[ they aren't living together. there are fresh flowers on the kitchen table at least once a week and two peoples' worth of groceries in the fridge and a little electric coffee machine even though charles prefers tea all set up in the apartment he's been given to call his own, but it's not, officially, co-habitation.
howard has his own place, and his own things. they don't even really share closet space. all the going back and forth might give charles pause every now and then, but it's not as if anyone has to make any special trips. howard's neighborhood has some of their favorite cafes and restaurants, so if he ever needs anything it's a quick stop before they head back to charles's place.
sometimes he wonders whether it's fair that it's not a more even split, if they shouldn't be spending more time at howard's too. but bringing it up would mean bringing it up and charles is nothing if not good at suppressing his emotions on a day to day level. with howard it's not a case of suppressing anything so much as it is keeping smaller concerns to himself. they have an understanding. when two people already know a thing there doesn't seem to be much reason to drag it out into a big, unnecessary discussion.
charles doesn't really have a favorite time of day, but if pressed to admit it, he has a certain fondness for waking up and knowing there's someone else moving around in the apartment, hearing the shower running or smelling the coffee being made. he hasn't lived in such small quarters since college, and that feels like ages away from where he is now.
sometimes, like he's the telepath, howard will come back into the bedroom after charles has woken up and then they're in bed for at least another hour. sometimes charles actually makes it without being ambushed and they have breakfast together at the table while reading over current events. sometimes there's even a real live newspaper, since the two of them share a certain fondness for reading from tactile sources every now and then. it's a comfortable silence, the two of them occupied separately together. charles finishes off the rest of his toast without looking up. ]
Looks like rain today. Pass the sugar, love?
i don't know how this could happen they're so hetero.
(howard isn't with charles. if anyone asks, they're just friends. good friends, he'd say, maybe even bordering along the lines of best friend here in this situation, despite the fact that he has other friends, older friends, but he was at least the closest friend he'd met here in this place. yes. they spent a lot of time together. practically every day they'd come together after work, meeting for dinner together, either at a nice restaurant, or with one of them bringing groceries to the others residence (going to charles' was the easiest, it was fitted to his restrictions, and howard, if he was honest, preferred it there anyway) and cooking together. after they'd eaten they'd read together, sit and talk, and maybe if they ended up spending the night together, well that was just something that happened. (howard could count the number of nights they'd spent apart in the past month on one hand.)
most days howard spends the night at charles', their bodies pressed together the full night, and in the morning when duty calls he slips out with a kiss before the other awakes, though some nights he brings fresh clothes with him if he's stopped by his apartment, or they've planned it out already. and some clothes he leaves. there's underwear, a couple of shirts, things he can change and leave the rest of his outfit the same, and still not have anyone grow too suspicious.
it's just that it's a little more work to stay at howard's. the halls aren't as wide and so it can make it a pain to get through, his bed is high up and so it takes a bit more to get charles up into it, and his shower isn't adapted to his needs. it's all possible, howard is happy to help him if he needs, but in general, being at charles' just works better.
they're just friends. friends who spend all their time together. and kiss. and sometimes tumble naked in bed together with soft gasps and gentle moans of the others name.
it's the weekend, now, though, and that's howard's favourite time of week. friday mornings he always packs a bag to take with him, because when he's done, he can go straight to meet charles for dinner. it's become something of a tradition for them to have dinner out on friday nights, they take turns picking, and the summarise their week, despite having seen each other daily. saturday mornings mean sleeping in, afternoons spent out and about, getting a nice bouquet of flowers as the sun begins to set. sometimes they go out at night, dressing up to go to a bar, and stumbling back at night for a rougher night in bed. sunday's were howard's favourite, especially when he could wake charles up with his dick in his mouth.
alright, maybe they were a little more than friends.
this morning he'd woken up and slipped away into the shower. charles had been sleeping soundly, and they'd had a late night. he hadn't wanted to wake him. though when he returned the other was gone, but the smell of bacon cooking had lured him to the kitchen, and then they'd almost burned it while distracted.
at first the little word didn't register to him. he reached blindly for the sugar, his eyes glancing up from his paper to look out the window as he pushed it to him.)
Oh, it does. Maybe we should stay in to-
(and suddenly it hits him, his eyes widening a bit.
of course he's heard that word used before casually amongst friends, but usually there's sarcasm attached to it, along with an eye roll, especially when it was aimed at him. but this time. this time it wasn't.)
[The mansion, or rather Xavier's house, was enormous, so of course Logan had been given a room to sleep in while he was there. It was all eerily nostalgic, especially since the mansion when he was from was long since destroyed. Sleeping here again brought back a flood of memories of a life that seemed like ancient history. Things were so bad now, that the years he'd spent at the school seemed like a dream.
He'd closed his eyes thinking of those times, but nightmares of his fragmented past quickly pushed their way in. It had been decades now, but the pieces of half remembered torture still plagued him, still woke him up in the middle of the night in a panic and cold sweat, calling out or growling any number of names.
Charles might regret giving him the room that shared a wall to his own, especially as the quiet, distressed mumbles got louder, his thrashing and twitching making the headboard thunk against the wall once or twice all without waking him yet.]
[ charles doesn't sleep well at the best of times. hank's serum does its work, but it can't do anything about charles himself, and the struggle of recent days has left him on thin ice, emotionally speaking. he misses raven and he misses the school and his heart feels torn apart by wild dogs when he thinks about the pain and suffering of his people, scattered and divided without a banner to unite under, hunted down and cut into pieces by the very government sworn to protect him.
are they not citizens of the united states, the same as anyone else? it's no wonder he can't sleep.
even on the rare occasions when he makes it to sleep, he doesn't stay that way. this time it's the thump from the next room that startles him into waking. charles seriously contemplates lying there, maybe fishing for the joint that he keeps by his bedside table, or the whiskey bottle. but the traveling he's been doing has stirred some of his old instincts, and he hefts himself up out of bed, shrugging on a robe and padding from his own room, silently letting himself into logan's.
he sits on the edge of his bed, setting his hand on logan's shoulder to shake him awake. ]
[There's just a hint of glistening sweat, a light sheen across his skin as he struggles against some unseen assailant or invisible torture that, in all likelihood, hasn't even happened yet. He's still twitching, grumbling unintelligible mutterings as Charles pushes the door open and comes over to wake him up.
Back when there was still a school, it had become something of a running joke that the best way to wake him up was to either find a long stick to poke him with or something to throw at him. It was definitely safer.
The warm hand against his shoulder causes a wave of confusion, but it wakes him up. For a terrifying moment it's painfully obvious that he doesn't see Charles', the nightmare still clinging on as the bone claws crunch free from his hands and he jolts up. In a blur of movement that's pure instinct, he suddenly has Charles pinned to the bed, one hand fisted in his robe, the other pulled back, claws aimed at the telepath's face. His breathing is ragged, teeth bared before reality starts to come into focus.
There's a visible change. He blinks, muscles relax, and then he looks horrified and apologetic.] Fuck. Sorry. I didn't...
[He eases back, claws already slinking back between his knuckles as his breathing evens out. He does his best to smooth over the wrinkled lump he's made in the robe, wetting his lips and avoiding eye contact.
As soon as he's sure he doesn't see or smell blood, that Charles is unharmed, he quickly readjusts the sheets to cover himself back up again. He actually... didn't own any underwear at the moment, not that he was complaining. The one draw back to living in a school... and then a post apocalyptic world; underwear was highly encouraged.]
[ despite the dark turn charles's attitude's taken over the past decade or so, he wasn't lying when he told logan physical violence wasn't exactly a strong suit of his. (that one very satisfying punch notwithstanding.) so he goes over without resistance when logan grabs him, startled out of whatever muzzy half-asleep daze that might've still been clinging to him. he holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. he might also be holding his breath, blue eyes wide in the dark as he stares at logan without moving.
it makes him feel uncannily like he's in a nature special about predators of the serengeti. as much as he resents his powers, at times like these he wishes he had them, at least so he could reach out and be reassured that he isn't about to be gutted in his own house. but he trusts logan as much as he does anyone these days.
it's his own stupid fault for coming in here. his heart's in his throat for a blinding second, and quixotically this does not prevent him from registering the hard planes of lean muscle pinning him heavy to the bed. instinct without telepathy makes him feel like a blazing idiot at times. now would be one of those times. when logan eases back charles covers his face, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes to obliterate any glimpses he might've caught of that body.
he's not thinking about it. he's not thinking about anything. ]
My fault. I shouldn't have... [ god, he should just get up and go back to his own bed. the last thing he needs is to go getting tangled up in someone else's bad sleeping habits. if logan has bad dreams, charles has no advice to offer him for that predicament. he has plenty of his own demons to battle. ] Never mind.
[ it's easy to adopt that bright, biting tone he gets when he wants to laugh something off. he's made up his mind to just leave and forget this as a wayward impulse, but he makes the mistake of looking at logan as he sits up on one elbow and all he can think of are the sounds he was making in his sleep, fitful and haunted. ]
[Don't feel too bad Charles, he's not easily dodged and resistance probably would've triggered an even worse response.
Logan continues to look both haunted and guilty. He can hear Charles' heart thundering away, racing from fear... because of him.]
No, it's- [He pauses and looks around in confusion.] What're you- did you need something? [Apparently, finishing sentences just wasn't a thing he was very keen on doing tonight.
He tilts his head, making him look even more like an animal, a dog cocking it's head in curiosity as it tried to work something out. Charles' is quick to dismiss the whole thing, and even quicker to offer up a distraction. Logan doesn't take the bait, eyes still narrowed as he tries to piece together what had brought Charles' into his room. Had he really been that loud? Not that he should really be surprised, his nightmares had woken plenty of people, but Charles' comment made him think otherwise.]
Trouble sleeping? [He gives the younger man a look of empathy, obviously he knows how that goes.] I wasn't keeping you up, was I?
[ charles feels trapped somehow, even though logan isn't holding hom down anymore. he doesn't know what to make of his being here and he doesn't know where to land his eyes. they're adjusting to the dark and he lets them skirt off logan's broad, bare shoulders, the flex of muscle under sweaty skin when he moves.
it's his house, and yet charles is keenly aware that he doesn't belong here. he feels like he's intruding somehow, and with logan asking him whether he needs something it makes the transgression all the more obvious. no, he doesn't need anything. he came here out of sympathy, because he forgot for a moment that he can't even help himself. that's embarrassing more than it is anything else. it makes him reluctant to explain, but logan did ask. ]
I don't need anything. [ other than a firm grip on reality, but he's not so sure logan can help with that. no one can. ] I didn't mean to - I'm sorry if I startled you.
[ he gestures aimlessly, waving a hand between them, as if to reference what just happened. he does have an explanation in a roundabout way, although he's deeply reluctant to spit it out. ]
I suppose I wanted to... [ charles sighs and looks over at logan, briefly making eye contact. ] I didn't want you to think you were alone. [ that's horribly sincere and he doesn't know what to do with himself after he's said it. he should've just offered the man a whiskey and had done with it. although, technically, he can still do that. ]
Want a drink?
[ like nothing that came before even applies, and the softer, vulnerable parts of him can be concealed that easily. ]
[Logan doesn't quite manage to notice the discomfort Charles is feeling, still trying to simultaneously sort through and forget the things he'd seen in his dream. The question hadn't been meant to make Charles feel like an intruder, but with his curt tone it was hard to take it any other way. He was still trying to wake up, and more than half expected some emergency to be the reason the telepath had come woken him.
He looks up, brow knitting slightly as he searches the other man's face at the claim he didn't need anything. It meant, presumably, that he'd come in to check on Logan when he'd heard him, which was... well, it was a little touching.] No. You didn't. [In his hurry to reassure Charles that an apology wasn't necessary, he reaches out, putting his hand on the other man's thigh. He freezes as soon as what he was doing actually sinks in and it takes him a beat to realize where his hand is, react, and then pull his hand away again, definitely drawing way more attention to the innocent gesture than he needed to. Still he was determined to adamantly reassure Charles that he appreciated the concern.] You didn't startle me. The nightmares... they've been happening for years now. I, uh - it's better to be woken up.
[Again he looks up at Charles in the dark, trying to study his face, discern his thoughts. And again he can't help but feel gratitude.] Thanks... [There's another pause and it felt like unspoken words were hanging thickly in the air, just waiting to be said, but Logan's also quick to latch onto the offer of a drink.]
Love one. [He cracks a crooked smile, but doesn't move yet. His pants, his only pants, are on the floor next to the bed.] Meet you in the kitchen?
[ it's been a long time since he's had any kind of human contact. there's - hank, obviously, who's there to pick him up off the floor at necessary intervals, but for someone who used to be so casually tactile, it comes as a surprise for charles when logan's hand lands on his thigh. it's heavy and grounding, and it makes him draw in a breath. there was a time when charles wanted to do anything he could to avoid feeling grounded.
logan's arrival in his life has meant that he can't indulge in his usual avenues of escape. he's had to be uncomfortably present, and in the absence of being consistently high or drunk he's had - logan. logan present in his peripheral, to provide support or forward momentum, to keep charles going and to keep an eye on their perimeter. it's been an equally long time since charles has let himself rely on anyone but hank.
when logan alludes to the fact that he's had nightmares for years, charles can't help his reaction. he reaches out in the dark, fingers hesitantly grazing logan's jaw, his knuckles running over the scruff that forms the bottom of his sideburn before he lets his hand drop. ]
I'm sorry. [ again. about the nightmares. nobody deserves to suffer like that. and charles might feel as if he has no empathy left inside of him, but he's discovering hidden reserves here and there. it's unsettling. like waking up after a long sleep. he never would've touched him if his powers were intact, but there's a safety net in place for charles that he can sympathize without feeling all the pain that another person's suffering. he glances down over logan's chest and figures it's probably time to get out of his bed. ] I'll, um. Yeah.
[Meanwhile, Logan was seemingly oblivious to how his presence was disrupting the destructive pattern Charles' life had fallen into. As long as their progress kept moving forward, he probably wouldn't object to whatever coping mechanisms Charles used; he wasn't exactly a shining example of healthy coping strategies himself. It was fairly obvious though, that by giving Charles a cause and a purpose again, he'd set something in motion, and he'd be there to help where he could. It had nothing to do with Charles letting him help, he would be there, whether the other mutant wanted it or not, because they had a job to do.
He starts when Charles reaches for him, pulling back slightly on instinct before stilling. He doesn't realize he's holding his breath until the hand drops away and he's left sitting there with a strange mess of emotions mixing with confusion.]
Huh? [Logan wasn't sure what the apology was for, but his mind is on Charles' hand, the ghosting feeling on his cheek, misinterpreting everything.] I didn't- I didn't mind. [He leans forward slightly, shifting in the bed and hating how loud the springs creaked and the sheets rustled, making his movement obvious. The younger man hadn't moved yet, though. He almost seemed reluctant to. Another misinterpretation.] We don't have to. [Go get a drink, he meant. Or maybe he was giving Charles an out. He wasn't sure anymore.
He leans in closer, this time without shifting, quietly closer, close enough to inhale Xavier's scent. He pauses, stilling for a moment, giving the younger man ample opportunity to move away, before he tentatively moves his hand up over his shirt, fingertips snagging on fabric before he fists a handful of it. Again, he pauses, doesn't pull Charles any closer, not that he'd really have to. If he leaned in just a little bit more they'd be close enough to feel each other's breaths, practically brush lips.]
[ that time, charles just meant that he was sorry that logan has to suffer from nightmares at all. he knows what it does to a person, although charles's situation isn't particularly relatable, because in spite of his own tortured inner thoughts, he has everyone else's to contend with. or he had. maybe that's more accurate to say. it's difficult to put it into a proper tense, because the thoughts come back no matter what he does.
he's thinking about all this now because it seems easier than confronting his current reality, with the possibly naked man in his bed. well, technically right now it's logan's bed.
charles is good at avoiding things. he's become an absolute champion at it, considering his recently reclusive lifestyle. there are a million ways he could get out of this, and the impulse is strong. a part of him still wants that drink. he could pretend to spill it, clumsy hands, half asleep. then he'd have a reason to excuse himself. it'd be easy. he could do it, and then he'd never have to think about this again. all he has to do is move.
but all he can think about is the creak of the springs beneath him and logan's weight bearing closer to him on the bed. his chest is rising and falling in rapid beats, uncertain of himself and what he's still doing here. logan's hand on his chest makes him swallow. he feels like he should offer some kind of explanation, take action instead of sitting here stunned. a variety of possibilities crowd his senses, all of them to do with logan and the sheets over him and how charles hasn't been this close to anyone this undressed in probably over ten years now. ]
Logan... [ god help him, he does not have a follow-up for that. and he wants... he's not sure he knows how to do this anymore. it used to come so easily. ]
[He hears Charles' pulse speed up when he moves closer, it's enough to have his own beating excitedly as well. Swallowing thickly, his eyes rake over Charles' face, looking for anything that might hint to him that he should back off. Nothing.
His focus is on the telepath's mouth as he says his name, and only that, just his name. He waits, expecting a 'no' to follow that, but it doesn't come, the silence just settles back down around them. It's not exactly the direction he wants, but it's enough.
He tightens the hold he has on Charles' shirt and drags him closer, spanning the space between them. He gives him one last opportunity, a pause with their mouths hovering half a breath apart, before tilting his head and pulling Charles hard against him, making the younger man's lips crash against his own.
There was a rush of heat behind the kiss, the momentum and release of tension that had been building since the first day when he'd barged into the mansion, since their first heated argument, and his pleas for Charles to believe him. The frustration of their failures, all the tumultuous emotions behind Erik's release, everything, poured into this.
His other hand tangles into Charles' long hair as he parts his lips, giving himself up to the heat of the moment without hesitation.]
[ there's a moment where he's really not sure whether this is such a good idea or not, but then it's happening and charles for all his hesitance has always harbored a streak of spontaneous bravery. the same trait that caused him to jump off an ocean liner into the water after a mutant who was a stranger to him is the same impulse that drives him to kiss logan now, the thrill of the unknown making him temporarily bold.
he breathes in sharply when logan pulls him in, arms going around his shoulders to anchor that closeness, all of charles's frustrations and disappointments of the past few days coming to a head. erik's rescue and the fight they'd hand on the plane, logan's presence a comforting ballast against the ugly, raw regrets that had threatened to sweep charles away. and then paris and further betrayal, the mess and the fallout of everything that'd happened there.
he just wants to feel something other that completely dejected for a few, bare moments. he wants to put aside the impossible odds and the people who've abandoned him and think about something simple for a change - the shift of muscle under logan's warm skin and the tug of his hand in charles's hair. a soft sound escapes his lips as he licks into logan's mouth, wrapping his hand around the nape of his neck to pull him closer. ]
[No. It's a horrible idea, and if Charles stopped and asked him, he'd tell him the honest truth. They shouldn't be doing this. That wasn't stopping him though, and it didn't seem to be stopping Charles. If anything it just added to the fire, fueled the spark of desperation and desire.
Like Charles, Logan had just as much on his mind that he needed a moment away from. The survival of mutantkind, in many ways, was resting on his shoulder right now, and so far, he'd failed.
Anxiety melts away as all his thoughts are preoccupied with Charles' mouth on his, the quiet hummed groan that's muffled into the kiss as he parts his lips and Charles' tongue slips past them. The invasion is welcome, returned with heated eagerness, and the space he'd left the telepath, space to push him back or move away from him, was quickly diminishing as they both tugged and pulled at each other, seeking out more contact. Charles' fingers brush through the short hair on his neck and it sends a shudder down his spine, makes him let go of the hold he has on the younger man's shirt in favor of fumbling to push the fabric up and out of the way, fingers seeking out skin to dig into and muscles to knead to draw the other man closer still.]
[ charles can't remember the last time he felt this way with anyone. the last time he let himself get this close to anyone. it fills him with a kind of adrenalin-soaked anxiety; uncertainty clouding his movements where before there might only have been confident ease.
the handsome young man he was at oxford feels like worlds away now. he doesn't know what could possibly have drawn logan in when he's nothing more than a miserable collection of coping mechanisms held together by whiskey and hank's serum.
but he's not exactly interested in asking questions when logan's mouth is on his and logan's hand is sliding up his shirt to grab his chest beneath. charles's breath catches in his throat and he takes that as permission to touch him in return, bringing up his free hand to land hesitantly against logan's big shoulder, giving him a hesitant squeeze as he pulls him forward.
he is beautifully built, something charles hasn't allowed himself to notice until now, and he's grateful that the hot flush of appreciation he feels won't hop mind to mind. ]
[In stark contrast to Charles' lingering hesitation, the inhibitions and uncertainties Logan had been feeling earlier were gone. Forgotten. Like a switch that was either flicked on or off.
It was hard to separate what personality traits might stem from his mutation and what were just him, but the single minded primal drive, much like the blind rage that always threatened to swallow him whole during fights, had to stem from that. Despite feeling overwhelmed with the raw need to touch, and to cover Charles with his scent, claim him, he was still positioning himself to give the younger man a path of escape. He's still expecting at any moment that the telepath will come to his senses and shove him away. It wouldn't change much, they'd just go back to pretending there wasn't the slightest hint of attraction between them. It'd be easy.
He slides his hand up Charles' back, fingers fanned to trail over as much skin as he could, bunching the fabric of his shirt up with it. The press of the other man's lips is building a pleasant buzz, he wants to move down his jaw, to his neck, taste it all, but breaking the kiss and freeing Charles' mouth meant offering him an opportunity to tell Logan to stop. He just didn't feel confident enough to risk it. Not yet.
Instead, he leans into his touch, silently encouraging Charles to continue while drawing him closer.]
[ charles knows how easy it'd be to get out of this. he's an expert in finding escape routes and it's been so long since he wanted anything at all for himself, even the simplest things, that it makes it simple to imagine denying himself this too. but, perhaps not surprisingly, he can't bring himself to stop.
there's a part of him that doesn't think they could get any closer. he proves himself wrong by shifting his weight and pushing himself closer along the bed until he's practically in logan's lap, sheets or no.he should have some pride and feel a little ashamed of himself, being so forward, but charles is well beyond the point of being embarrassed in front of logan, of all people. he can safely say the other man's seen him at his worst.
which again, makes the fact that they're in this position all the more bewildering to charles. but it's not enough of a dilemma to keep him from nipping lightly at logan's lower lip, tugging it with his teeth before licking at the corner of his mouth, letting his hands travel over his shoulders and slightly down his chest before he wraps his arms around his neck again, leaning back and pulling logan with him. ]
[What Charles doesn't know is is that he's also seen Logan at his worst and still accepted him then. He'd taken him in, into a damn school full of children. Obviously, there was some trust, some hope that Logan really was more than the rabid animal he saw himself as. He'd always treated him like a person, just as deserving of respect as anyone else. It had made an impact, treat him like a man, and he'd act like one. It still astonished Logan though that Charles had been able to see a man in the paranoid, scared, aggressive creature that he'd brought into his home.
With all of that, it's not hard at all to stick by Charles, to have faith and patience with him, to be there to quietly offer support each time he stumbles. And somewhere along the way this had happened, the looks had changed, the reassuring touches had lingered for a little too long.
Logan is more than happy to accommodate Charles as he shifts closer, strong arms wrapping firmly around him to draw him in. With Charles practically in his lap, it forces him to tilt his head back, the angle making the kiss feel deeper, added a feverish hunger to it. His shaky, needy breath is audible in the quiet of the night when Charles pulls back to tease with light nips and tugs to his lip that makes Logan growl in anticipation and desire.
Charles leaning back and dragging Logan with him triggers something in Logan. It mirrors their earlier position, less claws and threatening growls. Logan tangles a hand into Charles' long hair, tugging to give him easier access as tongue and teeth find the younger man's jaw line and trail down to his neck. He keeps it light, consciously not wanting to leave any marks. He moves lower, wanting to get to skin where he doesn't have to be so careful, where he can really sink his teeth into Charles.
The shirt needs to go, hopefully Charles wasn't too attached to it, because in a quick movement one claw slides from Logan's hand to shred messily at the fabric. Stupid bone claws. It gets the job done though, lets him tear it out of the way so he can get to his collarbone, immediately leaving a bruise.]
[ even as charles has no idea what he's doing, there's no fear mixed with his unsteady anticipation. he has nothing but solid trust for logan, something that's been a rare phenomenon of late. he was stupid enough to believe that maybe he could believe that erik would help them and he's still smarting over having been so wrong about that one.
knowing he can trust logan fills him a flush of warmth and affection both, flooding through his smaller frame as logan's weight settles heavily over top of him. the sounds charles is making aren't anything he'd claim as his own, soft and hungry and desperate, his hands running down over logan's shoulders, then raking light up his back with his nails. ]
Logan.
[ there goes his shirt. the way he says his name should make it obvious he doesn't have any intentions of telling him to stop. he nudges his knee against logan's thigh, pushing himself tentatively up against his mouth in encouragement. he knows from the bright mixture of pain and pleasure both that blooms at his collar bone that it's going to bruise, but he couldn't care less. ]
[The quiet noises seem to spur Logan on, but it's the rake of nails up his back that draws a throaty groan and a hard rock of his hips against Charles in return. The mix of pain and pleasure riling him up even more. Hearing his name, and the desire behind it, sends heat prickling through him, makes him feel feverish and lost in primal need.
Logan shifts at the nudge, consciously not even registering what he's doing, just moving so they can both have more friction. Tugging again at Charles' hair, he flattens his tongue to lap at the bruise he's given him before moving back up his neck, teeth grazing possessively over his skin.
Unceremoniously, he pushes a hand down between them, eliciting another rumbling, deep moan when he palms over Charles through the thin fabric of pajama bottoms. The question of whether or not they should be doing this was far from the forefront of his mind. He'd shifted to something more instinctive, moving to fulfill a need in both of them.
He rocks his hips again, grinding against the younger man.] Fuck. Charles. [It's breathless and whispered, heavy with desire.]
[ logan feels perfect over top of him, heavy and warm and brimming with an intensity charles knows he'd be able to read if his powers were currently intact. the serum's bound to wear off by morning but right now its powers are still in working order, something he's immensely grateful for, given the circumstances. he'd rather not have to filter through logan's thoughts on top of his own right now.
it's all he can do to just hold onto him, his mouth falling open when logan grinds their hips together. there's a kind of flushed, excited panic that ripples through him at the feel of logan's teeth on his throat and logan's hand shoved between them. he just has this sense that maybe he should say something, like he should warn him that it's been literally years and he's already falling apart at the seams over how much he wants this and how much he wants logan.
but it's hard to find the words and it's easier to hook his leg around the back of logan's and roll his hips up into him, doing what he can to lock their bodies together and hold logan as close as he can keep him - at least as much as he can without working against the hand between his legs and the halting rhythm of the movement they were working toward.
when he hears him say his name, it's all he can do not to whimper. he makes a muffled sort of sound instead, biting the corner of logan's jaw. ]
Whatever you want. Anything. We can - [ well, anything is pretty clear. ]
[It was hard to say whether Charles would have an incredibly easy time dealing with what was going on in Logan's head, or an incredibly difficult time. There was definitely no in between. While intently focused on just one thing, his head was still a swirl of scents and sounds, which only added to the primal, singular drive. A sensory overload to anyone not used to it.
Logan willingly let's himself get swallowed up by it, submerged in the noise of Charles' quick, sharp breaths, the way his heart sped up and raced, pulse quickening at bites and touches, and his own quiet growls and groans. All under the overwhelming scent that was Charles; it made him hungry to press his lips against his skin and bury his face against the telepath's neck, breathing him in as he continued to grind insistently into the other man.
He hadn't realized he'd said anything, the words spoken in an exhale, but Charles' voice is clear and makes him pull back and blink as he actually slows enough to process thoughts. Stopping to think was almost jarring, driving home just how much he hadn't thought this through.]
What, um... [He ends up getting impatient with himself. He doesn't want to think or ask about lube, or condoms, or any of it. He doesn't want Charles going anywhere, and he isn't about to get up. It narrows their options slightly.
Instead of dwelling on it, any of it, he just closes his eyes and rocks his hips down against Charles' again, a slow intentional grind that draws a shaky, groaned breath from him.] Nevermind. [He leans back in, nipping at Charles' jaw, the scruff scratching his lips, and slides a hand between them. Palming Charles' through the thin pajama pants, he growls quietly against his skin. The rest of Charles' clothing really needed to go.]
[ perhaps there is something ever so slightly pathetic about the idea that charles is falling into bed with the first person to make him feel whole again in roughly nine years. logan's been behind him every step of the way, ready to give charles a little shove if he started to slack. he's had hank with him every step of the way, but it's different being with someone who actually expects things from him.
when logan looks at him, charles feels both hopelessly inadequate and also like he could be something greater than he is, like he could be the inspiring figure that brought logan across time to be with him.
these days, he couldn't even talk himself into doing anything. logan's hips grind down into his and it pushes the air from charles's lungs, makes him feel like he couldn't move even if he wanted to. since he started experimenting with the serum, he's had some idea of what it's like to suddenly lose control of his faculties, and that's remarkably similar to what he's feeling now. except, of course, that he chose to be here. he wanted this. he wanted logan. ]
Hmm? [ he's honestly distracted for a moment trying to work out what he's asking. he even naturally tries to drift questioningly toward the unfinished statement in his mind before he remembers that he can't. ] What...
[ his voice comes out hoarse, strained on a low sound of obvious pleasure when logan drags their hips together, slow and heavy and deliberate. nevermind is an answer he's suddenly willing to take, since he can scarcely think, let alone sort out a reply. charles squeezes his back hard under his hand before he lets go, reaching behind him to grip the headboard for leverage. it gives him something to push back against so he can rub himself up against logan with the same kind of force that he's got charles pinned to the bed with.
as he feels logan's hand sliding heavy between their legs, charles's head falls back against the pillow beneath him. he works his own free hand down too, trying to push at the elastic waist of his pajama pants. suddenly going to bed dressed seems like a huge oversight on his part. ]
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this got gay
i am SHOCKED
howard has his own place, and his own things. they don't even really share closet space. all the going back and forth might give charles pause every now and then, but it's not as if anyone has to make any special trips. howard's neighborhood has some of their favorite cafes and restaurants, so if he ever needs anything it's a quick stop before they head back to charles's place.
sometimes he wonders whether it's fair that it's not a more even split, if they shouldn't be spending more time at howard's too. but bringing it up would mean bringing it up and charles is nothing if not good at suppressing his emotions on a day to day level. with howard it's not a case of suppressing anything so much as it is keeping smaller concerns to himself. they have an understanding. when two people already know a thing there doesn't seem to be much reason to drag it out into a big, unnecessary discussion.
charles doesn't really have a favorite time of day, but if pressed to admit it, he has a certain fondness for waking up and knowing there's someone else moving around in the apartment, hearing the shower running or smelling the coffee being made. he hasn't lived in such small quarters since college, and that feels like ages away from where he is now.
sometimes, like he's the telepath, howard will come back into the bedroom after charles has woken up and then they're in bed for at least another hour. sometimes charles actually makes it without being ambushed and they have breakfast together at the table while reading over current events. sometimes there's even a real live newspaper, since the two of them share a certain fondness for reading from tactile sources every now and then. it's a comfortable silence, the two of them occupied separately together. charles finishes off the rest of his toast without looking up. ]
Looks like rain today. Pass the sugar, love?
i don't know how this could happen they're so hetero.
most days howard spends the night at charles', their bodies pressed together the full night, and in the morning when duty calls he slips out with a kiss before the other awakes, though some nights he brings fresh clothes with him if he's stopped by his apartment, or they've planned it out already. and some clothes he leaves. there's underwear, a couple of shirts, things he can change and leave the rest of his outfit the same, and still not have anyone grow too suspicious.
it's just that it's a little more work to stay at howard's. the halls aren't as wide and so it can make it a pain to get through, his bed is high up and so it takes a bit more to get charles up into it, and his shower isn't adapted to his needs. it's all possible, howard is happy to help him if he needs, but in general, being at charles' just works better.
they're just friends. friends who spend all their time together. and kiss. and sometimes tumble naked in bed together with soft gasps and gentle moans of the others name.
it's the weekend, now, though, and that's howard's favourite time of week. friday mornings he always packs a bag to take with him, because when he's done, he can go straight to meet charles for dinner. it's become something of a tradition for them to have dinner out on friday nights, they take turns picking, and the summarise their week, despite having seen each other daily. saturday mornings mean sleeping in, afternoons spent out and about, getting a nice bouquet of flowers as the sun begins to set. sometimes they go out at night, dressing up to go to a bar, and stumbling back at night for a rougher night in bed. sunday's were howard's favourite, especially when he could wake charles up with his dick in his mouth.
alright, maybe they were a little more than friends.
this morning he'd woken up and slipped away into the shower. charles had been sleeping soundly, and they'd had a late night. he hadn't wanted to wake him. though when he returned the other was gone, but the smell of bacon cooking had lured him to the kitchen, and then they'd almost burned it while distracted.
at first the little word didn't register to him. he reached blindly for the sugar, his eyes glancing up from his paper to look out the window as he pushed it to him.)
Oh, it does. Maybe we should stay in to-
(and suddenly it hits him, his eyes widening a bit.
of course he's heard that word used before casually amongst friends, but usually there's sarcasm attached to it, along with an eye roll, especially when it was aimed at him. but this time. this time it wasn't.)
What did you say?
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maybe soooome nightmares?
He'd closed his eyes thinking of those times, but nightmares of his fragmented past quickly pushed their way in. It had been decades now, but the pieces of half remembered torture still plagued him, still woke him up in the middle of the night in a panic and cold sweat, calling out or growling any number of names.
Charles might regret giving him the room that shared a wall to his own, especially as the quiet, distressed mumbles got louder, his thrashing and twitching making the headboard thunk against the wall once or twice all without waking him yet.]
please don't stab him like rogue
are they not citizens of the united states, the same as anyone else? it's no wonder he can't sleep.
even on the rare occasions when he makes it to sleep, he doesn't stay that way. this time it's the thump from the next room that startles him into waking. charles seriously contemplates lying there, maybe fishing for the joint that he keeps by his bedside table, or the whiskey bottle. but the traveling he's been doing has stirred some of his old instincts, and he hefts himself up out of bed, shrugging on a robe and padding from his own room, silently letting himself into logan's.
he sits on the edge of his bed, setting his hand on logan's shoulder to shake him awake. ]
Hey.
immediately stabs him like rogue
Back when there was still a school, it had become something of a running joke that the best way to wake him up was to either find a long stick to poke him with or something to throw at him. It was definitely safer.
The warm hand against his shoulder causes a wave of confusion, but it wakes him up. For a terrifying moment it's painfully obvious that he doesn't see Charles', the nightmare still clinging on as the bone claws crunch free from his hands and he jolts up. In a blur of movement that's pure instinct, he suddenly has Charles pinned to the bed, one hand fisted in his robe, the other pulled back, claws aimed at the telepath's face. His breathing is ragged, teeth bared before reality starts to come into focus.
There's a visible change. He blinks, muscles relax, and then he looks horrified and apologetic.] Fuck. Sorry. I didn't...
[He eases back, claws already slinking back between his knuckles as his breathing evens out. He does his best to smooth over the wrinkled lump he's made in the robe, wetting his lips and avoiding eye contact.
As soon as he's sure he doesn't see or smell blood, that Charles is unharmed, he quickly readjusts the sheets to cover himself back up again. He actually... didn't own any underwear at the moment, not that he was complaining. The one draw back to living in a school... and then a post apocalyptic world; underwear was highly encouraged.]
thanks you're a real bud
it makes him feel uncannily like he's in a nature special about predators of the serengeti. as much as he resents his powers, at times like these he wishes he had them, at least so he could reach out and be reassured that he isn't about to be gutted in his own house. but he trusts logan as much as he does anyone these days.
it's his own stupid fault for coming in here. his heart's in his throat for a blinding second, and quixotically this does not prevent him from registering the hard planes of lean muscle pinning him heavy to the bed. instinct without telepathy makes him feel like a blazing idiot at times. now would be one of those times. when logan eases back charles covers his face, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes to obliterate any glimpses he might've caught of that body.
he's not thinking about it. he's not thinking about anything. ]
My fault. I shouldn't have... [ god, he should just get up and go back to his own bed. the last thing he needs is to go getting tangled up in someone else's bad sleeping habits. if logan has bad dreams, charles has no advice to offer him for that predicament. he has plenty of his own demons to battle. ] Never mind.
[ it's easy to adopt that bright, biting tone he gets when he wants to laugh something off. he's made up his mind to just leave and forget this as a wayward impulse, but he makes the mistake of looking at logan as he sits up on one elbow and all he can think of are the sounds he was making in his sleep, fitful and haunted. ]
...I think Hank's the only one who sleeps, here.
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Logan continues to look both haunted and guilty. He can hear Charles' heart thundering away, racing from fear... because of him.]
No, it's- [He pauses and looks around in confusion.] What're you- did you need something? [Apparently, finishing sentences just wasn't a thing he was very keen on doing tonight.
He tilts his head, making him look even more like an animal, a dog cocking it's head in curiosity as it tried to work something out. Charles' is quick to dismiss the whole thing, and even quicker to offer up a distraction. Logan doesn't take the bait, eyes still narrowed as he tries to piece together what had brought Charles' into his room. Had he really been that loud? Not that he should really be surprised, his nightmares had woken plenty of people, but Charles' comment made him think otherwise.]
Trouble sleeping? [He gives the younger man a look of empathy, obviously he knows how that goes.] I wasn't keeping you up, was I?
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it's his house, and yet charles is keenly aware that he doesn't belong here. he feels like he's intruding somehow, and with logan asking him whether he needs something it makes the transgression all the more obvious. no, he doesn't need anything. he came here out of sympathy, because he forgot for a moment that he can't even help himself. that's embarrassing more than it is anything else. it makes him reluctant to explain, but logan did ask. ]
I don't need anything. [ other than a firm grip on reality, but he's not so sure logan can help with that. no one can. ] I didn't mean to - I'm sorry if I startled you.
[ he gestures aimlessly, waving a hand between them, as if to reference what just happened. he does have an explanation in a roundabout way, although he's deeply reluctant to spit it out. ]
I suppose I wanted to... [ charles sighs and looks over at logan, briefly making eye contact. ] I didn't want you to think you were alone. [ that's horribly sincere and he doesn't know what to do with himself after he's said it. he should've just offered the man a whiskey and had done with it. although, technically, he can still do that. ]
Want a drink?
[ like nothing that came before even applies, and the softer, vulnerable parts of him can be concealed that easily. ]
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He looks up, brow knitting slightly as he searches the other man's face at the claim he didn't need anything. It meant, presumably, that he'd come in to check on Logan when he'd heard him, which was... well, it was a little touching.] No. You didn't. [In his hurry to reassure Charles that an apology wasn't necessary, he reaches out, putting his hand on the other man's thigh. He freezes as soon as what he was doing actually sinks in and it takes him a beat to realize where his hand is, react, and then pull his hand away again, definitely drawing way more attention to the innocent gesture than he needed to. Still he was determined to adamantly reassure Charles that he appreciated the concern.] You didn't startle me. The nightmares... they've been happening for years now. I, uh - it's better to be woken up.
[Again he looks up at Charles in the dark, trying to study his face, discern his thoughts. And again he can't help but feel gratitude.] Thanks... [There's another pause and it felt like unspoken words were hanging thickly in the air, just waiting to be said, but Logan's also quick to latch onto the offer of a drink.]
Love one. [He cracks a crooked smile, but doesn't move yet. His pants, his only pants, are on the floor next to the bed.] Meet you in the kitchen?
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logan's arrival in his life has meant that he can't indulge in his usual avenues of escape. he's had to be uncomfortably present, and in the absence of being consistently high or drunk he's had - logan. logan present in his peripheral, to provide support or forward momentum, to keep charles going and to keep an eye on their perimeter. it's been an equally long time since charles has let himself rely on anyone but hank.
when logan alludes to the fact that he's had nightmares for years, charles can't help his reaction. he reaches out in the dark, fingers hesitantly grazing logan's jaw, his knuckles running over the scruff that forms the bottom of his sideburn before he lets his hand drop. ]
I'm sorry. [ again. about the nightmares. nobody deserves to suffer like that. and charles might feel as if he has no empathy left inside of him, but he's discovering hidden reserves here and there. it's unsettling. like waking up after a long sleep. he never would've touched him if his powers were intact, but there's a safety net in place for charles that he can sympathize without feeling all the pain that another person's suffering. he glances down over logan's chest and figures it's probably time to get out of his bed. ] I'll, um. Yeah.
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He starts when Charles reaches for him, pulling back slightly on instinct before stilling. He doesn't realize he's holding his breath until the hand drops away and he's left sitting there with a strange mess of emotions mixing with confusion.]
Huh? [Logan wasn't sure what the apology was for, but his mind is on Charles' hand, the ghosting feeling on his cheek, misinterpreting everything.] I didn't- I didn't mind. [He leans forward slightly, shifting in the bed and hating how loud the springs creaked and the sheets rustled, making his movement obvious. The younger man hadn't moved yet, though. He almost seemed reluctant to. Another misinterpretation.] We don't have to. [Go get a drink, he meant. Or maybe he was giving Charles an out. He wasn't sure anymore.
He leans in closer, this time without shifting, quietly closer, close enough to inhale Xavier's scent. He pauses, stilling for a moment, giving the younger man ample opportunity to move away, before he tentatively moves his hand up over his shirt, fingertips snagging on fabric before he fists a handful of it. Again, he pauses, doesn't pull Charles any closer, not that he'd really have to. If he leaned in just a little bit more they'd be close enough to feel each other's breaths, practically brush lips.]
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he's thinking about all this now because it seems easier than confronting his current reality, with the possibly naked man in his bed. well, technically right now it's logan's bed.
charles is good at avoiding things. he's become an absolute champion at it, considering his recently reclusive lifestyle. there are a million ways he could get out of this, and the impulse is strong. a part of him still wants that drink. he could pretend to spill it, clumsy hands, half asleep. then he'd have a reason to excuse himself. it'd be easy. he could do it, and then he'd never have to think about this again. all he has to do is move.
but all he can think about is the creak of the springs beneath him and logan's weight bearing closer to him on the bed. his chest is rising and falling in rapid beats, uncertain of himself and what he's still doing here. logan's hand on his chest makes him swallow. he feels like he should offer some kind of explanation, take action instead of sitting here stunned. a variety of possibilities crowd his senses, all of them to do with logan and the sheets over him and how charles hasn't been this close to anyone this undressed in probably over ten years now. ]
Logan... [ god help him, he does not have a follow-up for that. and he wants... he's not sure he knows how to do this anymore. it used to come so easily. ]
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His focus is on the telepath's mouth as he says his name, and only that, just his name. He waits, expecting a 'no' to follow that, but it doesn't come, the silence just settles back down around them. It's not exactly the direction he wants, but it's enough.
He tightens the hold he has on Charles' shirt and drags him closer, spanning the space between them. He gives him one last opportunity, a pause with their mouths hovering half a breath apart, before tilting his head and pulling Charles hard against him, making the younger man's lips crash against his own.
There was a rush of heat behind the kiss, the momentum and release of tension that had been building since the first day when he'd barged into the mansion, since their first heated argument, and his pleas for Charles to believe him. The frustration of their failures, all the tumultuous emotions behind Erik's release, everything, poured into this.
His other hand tangles into Charles' long hair as he parts his lips, giving himself up to the heat of the moment without hesitation.]
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he breathes in sharply when logan pulls him in, arms going around his shoulders to anchor that closeness, all of charles's frustrations and disappointments of the past few days coming to a head. erik's rescue and the fight they'd hand on the plane, logan's presence a comforting ballast against the ugly, raw regrets that had threatened to sweep charles away. and then paris and further betrayal, the mess and the fallout of everything that'd happened there.
he just wants to feel something other that completely dejected for a few, bare moments. he wants to put aside the impossible odds and the people who've abandoned him and think about something simple for a change - the shift of muscle under logan's warm skin and the tug of his hand in charles's hair. a soft sound escapes his lips as he licks into logan's mouth, wrapping his hand around the nape of his neck to pull him closer. ]
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Like Charles, Logan had just as much on his mind that he needed a moment away from. The survival of mutantkind, in many ways, was resting on his shoulder right now, and so far, he'd failed.
Anxiety melts away as all his thoughts are preoccupied with Charles' mouth on his, the quiet hummed groan that's muffled into the kiss as he parts his lips and Charles' tongue slips past them. The invasion is welcome, returned with heated eagerness, and the space he'd left the telepath, space to push him back or move away from him, was quickly diminishing as they both tugged and pulled at each other, seeking out more contact. Charles' fingers brush through the short hair on his neck and it sends a shudder down his spine, makes him let go of the hold he has on the younger man's shirt in favor of fumbling to push the fabric up and out of the way, fingers seeking out skin to dig into and muscles to knead to draw the other man closer still.]
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the handsome young man he was at oxford feels like worlds away now. he doesn't know what could possibly have drawn logan in when he's nothing more than a miserable collection of coping mechanisms held together by whiskey and hank's serum.
but he's not exactly interested in asking questions when logan's mouth is on his and logan's hand is sliding up his shirt to grab his chest beneath. charles's breath catches in his throat and he takes that as permission to touch him in return, bringing up his free hand to land hesitantly against logan's big shoulder, giving him a hesitant squeeze as he pulls him forward.
he is beautifully built, something charles hasn't allowed himself to notice until now, and he's grateful that the hot flush of appreciation he feels won't hop mind to mind. ]
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It was hard to separate what personality traits might stem from his mutation and what were just him, but the single minded primal drive, much like the blind rage that always threatened to swallow him whole during fights, had to stem from that. Despite feeling overwhelmed with the raw need to touch, and to cover Charles with his scent, claim him, he was still positioning himself to give the younger man a path of escape. He's still expecting at any moment that the telepath will come to his senses and shove him away. It wouldn't change much, they'd just go back to pretending there wasn't the slightest hint of attraction between them. It'd be easy.
He slides his hand up Charles' back, fingers fanned to trail over as much skin as he could, bunching the fabric of his shirt up with it. The press of the other man's lips is building a pleasant buzz, he wants to move down his jaw, to his neck, taste it all, but breaking the kiss and freeing Charles' mouth meant offering him an opportunity to tell Logan to stop. He just didn't feel confident enough to risk it. Not yet.
Instead, he leans into his touch, silently encouraging Charles to continue while drawing him closer.]
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there's a part of him that doesn't think they could get any closer. he proves himself wrong by shifting his weight and pushing himself closer along the bed until he's practically in logan's lap, sheets or no.he should have some pride and feel a little ashamed of himself, being so forward, but charles is well beyond the point of being embarrassed in front of logan, of all people. he can safely say the other man's seen him at his worst.
which again, makes the fact that they're in this position all the more bewildering to charles. but it's not enough of a dilemma to keep him from nipping lightly at logan's lower lip, tugging it with his teeth before licking at the corner of his mouth, letting his hands travel over his shoulders and slightly down his chest before he wraps his arms around his neck again, leaning back and pulling logan with him. ]
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With all of that, it's not hard at all to stick by Charles, to have faith and patience with him, to be there to quietly offer support each time he stumbles. And somewhere along the way this had happened, the looks had changed, the reassuring touches had lingered for a little too long.
Logan is more than happy to accommodate Charles as he shifts closer, strong arms wrapping firmly around him to draw him in. With Charles practically in his lap, it forces him to tilt his head back, the angle making the kiss feel deeper, added a feverish hunger to it. His shaky, needy breath is audible in the quiet of the night when Charles pulls back to tease with light nips and tugs to his lip that makes Logan growl in anticipation and desire.
Charles leaning back and dragging Logan with him triggers something in Logan. It mirrors their earlier position, less claws and threatening growls. Logan tangles a hand into Charles' long hair, tugging to give him easier access as tongue and teeth find the younger man's jaw line and trail down to his neck. He keeps it light, consciously not wanting to leave any marks. He moves lower, wanting to get to skin where he doesn't have to be so careful, where he can really sink his teeth into Charles.
The shirt needs to go, hopefully Charles wasn't too attached to it, because in a quick movement one claw slides from Logan's hand to shred messily at the fabric. Stupid bone claws. It gets the job done though, lets him tear it out of the way so he can get to his collarbone, immediately leaving a bruise.]
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knowing he can trust logan fills him a flush of warmth and affection both, flooding through his smaller frame as logan's weight settles heavily over top of him. the sounds charles is making aren't anything he'd claim as his own, soft and hungry and desperate, his hands running down over logan's shoulders, then raking light up his back with his nails. ]
Logan.
[ there goes his shirt. the way he says his name should make it obvious he doesn't have any intentions of telling him to stop. he nudges his knee against logan's thigh, pushing himself tentatively up against his mouth in encouragement. he knows from the bright mixture of pain and pleasure both that blooms at his collar bone that it's going to bruise, but he couldn't care less. ]
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Logan shifts at the nudge, consciously not even registering what he's doing, just moving so they can both have more friction. Tugging again at Charles' hair, he flattens his tongue to lap at the bruise he's given him before moving back up his neck, teeth grazing possessively over his skin.
Unceremoniously, he pushes a hand down between them, eliciting another rumbling, deep moan when he palms over Charles through the thin fabric of pajama bottoms. The question of whether or not they should be doing this was far from the forefront of his mind. He'd shifted to something more instinctive, moving to fulfill a need in both of them.
He rocks his hips again, grinding against the younger man.] Fuck. Charles. [It's breathless and whispered, heavy with desire.]
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it's all he can do to just hold onto him, his mouth falling open when logan grinds their hips together. there's a kind of flushed, excited panic that ripples through him at the feel of logan's teeth on his throat and logan's hand shoved between them. he just has this sense that maybe he should say something, like he should warn him that it's been literally years and he's already falling apart at the seams over how much he wants this and how much he wants logan.
but it's hard to find the words and it's easier to hook his leg around the back of logan's and roll his hips up into him, doing what he can to lock their bodies together and hold logan as close as he can keep him - at least as much as he can without working against the hand between his legs and the halting rhythm of the movement they were working toward.
when he hears him say his name, it's all he can do not to whimper. he makes a muffled sort of sound instead, biting the corner of logan's jaw. ]
Whatever you want. Anything. We can - [ well, anything is pretty clear. ]
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Logan willingly let's himself get swallowed up by it, submerged in the noise of Charles' quick, sharp breaths, the way his heart sped up and raced, pulse quickening at bites and touches, and his own quiet growls and groans. All under the overwhelming scent that was Charles; it made him hungry to press his lips against his skin and bury his face against the telepath's neck, breathing him in as he continued to grind insistently into the other man.
He hadn't realized he'd said anything, the words spoken in an exhale, but Charles' voice is clear and makes him pull back and blink as he actually slows enough to process thoughts. Stopping to think was almost jarring, driving home just how much he hadn't thought this through.]
What, um... [He ends up getting impatient with himself. He doesn't want to think or ask about lube, or condoms, or any of it. He doesn't want Charles going anywhere, and he isn't about to get up. It narrows their options slightly.
Instead of dwelling on it, any of it, he just closes his eyes and rocks his hips down against Charles' again, a slow intentional grind that draws a shaky, groaned breath from him.] Nevermind. [He leans back in, nipping at Charles' jaw, the scruff scratching his lips, and slides a hand between them. Palming Charles' through the thin pajama pants, he growls quietly against his skin. The rest of Charles' clothing really needed to go.]
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when logan looks at him, charles feels both hopelessly inadequate and also like he could be something greater than he is, like he could be the inspiring figure that brought logan across time to be with him.
these days, he couldn't even talk himself into doing anything. logan's hips grind down into his and it pushes the air from charles's lungs, makes him feel like he couldn't move even if he wanted to. since he started experimenting with the serum, he's had some idea of what it's like to suddenly lose control of his faculties, and that's remarkably similar to what he's feeling now. except, of course, that he chose to be here. he wanted this. he wanted logan. ]
Hmm? [ he's honestly distracted for a moment trying to work out what he's asking. he even naturally tries to drift questioningly toward the unfinished statement in his mind before he remembers that he can't. ] What...
[ his voice comes out hoarse, strained on a low sound of obvious pleasure when logan drags their hips together, slow and heavy and deliberate. nevermind is an answer he's suddenly willing to take, since he can scarcely think, let alone sort out a reply. charles squeezes his back hard under his hand before he lets go, reaching behind him to grip the headboard for leverage. it gives him something to push back against so he can rub himself up against logan with the same kind of force that he's got charles pinned to the bed with.
as he feels logan's hand sliding heavy between their legs, charles's head falls back against the pillow beneath him. he works his own free hand down too, trying to push at the elastic waist of his pajama pants. suddenly going to bed dressed seems like a huge oversight on his part. ]