Once again Erik donned his borrowed tuxedo and headed to Shaw's rooms. It was the second time in he three weeks he'd been with the company that he'd received a dinner invitation from their illustrious boss. He'd been told, by Alex and Sean both, that it was basically unheard of for a worker to even get one. But he complied, no reason to make Shaw distrust him any more than he already did.

This dinner however, unlike the last, was a destination event. Shaw renting a car to take them farther from the train than Erik and been since arriving; he sat in the back with Charles who was dressed dashingly in a dark blue dinner jacket and vest, hair immaculately combed. They didn't talk, though they sat so close their elbows brushed on turns. Charles chatted with Shaw and the driver, and Erik supplied comments when prompted.

The exterior of the building they pulled alongside was dirty and dank, located in the bad end of the town. the steps down into the basement room were dark and the walls moist, there was a stale scent in the air that prompted Charles to hold his sleeve to his nose. Once they stepped fully inside however, it was like they'd been transported into a different world, one where luxuries like the giant crystal chandelier glittering in the centre of the domed ceiling and the full-length velvet wall hangings edged with gold tassels were common sights. Dark marble pillars soared above their heads and the floor shone a deep mahogany. Modern music played from hidden speakers, and well dressed couples spun across the dance floor.

Most impressive however, was the fully stocked bar on the far left wall. It rose from the floor, built from the same dark wood, inlaid with beautifully carved flowering vines. The shelves sunk into the wall behind the counter were full of every type of alcohol imaginable, some that Erik had never lain eyes on before. The tall counter was crowded with patrons, and an army of waiters in crisp white and black vests traversed the chamber balancing trays weighted down with decadent drinks.

Despite himself Erik found his eyes widening in awe, mouth beginning to water at the sight of labels printed in foreign languages and exotic designs, before mentally reigning himself in. He couldn't afford to get drunk again, not tonight with Shaw pulling him toward a booth to sit in the plush velvet circle of cushions.

So Erik controlled himself and nursed the colourful drink that Shaw had brought to their table. It was sweet and delicious and what Erik really wanted to do was tip it back and chug, but Charles had thankfully informed him, or rather stated to the entire table that, despite the fact that the sweet juice masked the flavour of the alcohol, it was actually a very potent drink.

Shaw however didn't seem inclined to show such restraint, and after finishing off his drink he also finished Charles' before grabbing the younger man and tugging him onto the dance floor.

Erik rose half out of his seat to stop them, terror clenching in his chest. Shaw and Charles couldn't dance together in public! It was dangerous, they'd surly be arrested! But Charles seemed to realize what Erik was thinking and turned to look over his shoulders and pin him in place with a shake of his head. He raised on hand and pointed over at the bar. Oh, of course, no one here would report them because that would be admitting that they'd been frequenting an illegal establishment.

Well, now Erik was rethinking his vow to stay sober, because watching Shaw waltz around the room with Charles wrapped in his arms, for once a genuine smile on both of their faces was proving to be not much fun at all. He hated moments like these, when you could squint your eyes and in the resulting haze Shaw might actually look pleasent and charming. They happened every once and a while and Erik would see all of his hard work crumble a bit as Charles responded with blinding smiles and innocent affection.

Just like he was going now, flushed and breathless as they spun, his eyes lit up giddily and beautifully and Erik ached to be in Shaw's position, to be able to lean forward, just like that, and kiss the laughing curve of his cheek.

To dispel temptation, Erik poured the rest of his drink into a nearby potted plant. He then waved a waiter over and ordered the cheapest beer on tap, which was still a decent quality logger, with a much lower alcohol percentage. And then, just because he could, he requested the smoked salmon and caviar starter and charged it to Shaw's bill. He tried his hardest to enjoy the food and pointedly not look at the spectacle on the floor in front of him. The appetizer was delicious, if a tad too salty, but Erik had always had a weakness for capers and had soon polished it off. Not long after Charles tumbled into the bench beside him, slightly winded and still pink-cheeked and miraculously alone.

"Oh good you've eaten," he said when he'd regained his composure, eying Erik's empty plate, "Sorry to leave you alone my friend, but Sebastian does so love to dance, I couldn't bare to say no. He's gone to get dinner ordered, I think he wanted to talk to the chef about something or other."

"Did you have fun?" Erik asked, forcing interest into his voice.

"Oh yes, I love dancing too. Irene, you've met her I believe, she taught me when I was a child and there's never really opportunity when we're touring, so yes, it's nice to have the excuse. Do you dance Erik?"

Hazy memories of his bar mitzvah at the tiny village synagogue over a decade ago. He hadn't yet hit the growth spurt that had sent him shooting to claim the title of tallest in his year at six feet when he was only fifteen. Back then he'd still been shorter than his tiny mother, much to his young chagrin, and he'd had to stretch up to take the lead position in the traditional dances around the crowded room.

"I used to."

"What's that even mean? You don't anymore?"

"I haven't in a very long time. The dances at uni weren't really my scene." Erik quirked a self deprecating grin. And it's not like he'd had the funds to come to places like this to foxtrot the night away.

"Shame." Charles sighed, pushing his hair back from where it had fallen into his eyes. Then his expression turned sly and he stood up again and held out his hand, "Well then, how about it?"

Erik blinked at him and stuttered out a protest, "I don't- it's been years...Charles I can't, but what-" he didn't straight out say that Shaw would be livid, but it hung in the air between them heavily.

"Don't be a killjoy Erik... haven't danced for years, what nonsense. Up you go, and try to have fun."

A new song started as Erik allowed himself to be manhandled from the booth and onto the floor. Charles, thankfully, didn't try for the middle of the room where the dancing was the most enthusiastic, loudest and most crowded. Instead he stopped at the back fringe of the dancers and turned to salute Erik with a playful bow. There was a small scuffle between them as they figured out where hands were to be placed, with a concurrent debate over who would be leading, (Charles argued crossly that he'd initiated the dance, but Erik held firm that he was taller) it ended with one of Charles' sturdy little hands cupped in Erik's, the other fisted on his shoulder, while Erik got to enjoy the warm curve of his hip underneath his fingers.

In the end they didn't properly dance as much as shuffle in circles and good naturedly mock each others incompetence. Because, as it turned out, Charles didn't actually know the proper steps to the songs as much as he simply enjoyed moving to them. That worked well enough for Erik, making his own poor footwork look remarkably competent in comparison.

As they stumbled across the floorboards in their loose embrace, Charles shaking with silent laughter with his eyes shut and mouth open, ducking his face against Erik's shoulder in a hopeless attempt to compose himself, Erik allowed his hand to move around him and settle in the small of his back. He stared down at he man in his arms and marveled silently that this person, this man had made him laugh more in the passed week than he had since his childhood. This carefree, joyful feeling that he inspired in him was fast becoming a sensation that he couldn't imagine living without.

He needed to know, needed some reassurance that he inspired something of the same feeling in Charles. He pressed his hand against his slim back, pushing their bodies together and Charles' face reappeared, laughter draining away to something more serious, blue eyes boring into his own and his mouth fell open at the same time as Erik's to say,

"Erik-"

"Charles-"

"RAID!"

The scream cut them off and in a split second Erik caught sight of Shaw's stoney face just metres away, and then Erik's hands were jerked from Charles as the crowd surged as one, panic setting in as people scrambled for the exits.

Erik reached desperately through the mass of people, eyes seeking the slight figure lost in the rush, "Charles!" he yelled, terror gripping him. They had to get out, they couldn't be caught, couldn't be arrested. But if Charles was left behind, if they got him it would be better if Erik was by his side. As long as Erik could get to him they'd be fine-

And then hands on him and Charles had his arm and was yanking him along with the crowd. They pushed and shoved and were pushed in return but at last they broke free of the horde as the crowd spilled into the night air of the alley. Charles made to run with the majority of the people, into the pitch of the allies behind the building but Erik seized him tighter and sprinted in the opposite direction, back toward the lights of the main road.

They turned onto the sidewalk and immediately slowed to the same casual stroll as the pedestrians around them. Erik quickly ripped his bow-tie out of his collar and urged Charles to do the same, removing their dinner jackets and rolling up the sleeves of their dress shirts. Satisfied that they looked more or less like they'd been enjoying an innocent dinner at one of the many legal establishments along the street, Erik and Charles continued on, making their way slowly but surly back toward the circus.

They made it at last to the gate where Tom Cassidy waved them in with a suspicious look. They kept up their brisk pace all the way to Charles tent, where they finally stopped inside the entrance and allowed themselves to breathe.

Charles let out a shaky laugh when he was done gasping in air, and virtually collapsed against the wooden support in the centre of the tent. "Oh god!" he wheezed, hand going to the collar of his shirt and twisting the fabric, "Erik, I thought we were done for! That was it, life in prison!"

"We're fine Charles, we're okay, they'll never know you were there." Erik reassured him, panting and slightly alarmed at the edge of hysteria in the other man's voice.

"Oh I know but my friend it was close! And Sebastian...do you think Sebastian got out alright? He was getting the food...I didn't see him in the rush. Oh Erik, when the warning went up and I lost you in that crowd my heart fairly stopped I believe."

Erik went to him and laid a hand on his shoulder, hoping to steady him. Charles leaned into the touch as if starved for an anchor, still breathless with slightly panicked laughter, and grabbed hold of Erik's shoulders. All at once the high-pitched giggles had abated into gasping sobs that wrenched at something deep inside Erik's chest.

"Ssssh" he murmured, gently running a hand through the disarray of curls that hovered under his nose. "Don't Charles, you're safe."

"Y-yes I know," he choked, tilting his chin up, and their faces were so close that his nose skimmed Erik's chin along the way, and it seemed so natural just to tug him that extra inch and touch his lips to his, almost no pressure applied, just a brush of skin.

For a fraction of a second Erik thought that Charles would respond. He could feel the body in his grip relax and lean into him, stuttering heartbeats mingling, but then Charles flinched away with a moan.

"I- no this isn't right...I can't! I'm sorry...Erik..." he moved away, to the other side of the tent with the wooden beam in between them like a shield. His hands were on his face, hiding his features from Erik's sight.

"Charles-"

"Please Erik! You need to leave now."

"I'm sorry Charles-"

"Goodnight Erik."

He left, the early summer air nipping at him after the warmth of Charles' small portable stove. He was shaking, he realized, with more than cold.