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Upon feeling the ghost of warm lips on his, Erik frowned, mind in the serene realm merging the vivid dreamscape rather than awake, and then, without even opening his eyes, grabbed Charles by the lapels of his shirt and smashed their lips in the proper kiss, forcefully plundering the pliant mouth, worrying the other's lower lip between his teeth.
Erik, it's nice to see you too— came the mental voice and Erik shuddered, for a moment overcame with astonishment, when he let go of Charles' lips, but not of Charles as he pressed him close to his chest, the embrace must have been a bit insistent and suffocating, but Charles was not prone to complaining.
"You're fine!" he rasped, "Oh gods!" and one more thing, "And why are you still telepathic?"
"Maybe, because someone has called the mightiest demon ever to bring me back to life," hummed Charles into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, both amusement and gratitude dripping from his words in the strange tandem, "I suppose, the blood of the demon had that effect. Don't worry, my friend. It's limited to the skin-to-skin contact."
"There will be lots of skin-to-skin contact," grumbled Erik and tightened his hands round Charles, the other sprawled neatly on top of him, a perfect weigh, a perfect form, not mentioning the most gorgeous.
With a soft chuckle, Charles extricated himself from the grip, rolled to the side of the bed and, after getting to his feet, flashed Erik a wicked smile. The disheveled look on him — a pleasure for sore eyes.
"Come with me," offered he, "I know for sure, that you've been dreaming about food. So, I'll tell you everything you want to know in the kitchen."
On the way to the kitchen they have stopped to share the long, heated kiss and Erik has nearly tripped on the rug in excitement, Charles openly laughing at him, but Erik didn't let him get away with it as he took an extreme pleasure in rendering the other totally speechless.
"What day is it? And where are your er… I mean, Raven and the others?" asked Erik as soon as he gulped down the glass of juice and started cutting his omelet into nice, neat pieces — he didn't want to look like a savage in Charles' presence.
"Three days have passed," small content smile graced his lips, "since you've done it. Saved all of us, though I can't but mention the fact that, all in all, you've been too reckless."
Erik did not even try to deny it as he motioned Charles to continue.
In short, Alex, the brat, was still in the hospital, having seriously overtaxed himself and thus needed the full-scale treatment. Raven and Sean were back at school, and Hank was back in the basement, healing, while conducting another set of experiments. Shaw — dusted, the red demon — turned into decoration, read, dead. Splendid, decided Erik.
"Okay, this means that the house is basically ours for the time being," mildly concluded he, heart hammering like mad when Charles instantly shifted, averting his gaze.
"I might be a little busy now, when you've woken up," he confessed, reluctantly, "I need a couple of hours or so to sort out the paperwork. Sorry, Erik, but this is quite urgent."
He must have stayed by my side the whole time, understood Erik, and the estate and all the funds he was aware of… couldn't just manage themselves.
"Right, but I've promised you a week in bed," smirked Erik, smugly noting the way Charles bit on his lower lip, the sign of nervousness or, probably, anticipation.
"You did. Either way, you need to eat. Here," he pushed the plate with sandwiches in Erik's direction and added, oddly quiet, "I've touched his mind, Erik. I think you do remember what has happened that night, but the things I have seen…"
"Listen to me, Charles," Erik measured him with a long, hard stare, "brooding doesn't suit you. More than that, you're not responsible for the pack of stupid mages screwing up who knows how many thousand years ago. Also, who in their right mind might have known, that the first hunter was indeed a woman and hooked up with the demon from beyond, no less. Gods, I can't believe it even now and we're talking about my actual ancestors."
This is the case of the pot calling the kettle back, isn't it?
Ah, it's you. Long time no see. Erik sort of missed this nasty inner bastard.
"Perhaps, I suspected," murmured Charles running fingers through hair — a great distraction for Erik in particular, "the legends were so one-dimensional, you know what I mean. Every hunter…"
Not now.
He promptly stood up, circled the table and enveloped wide-eyed Charles in a hug. There was nothing sensual in it, and his back protested the uncomfortable stretch, but, more importantly, Charles has finally relaxed, tension vanishing from his limbs and hopefully from his mind — if not, well, Erik had an excellent remedy in store. Charles had suffered so much in Shaw's clutches, and yet he has never stopped smiling, or offering support to Erik, or looking after everyone and everything. He was truly amazing.
"You've heard it, right?" teased Erik, "Now, you can stop watching over me. I'm not going to keel over or something."
"You promise?" the murmur was muffled.
"You are very well aware that I can't," he took Charles' hand and helped him to his feet, "Neither can you. But I will try."
Charles nodded, expression stern and still fond when he looked up and laced their fingers together.
Me too…
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After the satisfyingly long, hot shower he fell asleep on the too soft couch, while reading the authentic "Prophetic powers and foreseeing correctly" recently supplied by Charles, and woke up freezing. The window in his room was wide open, and white, delicate snowflakes were melting on the windowsill and on the dark floor, tiny puddles of water reflecting the warm orange lamp light. When he came to the window to close it, the snide wind threw at him a chilly handful of snow, made him excessively cold, for there was a noticeable difference between the temperature inside and outside, in the surrounding darkness, where winter, it seemed, has decided to announce Christmas beforehand in a rather abrupt fashion. Nature is going mad these days, mused Erik, realizing that he's got no warm clothes and, anyway, after he did fulfill his promise to himself and to his mother, he suddenly found his life strangely empty. No, completely the opposite. For now, it was full of things he's never had before, and today in the afternoon he caught himself contemplating the idea of the regular job, his fate having dragged him here for some reason, so it must be keeping other options for him as well. The hell hole could use another hunter in any case.
Having walked up the stairs he has reached the dark corridor of the second floor — stopped, prior to knocking — weird, celebratory echo of fine mood so foreign to his mind and temper.
Man, what has become of you…
At the far end of the bedroom Charles was standing next to the great fireplace, fire roared and blazed when he bent, feeding it another log and aspiring sparkles to dance.
"Erik… I thought, well, that you would be resting," flame hummed, as if voicing its agreement, "Have you been outside yet? It appears, um, a new witch has come to our town, hence the phenomenal snowfall. Extraordinary, isn't it?"
"Quite," hoarsely managed Erik, deliberately striding closer. And he just kissed him without any preamble, taking hold of Charles' shoulders and purposefully walking him to the bed until they tumbled together and fell onto the neatly made covers, efficiently turning Charles' spacious lair into chaotic tumble of sheets and blankets.
Soon their respective clothes formed the ungraceful pile next to the bed and Erik finally relished in touching and mapping glorious pale skin as he had been generously offered reigns tonight.
I need you — he thought with burning intent, trailing gentle kisses along the graceful line of exposed neck, collarbones, chest, teasingly licking and sucking at each small bud until they became dark red and rigid, as Charles moaned, lithe body arching beneath Erik, demanding more. His lips brushed lower, tantalizingly slow, because as much as Erik ached to do it fast and hard like he used to, he wanted to capture it, to treasure every single moment, every sound and word coming from Charles belonged to him. Right here and right now. Charles whimpered when Erik's hand circled his cock and started pumping. Entirely satisfied with reaction Erik smirked and stilled his hand. When his tongue began exploring the stiff hardness he was positive that he has heard his name mixed up with more inarticulate sounds — the best award ever.
"Erik, I — can I?..."
If Erik wasn't smug before, he would definitely become now.
Charles looked deliciously strained, eyes huge on the pale face, his lips scarlet and swollen — the very definition of kissable, cock hard and leaking. In the half-light of the room he seemed so young, so innocent, despite everything Erik has been told by man himself and something he had figured on his own.
Unbelievable.
Erik leaned forward to plant another kiss on those tempting lips, just because he could.
"Good?" he asked, suddenly worried.
"You are actually, ah, asking me that," Charles got out, unconsciously arching into the touch, "I feel that what you're doing is, is unfair, umm, I…"
"How so?" his hand released Charles' cock and slid lower, caressing the most intimate place with the tip of one finger.
Charles shuddered and instantly tried to bring his knees together. By pressing his lips to the other's Erik has muffled the surprised gasp, and for a brief moment resumed their kiss, exploring that sweet, willing mouth, working his tongue deeper, making Charles relax into the touch.
You're doing all the work… That's why.
"Apparently, I'm not doing enough, if you're still this coherent," Erik whispered, lightly exasperated, and added for good measure. "Just to make it clear, Charles. I'm going to fuck you now," Charles has actually moaned right after hearing that, so Erik went on, encouraged by the clear display of want, "I'm going to fuck you with my cock. Fill you up to the brim," he stoked the puckered entrance, accentuating his words, felt the delicate muscle tense under his touch, "And I'm going to make sure that you like it."
"I believe, this is, umm… the most straight-forward approach I've ever heard of," murmured Charles, the look in his eyes positively undone, "not that, uh, I've heard much."
"Relax. Let me make you feel good, please."
This time Charles was the one to initiate the kiss.
Please, do.
Charles cried out loudly when Erik's fingers had hit his prostate, he jerked so Erik had to use one hand to hold him in place at the same time as his other hand was busy making his hole stretched and slick, as his fingers, three now, were sliding in and out of the tight, wet depth. The way Charles was writhing, calling his name both silently and aloud, the way he felt around his fingers was literally killing Erik with desperate, wild need.
Finally, finally he had Charles in the desirable position — spread before his gaze like the best Christmas present he has ever got; Erik leaned forward, pushing Charles' bent knees to his chest and pushing himself into the wet, tight hole, carefully watching blue eyes squeeze shut while his mouth remained half-open, wordless gasps filling the air.
"I love you," breathed out Erik, burying his cock to the hilt — gods, he felt he could come just from that alone.
The impact of his words made Charles' eyes snap open and he reached for Erik's face, his touch as tender and loving as it has always been.
"I already know," he said softly, gazing up at Erik like he was the most wonderful being in the universe.
The spell broke when Erik moved. Both of them have been caught up in the fire, gasping, moaning and clutching each other hard. In the heated frenzy, the realization struck Erik that this time during sex he had absolutely forgotten to keep tabs on his strength, constantly afraid to hurt a partner in the moment of passion. But now he was with Charles, who has just bitten on his shoulder, and Erik made a strangled surprised sound, because he really, genuenly liked it. So he let go. Completely.
They couldn't move for a while, joined in every possible way, and while the residual bliss was still circulating in his blood-stream, Erik though that if it was possible, he could die of pleasure right now.
So a week, is it?
Erik felt his lips stretching into a predatory grin on their own accord. He rolled on to his back, taking Charles with him, and laughed with pure joy, feeling something loosen up in his chest, deep inside the place they call a human soul.
His frame felt lighter, like he got the ability to fly all of the sudden.
Erik cradled Charles' face in his hands and said, schooling his features into the dead-serious mask, stupid smile threatening to break through the entire act.
"Absolutely right, Charles. Hunter always keeps his word."
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The End
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