing the package open to reveal a gorgeous, mint condition copy of 'The Once and Future King'.
"It's a signed copy I found it in a London bookstore a couple of years ago and it...made me think of you."
"Thank you, Erik," Charles beams at him with such warmth and appreciation that it hits him like a punch in the gut, reminding him of their relationship before he left, when Charles would light up with such delight and affection each time Erik opened himself up to the telepath. It fills him with shame and self loathing, to know that he's never really been able to show the other man the depth of his feelings; that Charles loved him anyway, when he knew how much Erik was holding himself back.
"You're welcome."
"It's the second nicest birthday present you've ever given me," Charles says with a sly smirk and Erik lets out a sharp bark of laughter, his mind taking him back to a night years ago when the two of them had celebrated the telepath's birthday into the early morning hours.
"Erik..."
He yanks Charles inside his room and kicks the door closed, manoeuvring the telepath until his back hits the wall and the hard line of Erik's body is pressed up against him.
"I'm going to fuck you, Charles," he breathes, sucking a bruise on the soft pale throat as the telepath bares his neck for Erik and moans. "Just like this, up against the wall. Strip you naked and turn you around and lick you open. Fuck you with my fingers until you're begging me. Begging me to slide my cock inside you and fuck you until you come. Would you like that? Do you want me to fuck you for your birthday, Charles?"
The telepath groans, mouth hot and slick as he kisses Erik roughly, hand rubbing teasingly against the other man's erection. "Yes. Fuck...yes! Best...ah...birthday present ever."
If Charles is aware of the direction of Erik's thoughts he gives no indication, his eyes glued to the book in his lap as he flips the pages idly. They sit in silence for a few minutes, until Erik leans forward and takes one of the telepath's hands.
"I'm sorry that I've missed so many birthdays. Yours and Max's."
Charles slides his hand around to grip Erik's, rubbing his thumb gently across scarred knuckles as he answers softly, "You're here now. That's...that helps."
"Will you share your memories with me?" he holds Charles' gaze, even as he moves to take both of the other man's hands into his own. "Will you show me what I've missed? All these years; there's so much I want to know about you and Max. I want this...please, Charles."
The telepath sighs, pulling away from Erik. "I'm sorry but I can't share my memories with you without going into your mind. And I promised you I would stay out of your head."
He frowns...if Erik didn't know better he would think Charles was using his earlier promise as an excuse to deny his request. "I appreciate you holding to your promise but I'm the one asking you. I'm giving you permission. Charles you must know that I trust you not to tamper with my thoughts. I wouldn't have stayed here these last few weeks without my helmet if that weren't the case."
"It's not...that's not the only reason," he rubs the bridge of his nose and lets out a frustrated breath. "The memories are tied to more than just the recollection of the events themselves. I can't separate what happened from what I was feeling and thinking; the events in my memory are as I experienced them. As I lived them and I can't...I'm sorry I just can't..."
Erik nods in understanding though he's a bit numb as the meaning behind Charles' words wash over him. "You don't trust me enough to open yourself up to me."
His ex-lover grimaces but doesn't offer a denial. Instead, he reaches for Erik's hand again and squeezes it gently. "Not 'never', darling. Just...not right now. I'm sorry."
And that's probably a better answer than he deserves.