WordCount: 2,960
ChapterTwo: Charles Has Secrets
By the time Erik wandered into the lounge, Charles was already up and tapping away on the computer. At first it had looked as though Charles had been uploading something onto the Oxford University website (which was intriguing in itself), but when Erik looked again, Charles had hit the save button and closed the page down. As he turned to face Erik, nothing about Charles' expression suggesting he had been up to no good, and instead of explaining what he'd been doing, he held up a flyer.
"Were you planning on going here tonight?" Charles asked looking at the flyer. "I've heard it's amazing."
Erik felt himself catch his breath. The flyer was a left over promotional item from the opening of Hellfire. Erik had been certain he'd gotten rid of all the evidence before had Charles arrived, but obviously he'd been amiss somewhere. And here in lay the problem, which when Erik thought about it, never failed to seem bizarre. For all their easy friendship, neither he nor Charles had ever discussed what either of them did for a living. The strange choice of taboo subject had not been Erik's idea, he had no desire to be keeping his life a secret, but rather it was Charles' evasive behaviour that had brought it about. Since Charles never mentioned how he made his money, Erik had done the courtesy of never asking.
Charles had never been interested in what Erik did for a living either, although he had probably guessed from the late hours Erik kept. Also from the selection of books he kept on his bookshelf, there were plenty of clues. But although Erik was finally making a good living now, when it came to being able to spend money without flinching, he had to admit Charles left him in the dust. Whatever Charles did, he was certainly being paid well for it.
The evidence came from the fact that Charles liked his clothes to have nice labels attached. They had spent a few Saturday mornings wandering around the Jack Wills store, where to his amusement, Erik discovered that Charles was extremely partial to the sweat pants. He also liked his shiny 'pulling shoes' to come from Ralph Lauren, along with owning multiple polo shirts of many colours. Erik thought Charles dressed like he was running for a Young English Gentleman of the Year Award, and her personally appreciated every inch of it. Charles knew how to make himself look nice, and Erik wasn't opposed to looking. Today he was wearing his tight jeans and dark blue boat shoes. Shopping with Charles was always interesting, he liked to spend money and he didn't care who knew. Therefore, talking about spending money was usually a failsafe topic.
"I thought I might drop in," Erik replied nonchalantly. He saw Charles raise an eyebrow.
"Drop in? That's very funny," Charles replied with a short mocking laugh.
Erik shrugged; he didn't really feel like explaining his business right now, especially after it had all been a secret for so long. Charles was unlikely to go anyway, and if he did, he'd spend most of the night in the queue outside. Or at least he would unless Erik fessed up and put him on the guest list. He opened his mouth to say something, since this would be a perfect time to tell Charles everything, and for it not to be strange… but Charles got there first.
"I hope you don't mind, but I already placed our orders," Charles continued, dropping the flyer on the table. It slid through the air before landing by the computer mouse and lying still. "My sister is bringing the coffee over, in apology for abandoning me last night," Charles replied, and then added after a pause, "I hope you don't mind?"
Erik shook his head. It was rare that Charles mentioned his sister, but Erik knew far more about Raven than he did about Charles' life. Raven didn't resemble her brother in any small way, she was blonde where he was dark, and predisposed to be surly where he was welcoming. Unlike Charles, twenty two year old Raven made no secret of her ambition and what she was doing with her life, which was trying to break into the West End theatre scene. But while she and Charles seemed to have very little in common, they both shared a love partying; much to their detriment Erik was sure. It was because of Raven that Charles came to London in the first place, so Erik was already predisposed to like her, and be thankful.
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door, and Erik supposed that was the signal for him to answer it. The blonde girl on the other side had the biggest smile on her face that Erik had ever seen, and she thrust a cup of coffee at him as soon as she could.
"Special delivery!" she announced, ignoring the fact that she had almost exploded the cup of scorching liquid into Erik's hand, and strode into the flat before being invited. "Hey Charles, you finally made it here then?"
Charles abandoned the now hibernating computer and took a drink from the holder Raven was carrying. Erik noted how Raven didn't try to burn Charles' hands.
"You remember my roommate don't you Raven, Erik," Charles said politely, even though the introduction was unnecessary. Erik knew Charles was only saying such to remind her to be polite. Raven nodded.
"Of course," she replied as she flopped down on the sofa. "I'd hardly forget Erik." She gave her brother a wicked smile, before picking up one of Charles' boring magazines, and looking through it with an unimpressed expression on her face.
Erik was another person that Charles insisted on her keeping her mouth shut around. Just like with everyone else they happened to meet whilst Charles was visiting. Charles didn't like anyone in London knowing who he was, or where he really lived, or that he was a professor at Oxford University. Raven thought that was fair enough, but when it came to Erik, and the amount of time Charles spent talking about him, and making dreamy faces whenever the man was near him, Raven thought the rule was kind of stupid.
Raven supposed, it wouldn't do Charles' career any good if it came out that he was out on the town every weekend, doing God only knew what. Even Raven didn't know half of what Charles got up to, since he often abandoned her and went off to do his own thing. But what annoyed Raven most about her brother was the fact that although he was now twenty-eight, he passed for a lot younger. This appeared to work to his 'benefit', when it came to getting attention, and attention was what Charles loved.
His favourite haunt was London's gay scene, it was always more vibrant and had the best parties, well according to Charles. Raven often spent many nights searching for him, after he had found some older man willing to buy his drinks all night long. Why? Raven didn't know. Charles was perfectly capable of buying his own, but Charles rarely made any logical sense, so who knew. Mostly the men Charles met were left standing with depleted wallets and nothing to show for it. It seemed that that in itself seemed to be the game. And to be fair… who hadn't played that one? But how Charles hadn't been punched in the face yet for his less than honourable behaviour, Raven didn't know.
Raven might have had a big mouth, but even she could see why Charles wouldn't want to publicise his secret life to his Oxford peers. Actually, when it came down to it, it made perfect sense to keep these 'lives' separate, and the only thing really linking them together was Erik. Maybe Charles was afraid of what Erik would think if he was told the truth? After all, Raven thought, Charles must like living with Erik, since he kept on coming back.
Raven threw the magazine down, and looked around. Erik's flat was nice place. Everything in it was new and had been chosen with great care. But it was clearly a bachelor pad, a bit too much monochrome going on for her tastes, but other than that, she could have happily moved in too. It was on her way back from the kitchen to fetch a biscuit, that Raven noticed the flyer.
"Oh my God, everyone is taking about this place," Raven said looking longingly at the paper. She handed it to Charles. "I wish we could go. But we'd never get in. I know. The girls at work said the queue was right around the block last night, and that was a Friday night."
"I thought you might," Charles said smiling. "So I managed to get our names on the guest list."
Raven screamed in delight, and balled her hands into fists as if she was about to punch the air. Erik knew that he had to come clean now, there was no way he could keep up this charade of pretence any longer, and there really was no need for it. But as before, he couldn't get a word in.
"Are you serious Charles? We're really going? Oh my God I have to go home and get ready!" she squealed excitedly, grabbing her bag and hurrying to the door.
"You're got at least seven hours Raven," Charles called after her.
Erik knew he was running out of opportunity to say he was the host of the party Charles desperately wanted to get into tonight, but still, it felt odd to say. If Charles had his name down at the door, then he obviously knew someone on the inside. He'd be in the VIP section of the club, and there would be nowhere for Erik to hide. Not that he didn't want to spend time with Charles, only, he hadn't been on a night out with the man since the incident some months ago.
Erik referred to it as the incident because it was not a pleasant memory for him. It had involved lots of alcohol and making a drunken pass at Charles. One that was quickly shot down, when Charles revealed that he was involved with someone who wouldn't appreciate the competition. Erik knew enough of the London underworld to know that there could be some very powerful enemies to be made, and since he had wanted his club to a success, he hadn't pressed the issue. Charles' partner might have had the means to bury him in more ways than one, and although this might still be true, Erik wished he had made more of a play for Charles and made his interest known. Because now, there was just an awkward silence upon the subject, and Erik was too discouraged to try again.
Charles was looking at him now as if he suspected Erik had something to say, but again it would have to wait. Erik's phone was ringing and it was Sebastian Shaw. For a moment he considered ignoring the call, and staying to hang out with Charles. But that would be dangerous; pissing off Shaw was never pretty, as he had found out only too recently when the bottles of champagne almost didn't arrive in time for opening night. It was hardly Erik's fault, but the temper on the man wasn't worth baiting. So he turned his back on Charles and answered the phone.
"We need to meet to discuss business."
"Where?" Erik asked, although he bet he knew the answer to that already.
"The club, I'll see you in the red bar," Shaw replied before ending the call. The fact that he gave no time for the meeting meant that Erik needed to leave now, and could be waiting for hours before Shaw decided to show up.
"I'm going to have to go out," Erik told Charles. "I probably wont be back tonight."
Erik saw the light in Charles eyes dim, as his smile faded away. Erik knew he had disappointed him, and it lifted his heart to think that Charles had enjoyed his company enough to miss him.
"Oh," Charles replied.
"I hope you have a good night," Erik said, before looking over his shoulder once more at the mysterious man on his sofa, one last chance to tell him the truth. Erik shrugged. He'd find Charles tonight and surprise him, he couldn't keep Shaw waiting.
Sebastian Shaw made him wait for an hour, but it wasn't all bad. Erik was able to sample some of the food on the menu, and partake in some pre party cocktails. By the time Shaw finally arrived, Erik had forgotten he was supposed to be discussing business, but the stack of files beside him didn't let the fact be forgotten for long. It was best to be prepared for these impromptu meetings, since he never knew what was going to be on the agenda.
Today it seemed as if Shaw was in a good mood. As he went through the accounts, he tapped his foot against the side of the bar, and every now and then he ran his hand through his hair. If Erik didn't know better, he would have said that Shaw was nervous. But of what, Erik had no idea. It certainly wasn't himcausing this. As Shaw continued to read, Erik found himself daydreaming. His mind travelled back to the flat, and he tried to imagine what Charles might be doing now. Was he eating, or watching the TV? Was he reading his intellectual magazines, or was he on the phone to Raven? Had Erik been able to stay, maybe they could have done all of those things together. Maybe he would have revealed his 'secret', and taken Charles to his club properly. There was no reason why he wouldn't have. But Shaw was talking again, and the papers had been abandoned on the bar.
"We have made excellent profits already," Shaw was saying. "You were worth your fee Lensherr,"
Erik didn't reply. He had noticed that Shaw liked to talk about people as if he owned them. His view that he could buy and sell anything didn't seem to exclude people, and when he employed someone, he expected them to be devoted to him. Since Erik was a borderline workaholic there was no risk of him losing his job, but others hadn't been so lucky. Already they had fired two bouncers for being too lax, and some of the bar staff for not being quick enough turning around money for drinks.
"I am glad you think so," Erik replied, trying not to sound annoyed.
"Tonight will be even better Erik. We'll take more money, the press will be more relaxed, and I'll be finally getting my hands on him."
Erik nodded along not paying much attention, and then suddenly his brain caught up. Had he heard that right?
"What?" he asked, eloquence be damned, what Shaw had just said was bizarre. "Hands on who?"
"Just someone I have perusing for a long time," Shaw replied offhandedly. Erik thought that was going to be the end of the explanation, but then Shaw continued. "For months now he has been giving me the slip, playing hard to get. Just to make it worse I know he has been screwing other men whilst stringing me along."
Erik picked up his drink from lack of anything better to do with his hands. This conversation was getting very uncomfortable, and this was far more information than he was willing to hear about his boss. Plus whomever this other man was, who wasn't giving Shaw what he wanted, Erik hoped he knew what he was in for tonight, as there was an evil glint in Shaw's eye. But who in their right mind would intentionally lead Shaw on, and not only that, see other men at the same time? They would have to have a death wish, surely?
"But he is coming here tonight, I've put his name on the door, and sent him an invite," Shaw said. He was grinning in a way that gave Erik the shivers.
"Won't he suspect?"
"No, the little bastard is out every weekend. He's known on the scene for spending idiotic amounts of money. Loads of clubs let him in for free, he'll suspect nothing, and then I'll surprise him."
Again Erik felt his stomach churn. He suddenly felt pity for the little creature that was about to be caught in this horrible spider's web. Erik wondered why Shaw would go to so much trouble over someone. Exactly who the hell was this man that was making Shaw all psycho?
"So, what is this guy's name then? I'll look out for him for you," Erik offered. Maybe he could warn him off, and send him home before Shaw found him?
But Erik's blood ran cold, as the glint in Shaw's eye flashed towards him, and he said, "Charles."
Erik knew instantly, that Shaw meant his Charles, and he was heading straight into a trap.
"Charles Xavier," Shaw elaborated.
Oh God, Erik though. He suddenly understood why Shaw was behaving like someone possessed, Erik had no doubt that Charles was perfectly able to mess with someone's head. Even when Charles was in the same room as him, he was always just out of reach. He would drive Shaw mad.
"Yes, look out for him if you like Erik, but understand that he is mine," Shaw said, going back to reading the papers in front of him. "And you know what I expect from those I own."
Erik nodded numbly. What the hell was Charles thinking getting involved with this man? What was he thinking not giving him what he wanted? Erik now changed his view on what would make this night a success. Never mind the bar takings, if he and Charles made it through alive, then he'd count the night as a win.