atthemercyof | but that's how we like it, and that's all we want

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but that's how we like it, and that's all we want

[ He wakes up, and he's not where he should be. Gone is Charles Xavier's bedroom, the warm press of a body beside him, and in it's place is - well, Erik thinks it's a library. He pushes himself up off the mattress on the floor, black wood shelves looming into view. He doesn't know what's happening, only that he feels a little outside it all. Nobody could have moved him in his sleep, and if they wanted to, they wouldn't leave him somewhere like this.

He turns around to glance at the room twice, moves a little closer to the shelves to draw his fingers across the spines, not plucking them free just yet. There's a sound, somewhere outside the room, and he abandons the examination in favour of opening the door, taking the hall at a quick, but not frantic pace. He's curious, which is bizzare in and of itself.

Though he doesn't look into any of the rooms he's passing, it does feel like there's life in here, wherever here is. He hears the noise again, traces it through. ]

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Will I remember it all when I wake up again?

[ Smiling gently. ] Of course.

Then I can just come back again and you will be able to show me everything you want to.

[ Grinning lightly. ] So there's no need to worry about it, is there?

[ Charles does want him to come back, that part's never been questioned for the telepath, but he wonders if he'd be too happy here surrounded by good memories and the comfort of Erik's stalwart presence, able to walk, a complete master of his domain set to stay until the sun burns out.

For now, he'll have to be content with what he has, kissing the edge of Erik's sharp smile. ] I would like that very much.

[ Smiling again. ] You'll have to figure out what you don't want me to see for fear of being teased.

[ Gamely cocking an eyebrow. ] Oh, then we'll avoid the middle bit, shall we? Leave the parts of my life open where one end is too young to know what's embarrassing and the other end knows better and avoids the behaviour.

[ Laughing. ] Spoilsport.

Survivalist. [ But Charles is laughing too, revenging himself by ducking to kiss the side of Erik's neck soundly. ] You really want to see that sort of stuff so badly?

Mm. Maybe I want to live a student life vicariously through yours? [ But still, arm slung around Charles' waist, he seems content enough with what he has been shown. }

I'll consider it. [ It's not as though he really wants to keep anything from Erik, but it's school and something in him naturally rebels at letting someone see those not-so-golden years. He's not opposed to giving Erik a glimpse into something he never had.

Falling back a little to properly look at him. ] Do you mind if I show you one more room before we go? There's not really anything in there you haven't seen, but it'd mean a lot to me.

No, of course not, whatever you want, Charles.

Okay. Okay, good. [ Taking Erik's hand from around his waist, Charles walks alongside him and counts his own steps, wanting to remember the way it feels before he has to wake up again and have that feeling fall away into nothing. He guides the two of them to the door beside the immense room's main wall, a flutter of apprehension climbing in him, hoping Erik will like the room once he's faced with it in person.

Sheepish. ] I'm... I feel a bit like a schoolboy with a crush. The room may as well be my writing "Mr. Charles Lehnsherr" in my diary.

[ The reference is completely lost on Erik, but he smiles nonetheless, aiming to appease the tension in Charles' voice, because he wants to see it, is openly curious as to what it looks like, touched wholly that Charles even went to the trouble. ]

Well you can tease me all you like on this, if not any of my schooling yet. [ He doesn't completely shake off the awkwardness, but the silence on the way there is more comfortable, Charles' mood grounded by Erik's supportive smile.

Charles all but charges through the unadorned door, stepping out of Erik's way to quietly wait for his word on it. Not quite as broad as his childhood room, but it is tall, three different levels of mostly empty shelves connected by a spiral staircase, reaching toward a brightly coloured stained glass dome that sprawls over the ceiling, dominating the roof and showering sunlight down onto the railings. Said railings aren't without their own familiarity - a rich red orange that turns the place into a warm blaze when the light hits it, like the Goden Gate Bridge did when Charles woke with the sunrise in San Francisco.

The patterns too are reminiscent of the subtle designs on the bracelet, Charles tracing the nearest flourish and glancing sidelong at his friend. ]

[ It is more beautiful than Erik expected, holding a breath in his chest as his gaze drifts. He knows exactly what it looks like, what the designs are reminisce of, and because this is all stored, safely tucked into Charles' head, it means much more than he thought it would.

It feels safe, a part of him cradled in the vast mind of his other half. ] It's - [ And there isn't a word for it, struck again without the vocabulary to express how it makes him feel, apart from the warmth in his smile and the way his eyes settle on the echo of his bracelet. ]

[ A cool wash of relief pouring through him, Charles sighs inaudibly and leaves the rail to crowd Erik from behind, arms sliding warmly around his tapered waist, a kiss pressed to the topmost notch in his spine. Murmuring. ] It's yours. I'm yours and all I ask is that you give me the chance to fill these shelves.

[ His heart is thudding in his chest, the deep sense of belonging filtering through his veins. It's a wonderful thing, and he smiles, ducks his head against the kiss and hums. ] Yes, dear. It's too wonderful not to agree.

[ Smiling against his skin so he can feel it, he hugs Erik more tightly to him, moving to press a kiss at the hinge of his jaw to let out some of the intense affection wanting to claw its way out of Charles. Chuckling softly. ] And stay away from the far corner. I don't want you finding out exactly how much of a slag for you I am.

[ His laugh comes across startled, playing for the moment, chin tilting towards where Charles had indicated. ] The corner, you say?

[ Holding fast to his waist with a light chuckle. Lightly admonishing. ] Erik.

What? [ Eyebrows lifting, aiming for innocence. ]

You know what, you fiend. [ Not that he'd deny Erik the privilege, but Charles' face would burn to ashes before the first smattering of thoughts are through with. He's no prude, but it's safe to say propriety is mutually exclusive from his rather colourful imagination.

Turning his friend around to put the offending corner about face. ] It'd be a fair substitute for awkward college experiences, but darling, angels fear to tread here.

There isn't an angelic bone in my body.

[ But he concedes with a smile, mischief giving way to fondness. ] It is very wonderful in here though, brings back memories without me having to even peek at the books.

[ Considering this for a second, a slow smile unfurling. ] Maybe they speak to you because you're in all of them.

That's possible.

[ Even then, it's the colour of the shelves, makes Erik think how lucky it is they tumbled together. ] Whatever it is, it's beautiful.

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sorry /o\ I was working on a long ass app.

no prob! I am still working on John's and frowning at writing the samples :|

your writing is wonderful, okay? you never need to worry about that.

thank you ;_; I just need to glare at my Word document harder so it'll toe the line.

/glares with you to help.

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will be mostly quiet for a few hours while I inhale the coffee :I work days suck

absolutely fine :) I'm out of sorts too, achey things not letting me sleep past the four hour mark

/tries to cuddle you from across the ocean.

/CLINGS LIKE A CLINGING THING

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