open post | 3 | kink

[meerkats]

 

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husband

[trainings]

[magneten]

[ For years, Erik avoided showers. A shower-head became in itself a bad omen, and he prefers still to not be under them. The shriek at him in their steaming hiss. He is not a child anymore though, he's had to face his fears time and time again until standing under a shower-head was easy--and he can't blame Alex for accidentally destroying to pipe that ran to the tub in Charles' adjoined bathroom.

Well he can, but he's not going to throw a tantrum over a shower that he sorely needs.

So he suffers through feeling mildly trapped behind glass and under the rather elaborate set up as he washes the sweat of hard work away. He doesn't bother wrapping his towel around around his waist as he comes out to Charles' bedroom--there's no need to be modest anymore, with what they've done the last few nights in a row. He merely has it slung around his neck and he goes searching for underwear. ]

[trainings]

[ The kids, as Charles has so affectionately calls them from time to time, are learning, training nicely. It's exhausting, of course, but the payoff is nice -- seeing the kids grow closer together, trust each other and him more and more everyday, it's something that kind of makes him feel like a gooey mess inside. Like he's making a difference, like he's important. Not that he's shallow to want fame, but.

Inside lecture halls was never the place for him.

If working with the kids is exhausting, though, it's nothing compared to keeping up with Erik -- Charles should really say no sometimes, get s full night of sleep, but he can't properly help himself. He doesn't think he should be blamed, what with Erik being all Erik at him, using his shower, being endlessly charming in his cynical, depressing sort of way. Charles comes back to the room and strips himself off his clothes and, hearing the water running, he lets his mind wander to all the taunt curves and lines of Erik's body, a particular indulgence he's been gluttonous on recently.

He doesn't really consider it when he flops down on his bed ( their bed, practically now ), wrapping at hand around his cock and stroking to hardness. It's an idle, thoughtless thing, the only thing replaying in Charles' mind a reflection of nights in the past, Erik's body, his thick cock, his warm lips. ]

Oh. [ He doesn't notice when Erik comes out, but once he realizes he's not alone, Charles peeks an eye open, flushing, trying to tuck his sheepish grin into the pillow beneath him. ] This isn't my proudest moment.

[magneten]

[ Erik would be less inclined than Charles to call it their bed, with his own just across the hall rather unslept in as of late. Still, admitting cohabitation would be a commitment he's not ready to make so early in the game, when so many pieces are still in play that need to take down the king on the other side of the board.

That would come soon, sooner still as the threat of war approached in the distance, but for now he just grins over his shoulder at Charles. He glances down at his cock in his hands and back up at his face with mock judgement, even though he can feel himself stirring in the pit of his stomach. ]

With all of the time you've spent becoming a professor, one would think you would have learned patience.

[trainings]

[ He laughs, attempting to muffle it into the pillow while he gives himself a few more idle strokes. Not anything moan-worthy, though that might be because he's a bit shy to show off in front of Erik -- not that he has anything to hide, of course, but no amount of sex will stop it from being embarrassing. ]

One would not make such a statement after meeting you. [ He winks, obviously and with purpose, despite using romantic words there's a joke behind them, a tease. Dropping his cock with a silent sound of discontent, Charles kneels up on the bed, sitting on his heels. He extends a hand. ]

Come, now. You've cleaned yourself up, allow me the chance to dirty you again.

[magneten]

[ The look Erik shoots Charles for the come on is playfully judgmental, because the fruit hands low to so speak and it's easy to say when you have already been intimate with the target. He slides the towel off of his shoulders and drapes it on the dresser, though, instead of continuing to find something to support his balls.

If the experiences of the last few days told him anything it was that he had someone else to help him with that.

He takes the few steps to Charles' bed and with knees upon the mattress presses his hands to either side of the headboard, cornering Charles against it. ]

Alright, go ahead. Dirty me again.