let's go to war to make peace,

[atthemercyof]

[ Locked to oldcardigans ]

[ Erik would be something nonchalant if not for the way he stands just beyond the front steps, arms crossed over his chest, gaze slanted at Agent MacTaggert. Her departing pleasantries are more directed at Charles, because Erik very clearly excudes distrust, and even distaste, to any of the Suits. But that doesn't mean his presence is not very much there. The conversation through the night weights itself down at the back of his mind. Too many people are showing an interest now, invasive little questions that get passed off as pleasantries from someone Charles trusts.

Erik sometimes wonders if Charles would just let the government steamroll right on other him. He hopes MacTaggert knows Erik won't allow that as long as he's here.

He tips his head a fraction in acknowledgement of her goodbyes, lifts his gaze skyward slightly, because there's something ticking away in the house tonight, a static kind of unease that crawls under his skin. It's a bit like the dark roll of sky just before a storm as dark eyes follow the movement of the man in front of him. ] Well?

Comments

[atthemercyof]

[ Tugging once on his bracelet, still in his space, Erik leans forward to fit their mouths together, just the slightest brush of his lips. ]

[oldcardigans]

[ Humming appreciatively, Charles' whole stance softens, his cautiousness giving way to genuine warmth, filling the room with it. ] Welcome back.

[atthemercyof]

[ Against his lips. ] Why thank you.

[oldcardigans]

[ Unable to stop himself from pausing every few words to kiss along his mouth, slipping to his cheek. ] Something nice and quiet to wash away the evening with, maybe?

[atthemercyof]

I think that sounds just about right. [ He shouldn't really be kissing with Charles in the corridor for anyone to see, but he can't help but drop another to his lips, cupping his cheek. ]

[oldcardigans]

[ His end of the connection uncurls from the coils it lay in, bubbling with renewed, quiet affection. ] Mm, reading? Music? What's your recommendation?

[atthemercyof]

[ Sincerely. ] You could read more of your Conrad.

[oldcardigans]

Ugh, I'm going back to being angry with you.

[atthemercyof]

[ Smothering his laugh by pressing into Charles' shoulder. ] I know you miss your Imperialism, your madness, and your boats.

[oldcardigans]

[ Tolerantly grinning. ] I'd rather not read more excruciating English history, if that's all right. I do know where you sleep, you know. It'd be a quick death.

[atthemercyof]

Ah. So Conrad is where it all runs out, there is a line.

[oldcardigans]

Not polar opposite morals, interesting, isn't it?

[atthemercyof]

Well, it is because he's probably the devil.

[oldcardigans]

The devil is in the excruciating details. [ Pulling himself free, edges back toward the hallway, expecting Erik to follow. ] Come, I'm making decisions for us, starting with items which will make us forget this horrible day.

[atthemercyof]

[ Shaking his head, something rather fond. Erik ends up following without question, trailing after Charles through the halls. ] I have faith in your ability.

[ His hands get shoved deep into his pockets, tilting his head and watching the line of his back. ]

[oldcardigans]

Is that actual faith, or were you goading me into choosing by being a bother?

[ It should maybe worry Charles that they could seek each other's forgiveness so easily and choose to stave off the future, but they do admit their undeniable weakness for the other. Why the pointless waste of precious time they have left spent fighting unprovable arguments; the solemnity can find them in the darker moments held to themselves, lurking in wait and set apart from the small haven they have in this house. ]

[atthemercyof]

I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually.

[ He's tired, willing to let his mind turn thoughtlessly to this, to what they have, what they could have. Charles is like the light Erik can't help fluttering near, no matter whatever he's feeling. ] Do tell me when you decide.

[oldcardigans]

I think we both know that answer.

[ The study is still lit, seemingly brighter than when he left it, and Charles moves to pour Erik his own glass. ] First order of business, I should have remembered not to drink alone.

[atthemercyof]

A mistake you shouldn't make when you have company as good as mine. [ He moves fluidly, crossing further into the room and turning back, a smile playing at his lips. ] Shame on you.

[oldcardigans]

[ There's a self effacing curve of his mouth, tone light as he takes a moment to gather thoughts from the rest of the house, curious as to whether or not their fight is known. ] We were rather cross with each other, dear, be kind.

[atthemercyof]

I'm always cross at someone. [ Erik drops rather gracefully into the chair he seems to always occupy, his leg crossing, fingers drumming restlessly against the curve of his knee. ] So I suppose not everyone follows my protocol.

[oldcardigans]

Not someone with my disposition, no. [ Moving smoothly to Erik's side, he leans against the arm and lazily offers him the glass. ] So, what sort of music do you usually fancy, Herr Lehnsherr? I intend to capture your king with accompaniment that meets your approval.

[atthemercyof]

[ Angling his face up to him as he accepts the glass, grateful for his closeness. ] I don't listen to music, you'll have to surprise me.

[oldcardigans]

[ Shooting him a questioning look, as though the concept of not listening to music personally offends him, Charles peers down at Erik with credulity suitably strained. ] Never? I have some Ella Fitzgerald that would make a believer out of you.

[atthemercyof]

It didn't seem important. [ He shrugs, turning the glass in his hands. ] I'm sure you have great taste, but music has never been something I particularly craved enlightenment for.