Anote: Did my readers watch the Prometheus movie trailer as yet? Fassbender with blonde hair! My goodness! Not my first choice but I think he can pull off any look he wishes.

Chapter 10- If you knew me better part 2

Charles' rambling, unproductive, internal dialogue was interrupted when abruptly; the older man clapped a hand over his mouth and squeezed his eyes closed.

'ERIK!' he shouted out in concern, seeing that the man was turning a sickly shade of green under his pale skin.

The professor lunged across the man's chest, stretching his arm out to grab the emergency button that, OF COURSE, was located on the other side of the bed. He never made it as Erik clamped a strong arm across his back immobilizing him in position.

'Let me call for help!' Charles cried out, straining to reach the call device that was only millimeters away from his finger tips.

He was terrified as he could clearly feel every ragged breath that Erik struggled to take through their chest to chest contact.

'No doctors,' Erik managed to choke out. 'Just give me a minute.'

And indeed it was a long minute, as the older man groaned and focused on keeping his stomach to behave. With the throbbing headache that he was enduring, he knew that if he threw up now his head would most likely explode. Slowly the upset feeling cleared and he quickly realized that he was probably hurting the other man with his tight grip and instantly loosened his hold.

'Don't want anyone to come in here yet,' the older man explained haltingly between breaths, 'Just want to talk with you a little longer.'

Oh.

The silence made Erik open his eyes. Charles was only a few inches away, staring worriedly up at him.

'Please Charles?' he begged. 'I'm feeling better now. Truly I am.'

'Doesn't it bother you having a man lying on top of you?' the young man unexpectedly asked in return.

Erik's whole expression creased in confusion, and his eyes narrowed as he squinted down at the other man, 'Do you mean men in general or you specifically? '

The professor wished the ground could just open up and swallow him whole. He couldn't answer that question even if his life depended on it. As it was, he was using what little courage he had remaining to stay where he was and not scuttle off to hide in the nearest pile of laundry.

'Generally speaking, it doesn't really matter to me. What are you really asking me Xavier? Do you want to know my orientation? You could have just asked. If the sex is good, I don't care if it's a man or woman.'

Erik gently held the professor around his waist and lifted him the few inches so that now Charles could share his pillow. He was pleased that the man yielded to his touch so easily and without apparent fear.

'Forgive me,' the older man apologised into the man's ear. 'I can see that my crudeness has upset you. I could have stated that better.'

'No, no. It's fine,' the Charles squeaked out nervously, 'I've just never heard anyone talk about their sexuality like that before. Excellent, excellent, jolly good. Thank you for sharing.'

Carefully Erik turned his head to the side so now he was looking directly into the man's eyes.

'But you specifically….

He could see Charles' eyes darken, obviously surprised that this aspect of their conversation was still going on.

…you specifically I approve of. I think there would be very few that would not approve.'

Contemplatively, the young man propped up his head with one hand so that he could look down into Erik's face. 'That is such a very nice thing to say but Erik I can see in your eyes that the thought brings you no pleasure at all.'

The professor felt a cold heavy weight settle in his heart as the older man continued to stare up at him in silence. His face was impassive as ever, but at this close distance there was no way that Erik could hide the anguish that rolled in his storm coloured grey eyes.

'I thought you would be happy, knowing that you have my good opinion,' Erik evasively criticised.

Desperately seeking a way to break through this wall, the Englishman reached out to caress the man's cheek feeling the inevitable rough stubble under his thumb.

'Please Erik, please talk to me,' the smaller man implored.

The simple physical contact seemed to be having some affect because he could feel Erik shudder against him, suffering with the strain of keeping his emotions in check.

'If you knew me better,' Charles interjected using the same phrase the man had used earlier, 'you would know that you can tell me anything.'

For a bad little moment, he thought the other man was going to push him off and roll away from the question.

He had to lean in closer just to be able to catch Erik's answer.

'You don't know what I'm like Charles, not really' he explained desperately, 'If you knew what I was capable of, you wouldn't be here with me.'

The professor frowned and shook his head in automatic denial as Erik twisted away and reached under the covers.

'I admit that I don't know you as LONG as I have known others, but to know as WELL,' the younger man reasoned, obligingly reaching over to assist Erik in recovering the object he was trying to retrieve, 'I think that is a subjective condition, my friend.'

The patient finally settled Shaw's biographical data on his chest, protected seemingly under his outstretched fingers.

Charles was quietly thoughtful but Erik looked genuinely confused as if not sure what force had led him to his current course of action. Was he still being influenced by drugs?

The professor reached over and tapped Shaw's folder with a finger, 'I am going to conjecture that you are NOT writing a book.'

'No,' Erik admitted reluctantly.

The parole officer's warning flared loudly in his ears as Charles flipped open the front cover and proceeded to peruse the first few photographs he encountered. Gerard had insisted that the professor was in over his head and even though he would not admit it at the time, there was a part of the young man that had believed him. There was an untamed quality about his new friend that while sexually compelling was not completely reassuring giving the precarious state of affairs they found themselves in.

'Well naturally I am curious about this gentleman you seem so fascinated with and I hope that some day; hopefully VERY soon, you will tell me all about…'

'I won't be staying Charles,' the older man interrupted. 'I think it's important that you know that.'

The Englishman almost fell off the side rail in shock.

'SHIT!' Charles surprisingly cursed out loud. 'Surely you must be joking! You cannot break your parole! You will go back to prison!'

Erik exhaled nosily in frustration, closing the folder with one hand, 'I am not going to break my parole.'

Not satisfied with his conciliatory response, the professor frantically caught the man's jaw with his fingers so that he could have his undivided attention.

'Erik, do NOT do this to me! I have placed my reputation on the line to vouch for your good character. Please do not do anything foolish.'

The ex-prisoner wasn't about to explain this to the professor, but he had no intention of breaking his conditions because there was no way he was going to get close to Shaw if he was hounded by the judicial system from state to state. Erik had learnt the value of patience the hard way. What he was really trying to say was that he didn't want Charles to get too caught up in this fantasy he was creating inside his head because unfortunately, he couldn't stick around to participate.

'Erik I INSIST you give me your word!' the professor pleaded desperately.

'It is given,' the older man replied miserably. 'I am not going to break my parole.'

With that promise alone Charles could feel his heartbeat return to something resembling a normal human rhythm, and he opened his hand to release the other man.

Really!

What on EARTH was wrong with Erik today? Was he trying to kill him? Maybe HE needed a croissant and some tea!

Charles patted the man's chest comfortingly as the other man turned his head away. Perhaps he shouldn't have started yelling like that. Erik had wanted to tell him something but now that chance had clearly evaporated.

Dejectedly, the older man closed his eyes, trying to erase the look of disappointment that he had seen on his friend's face. Charles had always given him the benefit of the doubt since the day they met but now Erik could recognise that a shade of uncertainty had dimmed the brilliant blue eyes that up till now always twinkled with good humor and cheer. He wouldn't blame the professor one bit if he rescinded his kind invitation to recuperate in his home.

'There, there,' the professor mumbled a bit foolishly. 'Let's just concentrate on getting better shall we?'

As Erik absentmindedly focused on the door, he listened to the young man's words. Was Charles really trying to comfort him as if he were a stray kitten? It was truly silly in a completely charming way but Erik wished he wouldn't, even as he found himself smiling almost wistfully. Charles was going to make some lucky bastard a wonderful husband someday. 'Xavier, I have seen the way you look at me and I beg that you will not do this to yourself.'

The older man could feel Charles' body stiffen with shock.

Did the smaller really think he didn't know?

How could he not when every emotion the professor felt could so clearly be read in his blue eyes. In addition, the all too obvious, what is your orientation question, made it clear that the man harbored some small hope. Erik hadn't meant for his words to sound so harsh though. He had been struggling all morning for the right phrases and he had contemplated putting off the conversation all together because surely there was no need to make the other man unhappy.

Erik could sense that Charles was pulling away from him inch by inch and he didn't know what he could say or what he could do to stop it. He told himself, it was better this way. The professor was a good, kind man; he would find better; he deserved better! Charles would recover from his little bout of infatuation. In any case fate had already decided how Erik's life was going to play out.

Charles cleared his throat with a short cough as he pulled himself to a sitting position. 'I'm afraid, the only thing that you can see in MY eyes is the desperate need to pee and the desire to find some breakfast.'

He was a bit pale but appeared to be perfectly composed as the older man gripped his arm and waist to assist him in sliding safety off the bed.

Erik would have to get the nurses to rack the bed lower because he didn't want the Englishman to hurt himself, climbing in and out. That's IF Charles ever wanted to sleep with him again! That sudden realization was so acutely depressing that he was momentarily distracted when the other man picked up the folder from off his stomach.

'I am going to put this in my safe unless you want to talk about it some more,' the professor asked cautiously.

Erik threw out his hand, suddenly having a desperate need to re-establish physical contact with Charles again.

He was hard pressed not to beg as the smaller man justifiably hesitated and relief as he has never known flooded his veins as Charles reached over to lace their fingers together.

'You shouldn't worry about how I feel,' the professor offered generously with only the slightest of quivers in his voice. 'I will be alright.'

Erik felt like lowest life form on earth when he heard the professor's voice break apart.

'Do you want to sleep with your folder again?' he asked solicitously.

Erik blinked in an attempt to clear his head. For a second, he thought the young man had asked him if he wanted to sleep with him again.

Did he want Charles to come back here and sleep with him or did he want to cuddle up with Shaw's folder? And what kind of fucked up person would actually weigh those two options in their mind?

'No. Please put it in your safe'. His vendetta with Shaw had caused quite enough pain and trouble for one day in his opinion. 'Thank you Charles, thank you for everything.'

The professor momentarily forgot how to breathe as Erik unexpectedly pulled him closer to press a soft kiss on the back of his hand.