After a very poor night's sleep, Charles lay in bed. The argument he'd had with Erik the night before had left him feeling drained and a little overwhelmed. Both by the topics and the ability Erik had of feeling things so strongly that it felt like his emotions were punching into Charles's brain. Just seeing Erik again was discombobulating. Charles looked at the phone on his bed stand for a moment and considered calling the therapist he had started seeing after becoming paralyzed. Charles was overwhelmed, but not enough to call he decided. He'd wait until their scheduled appointment.
Bracing his hands against the mattress Charles pulled himself into a sitting position in bed. As he went through the arduous task of transferring to his chair and getting ready for the day he found himself unable to think about anything other than the sudden twists and turns that last night's conversation had taken. Which had resulted in Erik leaving the house for some hours before Charles had sensed the other man's return. In the wake of Cuba Erik's sudden departure last night had hurt. Being alone was something Charles had never liked, nine months ago Erik had proposed that his aversion to being alone was an aspect of Charles's mutation. Then the other man had abandoned him, and he'd lost everyone who'd ever meant anything to him, all in the course of weeks, a day, a few minutes really and this had left Charles in a depressed state. He pulled his thoughts away from being abandoned in Cuba, he didn't want to dwell on that. Charles finished doing up the buttons on his sky blue shirt, leaving the top two buttons undone. He'd never liked tight fitting things around his neck, they always made him feel like he was being strangled.
Brushing his hair he also tried to turn his thoughts away from Erik, who seemed to be preoccupying his mind almost constantly the last day and a half. After the realization he'd had last night about Erik's psychological state Charles wanted to talk more to him about it. Only he didn't know how he'd bring up such a sensitive subject. Pulling his thoughts away from Erik once again Charles refocused on Trask.
Trask was the eminent threat. He was hunting Mutants, both adults and children, why? Mutants were suddenly being connected to pro-communist attacks, why? It was obvious someone was trying to pull the strings of global superpowers, just like Shaw had tried to do nine months ago, but in what direction and to what end? Trask was also hunting down Charles himself, why?
Frowning in thought as he wheeled himself from his bedroom, currently on the ground floor, and into his office Charles wondered what happened to the Mutants once they were caught. Putting a hand to his temple Charles called into Hank's mind, the other Mutant was down in the new lab. The lab was currently situated in the basement bomb-shelter that Charles' step-father, Henry Chesterfield, had installed at the beginning of the cold war.
"Hank," Charles said into the other man's mind. He felt the radiating surprise in Hank's mind at being contacted telepathically before Hank replied.
"Do you need something Charles, I'm busy?" Hank asked.
"Yes, can you come up to my office when you have a moment please?" A minute later Hank was popping his head inside the office door. "Come in Hank." Charles gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk. What he had to say was best done in person and not mind to mind.
"What do you need, Charles, I'm kind of busy?" Hank reiterated but took the seat.
"Yes, sorry to interrupt Hank, but I've been thinking about our Cerebro problem." Charles leaned his forearms on his chair.
"Me too, that's what I've been working on. I think maybe if I get some military grade phosphorus it would-"
"I'm sorry to cut you off Hank but, no, we're not dealing with anything quite so dangerous here. Especially when we have a house full of children and a Mutant who can control metal at our disposal." Charles folded his hands together and watched the look of horror that crossed Hank's face at his suggestion.
"Erik?" Hank's disbelief was clear and his tone was as if Charles was asking him to jump into a frozen lake.
"Yes," Charles said simply.
"No, he's a psycho, you were there in Cuba, you saw what he did, I-"
Charles cut Hank off again. "Hank, it's important we get the Cerebro working, with it I might be able to find out what's going on with these Mutants disappearing. I know some of their minds, I think I might be able to locate them. They could be in grave danger. If that means asking Erik for help then we ask. I've made up my mind on this Hank." Charles smoothly steam rolled Hank's protests until he saw the will to argue die in the other Mutant's eyes and Hank grumpily got to his feet muttering.
"Fine, I'll go ask, but I'm against this and if he does something terrible to my machine, — which he will, — and it electrocutes you, then it's his fault not mine." And with that Hank left the office.
Charles sat back in his chair and let out a sigh. Well, the hard part was over. Tipping his head back Charles looked at the ceiling. He found himself thinking over his conversation with Erik from last night, again .
In some ways Charles felt like for the first time since meeting the other Mutants he was actually starting to understand the part of Erik that had always eluded him. The argument they had last night had revealed to Charles that his initial instincts about Erik were correct. Erik was not just a madman or psycho as Charles had found himself feeling and fearing after Cuba. Instead, Erik was locked into a mental state of fear, locked into a conflict that was long over and yet Erik couldn't seem to find his way out of it. The dark world in which Erik had been made to live while a boy was still the way he saw the world even today. Shaw had twisted Erik's perception of the world. And Shaw had done so to a degree that was far beyond what Charles had been able to see when he and Erik had first met.
Charles still had a lot of anger over what had happened, how things had gone down, how the man he loved had almost destroyed the world. A brief vision of rockets hanging in the air came to Charles and he tried not to see the mushroom cloud that would have inevitably followed the destruction of the 7th fleet and the Russian naval vessels. Both countries would have unleashed nuclear war across the globe. It scared Charles even now, how willing, so easily willing, Erik had been to destroy everything. No one in their right mind would have done that, Erik must not have been in his right mind.
The Russian Generals compound should have been a tip off. Erik had run into certain danger to face a woman who could easily physically and mentally overpower him. Erik had left behind his allies knowing there would be no back up. Charles had thought at the time it was just a misguided sense of how urgent the situation was that had made Erik act so recklessly, or maybe over confidence. Now, after last night's conversation, Charles thought it was desperation, a desperation so deep that it drove Erik to do dangerous and reckless things. At that time Charles had not understood just how deep Shaw was in Erik's psyche.
Whatever had happened between Erik and Shaw in the conversation aboard the submarine had made Erik lose his mind. The terrible words Erik had spoken on the beach, the us versus them speech, agree with Shaw. All that came into clarity when paired with the realization of the night before. When Shaw said Erik was fighting for a side that would inevitably turn on him, that it was Mutants versus humans, it had unlocked fear in Erik that he was on the side of those who would destroy his people, again .
Charles realized now that Erik was then and still is deeply afraid that what happened to the Jewish people of Europe during the Second World War was on the verge of happening again. That fear had been manipulated by Shaw at Cuba, and heightened by the idiots who'd ordered the missile strike. All Erik had seen was that he was being targeted and that those in power wanted him destroyed because he was different, again . The fear it had awoken in Erik was what drove him to such extremes and had been so consuming that it had destroyed everything nine months ago. And still drove many of Erik's actions now.
Charles ran his hand into his hair and sighed yet again. His thoughts were interrupted as Moira and Mr. Black came into his office. "I've got more information off the microdot, it's a location for another Mutant," Mr. Black said.
"We're going to go check it out, we should be back in a few hours," Moira added.
"All right, let me know if anything comes out of it," Charles said. He still felt guilty over everything that had happened with Moira after Cuba. Having it brought up again last night simply served to make Charles's sense of guilt deeper. He regretted having to do it, but even as a telepath Charles was unable to know how the fallout over the Cuba incident would land. Protecting Mutants and giving them a safe place to come was important. Still, it had left a nasty feeling behind.
"You need to bend the adamantium into this shape and dimension perfectly, no flaws at all, this will make the conductor." Hank gestured to the lump of metal roughly the size of a small cantaloupe.
Erik nodded and said nothing, reaching out a hand he held it hovering over the flawed surface of the lump of metal. Hank stood to one side of the basement laboratory watching Erik with a careful eye.
Trying to focus, Erik tried to find the place within his mind that Charles had shown him in that week before Cuba. That place that allowed him to access his abilities without the fear or pain he had always relied on to access his powers since their discovery in the camps when he was a boy. Erik felt the metal smooth, ripple and shift directed by his will into the desired shape, but he could feel the flaws in the conductor even before Hank started tutting about it.
"That's not right at all, it has to be perfect or it's not going to work." Hank hovered at Erik's shoulder.
Closing his eyes Erik tried but he could not seem able to feel that calm peace inside his mind. Erik formed, reformed, and formed again the conductor that Hank needed to make this new Cerebro work. An hour passed and Erik was still struggling to form the conductor. The detailed work was nothing like he'd ever done with his powers before and he was finding it difficult to concentrate to the degree he needed to. Last night's anxieties were still playing on his mind as well as the argument with Charles. The struggle to access his powers was leaving Erik unable to calm his mind enough to bring the metal into the form and detail needed.
Shifting his posture again trying to loosen the muscles that were wound tight in his arms and back. Erik tried not to think about the argument with Charles but it kept playing on his mind. Particularly Charles's thought on harm not being necessary. He truly did not want anyone to get hurt and he really did believe, hope, trust even, that there were ways to achieve such ends. Erik did not believe these things, but there was a powerful part of him that wanted to. He wanted the world to be the way Charles said it was, but Erik couldn't see it.
The tut from Hank across the room told Erik he was still failing to form the conductor correctly, without even opening his eyes. Erik started again, all the muscles in his body rigid with effort.
In the background Erik heard the newly added elevator doors open, then he felt the metal rims of Charles's chair. Keeping his eyes closed, one hand stretched over the metal the other hanging by his side, Erik tried to focus only on the task at hend instead of Charles's presence behind him. All the muscles were tense in Erik's hand, arm, shoulder and neck. A headache was beginning to drum behind his eyes as Erik exerted his will over the adamantium. The metal shifted, the tension in Erik's arm tightened, he brushed up against the calm in his mind but then found it hard to hang onto every time he seemed to find it, the world seemed to press in, distracting him.
Softly, fingers closed around Erik's hand. The touch bled the tension out of his hand, shoulder, neck and mind replaced by a rare internal stillness. Erik found he was able to focus without struggling and the metal yielded to his will without effort, shedding impurities and forming into a perfect and pure adamantium conductor. Opening his eyes and relaxing, Erik's outstretched hand fell back to rest by his side. Erik looked back to where Charles was sitting.
"Were you in my mind?" Erik asked softly. Thinking back to when he had turned the telescope array with no effort at all after Charles had gone into his mind and how Charles had helped him when lifting the submarine in Cuba.
"No," Charles said.
Erik found himself looking into Charles's eyes, they were very blue and with a soft kind of look in them. Erik couldn't understand how that look could still be there for him after all that had happened between them. The moment seemed to stretch out between them, connect them, then that moment was broken, as Hank intruded.
"Is it done?" Hank leaned over Erik's shoulder to inspect the conductor.
"Yes," Erik said.
Charles withdrew his hand from Erik's, and backed his chair up a little saying, "Brilliant Hank. When can you get Cerebro working?"
"Um, maybe a few days, there is still a lot to put together but I have all the parts now." Hank shrugged a little.
"Well, see what you can do. Moira and Mr. Black just got back, if you're interested, they're in the library." Charles turned his chair back towards the elevator.
Wanting to know what Moira had found, Erik followed. A moment later he was with Charles in the elevator as the machine moved slowly back up to the main floor. Erik could still feel Charles's warm fingers on his hand and missed the touch already. However, last night's argument was also starting to make Erik wish he'd taken the stairs. It felt so awkward to be that close to Charles after everything that had happened between them. Charles seemed to be feeling the awkwardness too.
"Thank you for helping Hank," Charles said.
Erik almost wanted a smile a little bit. Charles had a very hard time allowing any silences to remain unbroken. Charles loved to talk, and Erik loved to talk with Charles.
"Do you think you will be able to locate the missing Mutants?" Erik asked.
"I hope so, it concerns me that Trask Industries, a weapons manufacturer, is after Mutants." Charles's face, which Erik had often thought of as cherub-like, frowned which ruined the angelic effect with lines of concern.
"I've told you before Charles, we're just disposable materials to them," Erik found himself saying.
"Erik, please, not right now, I know how you feel about all this but-" Charles asked and he glanced up at Erik, "can we not talk about it right now?" He could see in Charles's eyes that he was tired. Erik nodded and respected the request, maybe because he himself felt rungout after last night, or because he did not want to fight with Charles again so soon.
In the library Moira was unpacking a green army duffel and setting several items on a table. Mr. Black was kneeling down scratching Cupcake's ears.
Erik hesitated in the doorway a moment upon seeing the dog, then went in, skirting wide to avoid the animal.
"What did you discover?" Charles asked as he rolled into the room.
Moira turned to face Charles. "Well, the Mutant wasn't there. I asked around and the neighbors said that, like in Detroit, a man had been knocking on doors and had some kind of device. So, I'm convinced that Trask has kidnapped this Mutant. This particular man has actually shown up in our X-File office before. His name is James Logan, and he has been on record as fighting in every American War since the Civil War, and that's about all we know. We brought back his things to try and figure out what his abilities might be and why Trask wants him." Moira gestured to the table.
Erik came over to the table where James Logan's belongings were and picked up a cigar case. The heavy aroma punctuated the air, it brought back a sudden memory of being thirteen and alone in a dark place. Erik pulled his mind away from that memory and setting the cigar case back down he picked up a green army blouse. This too reeked of cigar smoke, and on it we're all kinds of badges, patches and insignia. The patch that caught his attention was the red diamond with a gold eagle inside that represented the 45th Infantry. Erik had never forgotten the 45th, and seeing the insignia again now reminded him of the day that everything had ended, and started, in his life. "Was he a soldier in the Second World War?" Erik asked as he placed the blouse back down.
"A James Logan served but I don't know if he's the same man. I think it's safe to assume he is for the meantime." Moira shrugged.
"I would really hate to think that a former soldier would be helping those commies," Mr. Black said as he scratched Cupcake's ears.
"Many people have cause to be sympathetic to communism, Mr. Black. But somehow I don't really feel that this is a matter of political ideology," Charles cut in. "No, I feel like there is something unseen going on here, these attacks made by Mutants, spreading communists leaflets, it's all just a little showy."
"If it's not communism then what could it be?" Mr. Black asked.
"I don't know," Charles said and appeared to slip into thought.
Erik picked up a very battered and old paperback copy of The Rights of Man . The top edge of a photo sticking up out of the book marked the place where its reader had left off. Pulling the photo out, Erik saw it was of an American G.I., in one hand he carried a rifle, in the other arm he carried a boy. Erik barely recognized himself in the photo as the thin and bewildered child. A boy not understanding what had just happened, and what it would all mean. Though everything was in shades of grayscale, Erik knew the uniform the man wore was green and smelled of cigars, whisky, gunpowder, mud and sweat. Knew the boy's striped prisoner uniform was blue and white, knew that in one hand the boy held a roll of red hard candies. The black and white photo was vivid color in Erik's mind as he recalled the occurrence as it happened in his life.
Erik had a sudden sense of urgency to find this Mutant. Taking the photo of himself and James Logan, Erik placed it in the breast pocket of his jacket and left the room. He did not wait to hear any further conversation on the topic of what Trask wanted with Mutants, and if communists were involved, or what this Mutant's powers might be. Erik needed to find this man, and helping Hank get Cerebro ready faster was the only thing he could do.
Hank was tightening a series of bolts on the Cerebro's skeletal-like structure when the door to his bunker lab opened and Erik came in. "How far along are you on this?" Erik asked.
"A bit," Hank said a little defensively.
"I will help you, and it will go faster, what do you need?" Erik told Hank. It irritated Hank that Erik, much like Charles, told people what to do. Unlike Charles, Hank didn't trust Erik and resented the command. Out of spite Hank wanted to simply banish the man who'd destroyed everything Hank had ever wanted in Cuba. But he also knew that Charles was counting on the machine being done soon. Charles seemed very concerned about what was going on with the communist Mutant attacks. So, Hank swallowed his dislike of the other man, and pushed back his resentment, much like he had done when working with that weasel-like, untrustworthy, degenerate, and thief of Hank's designs, Howard Stark, who he'd been forced to work with at the C.I.A.. "Can you weld those pieces together at the join while I socket these." Hank gestured with a reluctant and begrudging paw.
Erik moved to the task in silence and Hank went back to his ratcheting, annoyed. Hank shot irritated glances over every so often to make sure Erik was doing it correctly and then huffed a little before going back to his own tasks. Hank had once thought Erik was cool, had once desperately wanted to be Erik's friend, maybe even be like Erik a little. Now, Hank was quite certain that anything good or of value he'd ever seen in Erik had been some kind of machination. Hank still felt the stinging loss of the first friend group he'd ever had. Erik had, metaphorically speaking but almost literally, blown it apart in Cuba. Hank was resentful that Erik had taken Raven with him, the first girl who'd ever really shown much interest in Hank, and had thought Hank's freaky feet were not a turn-off.
"Am I not doing this right?" Erik asked, pausing in the welding - more like seamless fusing - that Hank had told him to do.
"What?" Hank grumbled, he glanced over the job Erik was doing. "Looks fine."
"You keep looking at me," Erik said.
"I'm just checking to make sure you're doing it right." Hank's resentful tone was more than clear. But Erik just went back to his work without saying anything, or even nodding. It sent a spike of irritation through him, at the moment Hank was very unhappy and uncomfortable. He was expressing all this through his body and voice, it annoyed Hank that Erik never seemed to express anything but cool, distant, confidence. The first time Hank saw the other man he had stood off to one side watched them all, as if uninterested and apart. Hank had once envied Erik's complete detachment in a situation, especially when Alex had been bullying him. Alex had never tried pushing Erik around but Hank was sure if he had Erik wouldn't have been bothered by it the way Hank was. He used to think that as confidence, now Hank interpreted it as he was sure it must have been meant, a complete disinterest in Hank, or the other Mutants, and their well being.
"Will this work the same way as before, it's much smaller and the shape is different?" Erik asked gesturing to the smooth domed shape that differed from the previous version that had been hexagonal.
Hank puffed himself up a little, it was an innocent enough comment, but from Erik it felt like a criticism and disbelief in Hank's understanding of his own inventions. It was the kind of move Howard Stark had done to him in the C.I.A. when they'd been forced to work together on projects. Or, in more recent times, Alex, who'd gone out of his way to pick on Hank the entire two weeks before everything had ended at Cuba. At least Alex, Hank bitterly thought to himself, as annoying and mean as Alex had been, had proven himself to be trustworthy at Cuba.
"Yes it will work, I redesigned the interior, this isn't just a retrofitted array like the last time. This is a fully designed machine for the sole purpose of magnifying Charles's abilities." Hank stopped tightening the series of bolts he was working on to gesture to his machine at large. "The domed shape will work better than the hexagonal shape of the first version. And as far as the size, my new structure as well as the improved adamantium conductor, will actually allow Charles more range given the better design. So yes, it will work, and much better than the last one," Hank huffed.
"Impressive," Erik said. Which for a moment caught Hank off guard and made him feel a swell of pride at his machine and that someone else was appreciating it. "I guess what they say about size is true, bigger is not always better."
"Why do you have to be like that?" Hank snapped. Annoyed that Erik always liked to use sexually charged language, it felt like he was mocking Hank.
"Like what?" Erik asked.
"You always have to be rude?" Hank fumed.
"Have I been rude?" Erik asked, frowning slightly.
"You're rude all the time!" Hank gave him an incredulous look. "Literally the very first thing you ever said to me was rude!" Hank burst out, an extra level of irritation shooting through him as Erik had the audacity to look puzzled.
"I do not remember-" Erik started, Hank cut him off as he vented one of the grievances he'd been holding onto.
"You arrived at the C.I.A. and didn't talk to anyone, like you were too cool for the rest of us. Then when you did speak to me you said, and I quote, 'kinky'. Purposefully to embarrass me in front of Raven!"
Erik, as usual, said nothing instead, Hank thought he seemed to be thinking back, as if trying to recall the insignificant moment. "I was not trying to embarrass you Hank," Erik finally said.
"You weren't?" Hank said in complete disbelief. "Then why would you say that to someone, it's so weird!" Hank was starting to get a little wound up over the current conversation. Erik was again silent as if thinking for a long moment then shrugging after several minutes thought.
"I don't know."
"You don't know!" This answer enraged Hank more than the denial. Hank knew why he did everything, every action Hank took was well thought out, or at least Hank knew the motive behind the action. Hank tried not to think about his ill fated experiment that had left him in his current blue, hairy and disfigured state. Maybe not well thought out in the long run, but Hank knew why he'd done it.
"I guess, I was uncomfortable," Erik admitted, shrugging.
"You're never uncomfortable!" Hank squeaked resentfully. He'd never met a man with more self confidence than Erik in his life, apart from maybe Charles.
"I am, and quite often," Erik said, his voice still even and calm, which annoyed Hank even more.
"You have nothing to be uncomfortable about. You just wanted to embarrass me in front of Raven and then make time with her yourself, with all that 'you look fine as you are, don't change a thing' crap," Hank accused again.
Turning more fully in Hank's direction Erik said, "I am sorry if I hurt you with those words. Embarrassing you was not my intention. And Hank, I was talking to both of you, not just Raven. There is nothing wrong with the way either of you look."
Hank gave Erik a disbelieving and annoyed look but said nothing more, instead going back to tightening his bolts. Turning his thoughts away from Erik he tried not to be too bothered by his presence, Hank focused instead on trying to get Cerebro-II done for Charles, his real friend who'd never abandoned him.
Erik worked on the new Cerebro with Hank until just past 11:30 p.m. before Hank called it a day. As the other mutant was needed in order to complete the machine's assembly, Erik too had to give up working and go upstairs. Coming into the library Erik poured himself a drink. Sitting on the couch he pulled the photo of himself and James Logan in 1945 out from his pocket. Erik felt a lot of things when he looked at the photo, one of them was a sense of marvel. He could never have identified the boy in the photo as himself now, the child looked vulnerable, confused, someone in need of protection. It was hard to believe he had ever been so small. Sadly, Erik thought, it was the only photo that existed of himself as a child. None of his family's photos had survived the war. Erik had forgotten the details of so many faces now and he bitterly wished he had those photos. Evidence that those people had once existed, this photo was the only evidence that he had once existed different then he was now. Taking a sip of his drink Erik looked up from the photo as the door opened and Charles came in.
"Hello," Charles said softly.
"It is late Charles," Erik commented as the other rolled to a stop by the coffee table that still had the incomplete game of chess from the night before set up on it.
"Yes, I know, but I wasn't able to sleep. Too much on my mind," Charles said.
"Trask and his interest in Mutants?" Erik tilted his head to one side, questioningly.
"Among others. Trask is quite concerning to me." Charles sighed, glancing at the chess board, his eyes landing on the knight, he added. "You seemed preoccupied earlier after you went through James Logan's gear, is everything alright?"
"What are the realistic chances you can find where Trask is taking the Mutants with Cerebro?" Erik asked instead.
"High, I know the feeling of Angel's mind, of Emma Frost's, and the others. I think if I find their minds again I should be able to locate them. My powers are somewhat untested. You know, very few people volunteer for me to practice on them, but I'm sure I can do this." Charles raised an eyebrow just a little, a facial tick that Erik found was quite endearing. "And you didn't answer my question, something's on your mind my friend, what is it?"
"James Logan, I had never known his name before," Erik said. He had always been able to talk to Charles. He had missed that connection since they had parted.
"You know him?" Charles asked.
"We both do actually," Erik said. "Do you remember that rude man in the bar last year who told us to go fuck?"
"I believe he told us to go fuck ourselves, not each other," Charles pointed out.
"We must have misheard then." A little smile touched Erik's lips, he was pleased to see a similar expression crossing Charles's.
"How do you know that man was James Logan?" Charles asked.
"This photo." Erik leaned forward and offered the photo for Charles to look at. Erik could see the instant reaction on Charles's face as he comprehended the circumstances the photo had taken place in.
"Is this you?" Charles looked up from the photo, a somber crease in his eyebrows.
"Yes, 29th April, 1945, Dachau. James Logan was the American soldier who found me and told me the war was over." Erik took another sip of his drink. He felt oddly moved by, and at the same time oddly detached from the conversation.
"How old are you here, thirteen?" Charles asked.
"Yes," Erik said. "I don't have any photos of myself as a child, or before. It's a little odd to look at myself now."
"I'm sorry," Charles said, and it was clear he meant it. Their conversation had none of the heat from the night before, instead there was a quiet but polite atmosphere between them now. This suited Erik as he hated fighting with Charles, even if he frequently found himself with an opposing position.
Silence passed between them again and after a few minutes Charles gestured to the chess board. "Want to finish the game?"
Erik considered for a moment, then nodded. "Whose turn was it?" Erik asked.
"I don't remember," Charles said. "But why don't you go first?"
Leaning forward Erik took a pawn and moved it one square across the board. Charles and he played in silence for a short amount of time before Charles asked "What are you going to do when we find Trask?"
Erik was quiet for a moment, he'd considered it only briefly over the last few days with no conclusion having been reached. "What do you think I will do?" Erik asked instead.
"I think you should let the authorities deal with him," Charles didn't answer his question but instead told Erik what he wanted.
"Is that so?" Erik leaned over the board a little to get a better look at the move Charles was making.
"Yes," Charles said.
Erik considered Trask. He was abducting Mutants and likely hurting them, he'd trafficked children for some nefarious purpose, why should Erik leave the man alive? "Why do you think people like Trask shouldn't just be ended? It's not like they didn't have a chance, no one is forcing him, he wasn't born into circumstances that make choices other than what he has done impossible?" Erik moved his knight to block Charles's pawn and leaned back in his chair.
"Because it's not our place to decide these things, we have to believe in our system, that those who are guilty will pay for their crimes to the people they've hurt. Our system works, he's guilty and we will bring him to justice. Yes, killing him would end his influence in the world, but that's all it would do. By bringing him to justice we set a precedent, we communicate that his actions will not be tolerated, we hold him up as a warning to others not to follow in that line of thought." Charles moved his queen further into Erik's side of the board.
"And you think that will bring an end to people like Trask?" Erik asked.
"No, but it will be a step in that direction," Charles said. "We can either tear down society and watch as the most vulnerable get hurt and we ourselves are left with nothing. Or we can reshape it into something better. I chose to make it better."
"You always did know how to make things sound appealing," Erik mused as he studied the board. Charles had made staying with the C.I.A. nine months ago sound appealing enough to make him do it. Charles always believed he was right, and there was a part of Erik who wanted to believe Charles was right too, but at the end of the day, he wasn't sure. And it was that uncertainty, that fear of what if Charles is wrong , that made him hesitate.
Erik was silent a few minutes considering Charles's words and what they might mean for him. He didn't want Trask dead, not the way he'd wanted Shaw dead, that had been something Erik had to do. Yet the fear of Trask being no different than Shaw, Trask wanting to hurt and exploit others, left Erik uncertain on what to do. As he pondered this and his next move, Erik retreated his bishop further into the safety of his pawns and changed the course of the conversation. "Why are you here Charles?"
"Here?" Charles looked up from the board.
"Why are you here, now, talking to me? We have nothing left to say to each other. As soon as this matter with Trask is over we will go our separate ways?"
Charles was quiet for a moment as if considering his answer. "I suppose I don't think that's true."
"We both know it is," Erik said.
"No, I don't accept that," Charles said. Erik leaned back in his seat and raised an eyebrow at him. Charles continued, "I think we actually have a great deal to talk about. I'm not prepared to speak about some of it." Charles didn't have to say Cuba for Erik to understand. "But I think after our conversation last night I understand things," the other man paused for a moment searching for the right words, "a little clearer. And I hope you do as well."
"Conversation?" Erik said, putting a little derision behind his words. "We argued, Charles. And I do not think we have anything left to say."
"Well as usual, my friend, you're wrong." Charles leaned forward and moved his queen into an attack position. "I have been thinking over what we spoke about last night, and I've come to realize that I need to ask you a question."
"And what would that be?" Erik had no idea what Charles could ask that was as important as he made it sound.
"What other options do we have?" Charles asked.
"You already asked me that," Erik said.
"I feel it needs to be asked again, maybe in a bit calmer of a manner this time." Charles waited for Erik to make his next move on the board.
"How am I supposed to answer that?" Erik asked.
"I don't know, it's a hard question, but when I consider the children you brought here, how can we just give up on a future? How can we not try, for their sake, to make the world better instead of resigning ourselves to it as an awful place? These children see the world as having potential, what if it's true, what if the world is full of possibilities? Because if it's not, if the world is solely a dark and evil place as frequently you seem to see it, then why are we trying, why are we even attempting to make a safe place for Mutants?" Charles asked, his voice earnest and soft. He was not trying to argue with Erik, he seemed to be trying to make Erik understand something. "I know you can't see the world in a good way at the moment, but can't you hope for it to be better, can't you want the world to be better?" Charles asked.
"Wishes never achieve anything," Erik said. He did not know why they were covering the same ground again.
"But consider that just maybe the world is worth it, and that maybe the way you've been taught to see the world is not correct?" Charles asked, his hand flexing in a way that told Erik that Charles wanted to reach out and touch him but was holding himself back. Erik wished Charles wasn't holding back and would reach out for him.
"We've been over this Charles," Erik pointed out, not making a move himself.
"Yes, but I didn't understand you then, I feel like maybe we might understand each other a little better now and maybe we can solve this problem together ." Charles insisted.
"What do you understand about me?" Erik moved his knight on the board and took Charles's pawn.
"That you're still fighting a war that ended two decades ago," Charles said softly, his eyes on Erik.
Instant tension ran though Erik's body at Charles's words. "What is that supposed to mean?" Erik's voice turned cold now.
"I'm not trying to hurt you, but I have to ask, do you really believe what Shaw said about Mutants versus humans is true?"
Erik's heart beat faster at the mention of Shaw, at the sudden memories of the submarine. He felt a distinct sting of shame, when he thought about agreeing with Shaw. At the same time he still felt sure that Shaw, though a monster, had been right. The humans would see them as different and then destroy them. Who would know better the tactics that a prejudiced people would use than a Nazi.
"Erik, I'm not going to say that Mutants and humans might not have some conflict, that's just going to happen between groups. But we have to have some hope that we can live with our neighbors or else what's the point. We might as well just off ourselves and the children and save the suffering."
Erik's heart skipped a beat in alarm at these words before he realized that Charles was using hyperbole to grind home his point. "What are you trying to say Charles?" Erik demanded, he was starting to get a little agitated.
Charles was quiet for a moment, thinking as he moved his queen into checkmate with Erik's king. Leaning forwards in his chair a little he said, "I will admit to not fully understanding you when we met, or when we spoke last night. I know now you are in pain." Charles paused and seemed to swallow back some emotion. "I'm sorry I can't make all or even some of that suffering go away. You're safe and don't need to worry that the future of Mutants will be the same as what happened to you during the war."
Anger flared inside Erik at Charles's words, how dare Charles say he understood anything about what had happened. Anger along with a sudden and deep sadness that opened up inside him. He was discombobulated and overwhelmed by it all. If he had been speaking to anyone but Charles he might have left, or shut down the conversation. However, Charles had earned the privilege of Erik hearing him out. Charles, for his few flaws, was one person Erik felt safe enough to always hear out, to even speak about subjects Erik had never told to anyone else. "You are trying to say that I'm living in the past?" Erik's voice had an angry edge to it. "I am not living in the past Charles, I learned from it." he snapped his chest tight.
Charles closed his eyes for a moment, he seemed to be searching for the right words. When Charles opened his eyes a moment later they were very bright and seemed to capture Erik. "I'm trying to say, there is hope."
Erik sat still letting Charles's words sink in for a moment then he shook his head softly. "I would like to believe that Charles." His tone was still a little hostile, but the sadness that had opened up inside him was now swallowing even the anger he had felt. "But I can not."
"Wanting to is enough for now, just hold onto that Erik," Charles said.
The gulf of sadness seemed to sweep up around Erik and he no longer wanted to be there. Standing, Erik said, "I concede" and left the library.
Raven sat on her bed reading a magazine, she heard Hank's — now unmistakable — footsteps in the hall. Abandoning her periodical, Raven opened her bedroom door. "Hank," Raven caught his attention, he paused at his door, just a few down from hers.
"What?" Hank asked, his shoulders hunching slightly defensively.
"I just wanted to let you know that I've decided to stay here," Raven said, then added a little flirty, "so you'll be seeing a lot more of me." She still found Hank attractive and still wanted him to find her attractive.
Instead of any kind of flirty response back, Raven perceived the micro-shift in Hank's expression that told of annoyance before he huffed, "Oh sure, you decided to stay now."
"Yeah, Charles needs me." Raven frowned a little.
"And he didn't need you in Cuba? You know, when he was lying bleeding after being shot by Erik." Hank's accusation — though true — stung.
"Charles told me to leave, I didn't realize how badly he'd been hurt, seeing as he kept it from me." Raven defended herself, she still felt guilty over having left, and she didn't appreciate Hank pointing it out to her.
"Sure," Hank scoffed,
"He did," Raven bristled a little.
"Maybe he kept it from you because he knew you weren't trustworthy anymore. Given that you took the first chance to run off with another guy to go have fun." Hank grumbled.
"That's not true," she said. Hank's words shocked her.
"It is, you ran off with Erik and left me to deal with getting off the beach — which was not easy by the way — and then all the hospital visits, the surgeries, building that ramp and ironing his underwear for him."
"Charles doesn't care if his underwear is ironed." Raven really didn't know why Hank would bother doing something Charles himself never did. As for helping Charles through the difficult process of adjusting to being paralyzed, helping him after his surgeries, she'd wanted to be there, but she hadn't known.
"I'm not going to have any of those doctors give me a disapproving look because Charel's underwear wasn't ironed!" Hank fussed. "I did a lot for Charles, because I'm his real friend, you ran away."
"Well I'm back now, and I'll be taking care of Charles, so deal with it." Raven crossed her arms over her chest.
"Sure once things calm down. You didn't have to watch him struggle with figuring out his chair, or deal with his mother. No," Hank pouted, "you ran away from us freaks on the beach to go off gallivanting with a smooth, hairless European and go drink martinis and mai tais on a yacht."
"There was no yacht." Raven could not believe Hank was accusing her of abandoning Charles to go party. "And only an idiot would have called mother after Charles was hurt," she added to sting him back for all the things he'd said.
"You abandoned us, I mean him, and I don't plan on forgetting that," Hank huffed.
"Fine, I don't care. But I'm not going anywhere so you can just get used to seeing me around," Raven shot back, "and I'll be blue." She didn't know why exactly she'd added it but Hank's words the night before Cuba had hurt her deeply. Since he seemed to hate her blue form so much she wanted to throw it in his face.
"Fine," Hank sniffed.
"Fine," Raven pouted. Turning on her heel she went back into her room and left Hank in the hall. The conversation hadn't gone as she'd hoped, she wasn't sure what she'd hoped for but that hadn't been it.
Slumping on her bed, her magazine forgotten, Raven sulked, after everything had died down upon returning home she'd been excited to see Hank again. She hadn't forgotten about him for the last nine months. His rejection had hurt the night before Cuba, probably in ways he could never understand and that she didn't feel like she could share with him. It had been so nice to meet another Mutant at all, but one with a physical mutation like herself, it had made her feel connected to Hank in a way she had been longing to feel about someone else. And then to add on top that Hank was cute and liked her it had been so unreal and so wonderful. When he'd said she'd never be considered beautiful in her blue form, her real form, it had broken her heart. If that was true then maybe Hank could never find her beautiful in her real form either.
Those words had been part of why she'd gone to Erik's room that night — aside from not wanting to die a virgin — and why she'd gone with him when Erik had offered her a place where she could be her real self.
Pulling her legs up against her chest Raven stretched one arm out and let her skin turn to its natural blue and scaly texture. She examined it for a moment, then growled in frustration. Erik had been able to see her as beautiful, but she didn't want Erik, she wanted Hank. Why couldn't Hank just see there was nothing wrong with the way she looked. Flopping over Raven lay on her pillows, why couldn't Hank understand it had meant so much to her to find someone else like her in so many ways. Hank hated the physical oddities of being a Mutant, whereas she loved them.
1962 - Westchester Mansion
Raven sat in the living room listening to the rock n' roll station and reading a magazine. She loved Jackie Kennedy's hair but wasn't sure about it for herself. Raven opened up her handbag and took out the small round compact, shifting her form she shortened the blonde hair and flipped the ends up. Tilting her head from side to side to study her reflection Raven supposed the effect was okay. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pink lips, she was a perfect magazine picture. Sighing Raven shifted into her true blue form, her real hair was tomato ketchup red, which she kept short. Whoever said 'life wasn't fair' had made an understatement, why couldn't it be Maureen O'Hara red? But red hair aside, Raven had always liked the large yellow irises of her real eyes. Even her scaly skin held a certain appeal, she thought it made her look unique. Elizabeth Taylor had purple eyes, she looked unique and everyone loved her. "Why can't people like me?" Raven asked her reflection.
There was no response, it wasn't so much that she hated the way she looked, she didn't, Raven was afraid of being rejected for the reason she looked different. After meeting Alex and Sean she was sure she'd made the right call in not showing them her true blue form. Alex teased Hank something terrible about his feet, what would he say about her blue snake-like skin and ketchup red hair? Raven knew she shouldn't think too hard on the subject of being rejected for her looks, dwelling on it for long periods sometimes brought up a strong feeling of acute insecurity. It was this driving fear that made her act out whenever Charles was giving too much attention to someone else and leaving her in the corner at the pubs. Raven had been accused more than once by those women of being a jealous girlfriend, when in reality she was a fearful baby-sister. She knew it was silly, but she was afraid Charles would abandon her to hang out with those normal looking women. She also felt this irrational fear about Charles's male friends too, anyone else really. She was afraid he'd prefer someone normal looking to her and she'd be left all alone. Raven knew that Charles was just as attached to her as she was to him, but still the anxiety drove her to act out until Charles paid attention to her again and she knew she wouldn't be abandoned and alone.
Raven hadn't felt that way recently, even though Charles was spending so much of his time with Erik, it seemed they were both avid chess players. Normally that would have made her vie for Charles's attention and she'd have felt that unnamed anxiety that he preferred Erik's company to her own because he looked normal. But for some reason she didn't feel like that this time. Maybe it was because Raven herself had other options for friends? Mutant friends who didn't think she was a freak. She was still giddy over meeting Hank, such a sweet, nice and attractive guy, and Raven was pretty sure he liked her. A bubbly little thrill went through her chest. Maybe she'd only acted out because Charles was her only friend before and now that she had others it was okay if he paid less attention to her. Maybe meeting other Mutants was good for both of them?
Her musings were cut off as the door to the living room opened and Erik came in Raven tensed and quickly shifted into her usual blonde form.
"It's only me," Erik said as he let the door swing shut behind him and went to the hearth where his cigarettes had been left earlier.
What did that mean? Did he think he'd startled her or was he saying she didn't need to turn blonde because he wasn't going to make fun of her? Raven hesitated for a moment then decided to shift back to her real form. Erik tapped out a cigarette and placed it to his lips lighting it. "Can I have one?" Raven put her compact back in her purse and tossed it on the coffee table.
Erik cast an eye over her for a moment, did he think she looked weird, or attractive, or maybe he was judging if she was old enough to smoke. She was only two years younger than him, but she'd lied about her age of course and told everyone she was only twenty-two instead of twenty-eight, so maybe that was it? Several thoughts rushed through Raven's mind but they stopped when a moment later Erik took another cigarette out and offered it to her. Raven put it to her lips and inhaled as Erik put the flame to it.
"I did not know you smoked?" Erik pocketed his lighter again.
"I don't often, just sometimes." Raven moved the crystal ashtray on the coffee table close so she didn't get ash on her pretty fall dress. "You smoke daily right?" She didn't know if she'd ever seen Erik for more than a few hours without a cigarette.
"Something like that." Erik had just lifted his own back to his lips when the living room door opened again and Hank, Charles, Alex and Sean came in wearing their sweats and clearing having just finished with training.
Raven quickly shifted back into her blonde form hoping no one saw, she glanced at Erik who was giving her an odd look, perhaps disapproving? Or was it questioning? Before she could decide, Raven was distracted by Charles clapping Alex on the shoulder and saying. "Good job everyone, the training is going well, you're all doing marvelously in developing your abilities."
Raven stubbed out her cigarette and crossed her arms frowning. She hadn't been asked to do any training, she was still being treated like she was just along for the ride because Charles was there. And yes, maybe that had been true at first, but she'd made friends, she was a part of the team now and she didn't like being overlooked and left out.
"When are you going to do my training?" Raven asked, her tone a little sulky.
"Your training?" Charles asked, "Raven dear, you already have a good command over your abilities."
"I still slip up," Raven challenged, she wanted to be included in the training.
"What good is turning into someone else?" Alex asked. "I mean sure, like for spy stuff but we're going into combat."
"It has its uses, Raven's abilities are very disorienting, and that's a very important aspect in a fight," Erik countered.
"Oh," Charles thought for a moment, "right, Raven you have a point, why don't you try to accurately turn into other people and maintain that appearance." Charles gestured to the coffee table, "Shift that lads."
A few minutes later Raven was standing in the middle of the living room with everyone else standing around her. They were to call out the names of famous people and she'd transform as quickly as she could while also trying to maintain accuracy.
"Jane Russell," Hank called starting things off. Raven took a moment to picture the actress and quickly turned herself into the brunette bombshell and blew a kiss to Hank playfully. She felt fun and flirty and appreciated that Charles was correcting his oversight and was training her too.
"Jayne Mansfield," Alex called, Raven hesitated trying to recall what the blonde, Pennsylvania born actress looked like. Focusing on the subtle shapes that made up the woman Raven felt her body shift to mimic those same shapes.
"Annette Funicello," Charles said, "and quicker if you can." Raven didn't love turning into the former Mouseketeer. She hadn't seen a picture of Funicello since the actress was about 14 and Raven could only mimic people. She shrank down into the bright eyed girl all she was missing were the Mickey Mouse ears. All the same it made her feel a little childish to appear like this in front of the others. Like maybe Charles wasn't taking her seriously as part of the team.
"Maria Tura," Erik quickly suggested.
"I don't know who that is?" Raven turned back to her normal blonde form, she couldn't turn into anyone she hadn't seen..
"What do you mean, everyone knows Maria Tura," Erik looked confused.
"Is that an American actress?" Charles asked already seeming to know the answer.
"Polish," Erik said.
"Raven's not up-to-date on her Polish actresses, I think stick to the U.S.," Charles suggested.
Erik shrugged then said "Ava Gardner."
They started calling names fast and faster, it was actually kind of hard to concentrate and turn into each person correctly Raven discovered. She had slips with hair color and subtle shapes of the mouth and eyes when transforming too fast.
"Marilyn Monroe," Alex called, Raven closed her eyes and felt her body shift and shape into the blonde heartthrob of every man she'd ever met. She wondered what it really felt like on the inside to own a body this beautiful? Did Marilyn Monroe feel as amazing as she looked?
"Elvis," Erik suggested. Raven's skin prickled as she quickly turned into the King of Rock N' Roll, only he was wearing her fall dress.
"Maybe you should stick to just doing women, that looks ridiculous," Alex laughed.
"She will not be limiting her abilities to suit you, this is life and death, she has to be able to turn into anyone without flaws and under pressure." Erik cut Charles off, her brother had opened his mouth to say something but apparently he'd been going to say what Erik had because he closed his mouth and didn't add anything.
"Okay," Alex shrugged, still grinning at Raven's silly appearance. Only the laughter wasn't mean, Alex wasn't mocking her, just found the image of a man in a dress a little unexpected. Raven felt for the first time in a long time weirdly happy, her abilities could bring laughter that wasn't mockery. It was an unexpected reaction.
"Natalie Wood," Charles called. "Faster dear, faster," he added.
She was Ginger Rogers, then she was Ingrid Bergman, then Joan Crawford, Bette Davis, Alec Guinness, Olivia de Havilland, Cesar Romaro, Humphrey Bogart, Lana Turner and Hedy Lamarr! Each transformation was faster than the last.
"Rita Hayworth," Hank called, Raven had just become the famous redhead when a pillow from the couch hit her in the back of the shoulder.
"Erik!" Charles admonished.
"She won't have time to think in a real fight, and there will be distractions." Erik countered. The pillow hadn't hurt but it had broken her concentration, Raven turned back into her blonde form. She was getting a little tired now and had almost lost concentration altogether and turned into her natural blue form.
"He's got a point," Sean shrugged.
"Alright, but let's not use pillows," Charles grabbed the daily newspaper and crumpled a page into a ball.
A minute later Raven was trying to turn into various famous figures while having balled-up paper thrown at her. It was really hard to keep her focus and turn from one celebrity, then back to her blonde form, before shifting into another celebrity. Charles called a halt to the training when Raven got so confused that she ended up half transforming into Judy Garland and half into Orson Wells.
"All right, I think you've had enough for today, but very good Raven, we'll practice this again." Charles smiled and Raven was proud of herself. She hadn't done anything like this before, and changing so fast, so much had really left her feeling drained, but also good.
She shifted back into her blonde form for the last time and smiled back at Charles, then let her eyes find Hank.
"I'm starving," Alex said.
"Lets see what's in the kitchen," Sean suggested and they left with Hank. Raven was about to follow when Erik's voice caught her attention.
"You were not concentrating fully, that's why you started struggling after ten minutes." Erik's cigarette was back in his hand.
"Well it's hard, I've never done anything like this before." Raven shrugged. She knew if she hadn't been focusing on turning back into her blonde form between celebrities she'd have been able to do it faster and with less effort, but she still didn't want the others to see her blue form more than necessary, not if she could help it.
"You would do better if you used your full concentration," Erik frowned at her. But whatever he meant by that she didn't find out because Hank popped his head back into the living room.
"Were you coming, Raven?" he asked.
"Yes," Raven called and hurried to Hank to go find something to eat and left Erik standing in the living room with Charles who was saying something about going outside to work on Erik's abilities.
Erik sat that evening on the bed in Charles's room studying the chessboard sitting a little further down in the center of the bed. Charles, having returned with wine, got on the bed carefully so as not to upset their half finished game. The other Mutant settled shoulder to shoulder with Erik at the headboard. Erik relaxed and maybe even happy which was not something he was used to feeling after exerting his powers to such a degree as he had to in order to turn the dish installation.
"I hope you like red," Charles said as he uncorked the bottle and poured a glass.
"Love it," Erik said.
"It's supposed to be a good year." Charles turned the wine bottle over to look at the label.
"French, this might actually be good," Erik commented.
"I know, it's quite hard to get the good stuff in America, but we do try." Charles smiled a little, pouring himself a glass as well. "And I think we deserve a job well done, you were marvelous out there today, I knew you had it in you." Charles's smile just took Erik's breath away.
Erik gave him a little quirk of his lips in return. "Why do you have that dish on your property?" The installation was anonymous.
"Oh, it's a radio telescope for a university, we let them build a receiving station and small observatory on our land and we get the revenue from the rental agreement to keep up this house. It's quite expensive by the way, I don't know why my step-father keeps the damn thing other than extra storage. None of us have lived here for about eight years now." Charles leaned in a little closer as if telling Erik a secret. "I suppose the place has its uses."
"Oh," Erik said. Charles was still very close to him, having not leaned away after his confidential whisper. Erik closed the distance between them and kissed the other man softly. He was met with an eager and just as soft response. The relaxed feeling deepened in Erik's chest and he enjoyed it. "Your move I think," Erik said, his eyes looking into Charles's very blue ones.
"Move? Oh yes," Charles turned back to the board that was still sitting between them.
Erik took a sip of his wine and pondered the radical difference in using his powers earlier that day versus every time before that. With Charles guiding him, helping him find moments of internal peace — that never seemed to be there when he had looked for them before — Erik had been able to access his powers in a way he'd never experienced. It was like Charles had opened up an entirely new aspect of the world to him, one he had not even known existed. It was so different then anything Erik had experienced with Shaw trying to dig out his abilities. Fear, anger, pain, suffering, those had been Shaw's methods and they'd worked, but always with inconsistent results, and they left Erik drained and struggling to maintain his abilities. For a moment Erik's mind turned down those darker avenues within himself and the ever present fear and anxiety pressing against him. The things that Schmidt had done to him, the decade and half he'd spent searching for Nazi who'd renamed himself Shaw. All of it seemed to come to the surface of his mind. He was so close.
"Erik, is there something wrong?" Charles's voice cut through all of it and brought Erik back to the room, to the game, to Charles. The other had considered for a short time then he'd moved his knight.
"No," Erik lied and turned his mind down easier pathways, more enjoyable pathways, pathways that led to Charles. Places in his mind without pain, fear, or suffering of any kind. Charles had shown Erik what his powers could do, what he could simply will, and without losing or fighting for control. It was a truly foreign experience. Erik reached out and placed his pawn to block Charles from advancing further across the board with his bishop.
"Going to drag it out then?" Charles asked as he easily placed his rook into an attack that would take Erik's own bishop in the next turn.
"You think my defeat is inevitable?" Erik asked, but he kept his eyes focused on Charles.
"Unfortunately for you my friend, I do think so." Charles took a sip of wine. His eyes alight with the same fun and understanding that was the cohesion between them ever since they'd met.
"If defeat is inevitable, should we even bother finishing playing the game?" Erik asked, taking a sip himself but keeping his eyes on Charles still.
"Is that a forfeit? Already want to reset the board and hope for better luck, Erik?" Charles's tone was teasing and simply deepened the sense of ease in Erik's chest.
"I never forfeit, Charles," Erik said, his eyes challenging as that familiar electric feeling arching between them made his blood move faster.
"Then what are you proposing?" Charles raised an eyebrow a little.
"That you lay back." Erik set aside his glass and leaning over kissed Charles again, right hand touching Charles's face, his left hand undoing the button and zipper on Charles's trousers. Charles's hands came up and pulled Erik closer to him, kissed Erik deeper, and invited Erik to reciprocate the eagerness.
A second later there was a clattering sound as Erik's knee scattered through the board. Pausing, they both looked at the now ruined game. "That keeps happening," Erik commented.
"Yes," Charles frowned in thought, "we might need to figure out some kind of rule on who wins when that happens."
"Yes." Erik nodded. Then turned his full attention back to Charles, "I think whoever upsets the board forfeits."
"Alright, but I do feel like this would give you a slight advantage," Charles smiled, it was clear he knew it was him who upset the board more often while in pleasurable pursuits with Erik.
"I certainly hope so." Erik smiled then kissed Charles again. Unbuttoning the other man's periwinkle shirt, he kissed down his chest, ribs, abdomen and lower. Enjoying the peaceful, relaxed and safe feelings that he seemed to be able to find when spending time with Charles.