Chapter Text
The click of the door latching behind them was quiet, but it seemed almost deafeningly loud to Charles’ ears after the revelry of the wedding feast that had dragged on until the early hours of the morning. The feast had passed in a blur of music and food and introductions to seemingly every member of the Genoshan court; Charles had barely registered any of it. The only thing that kept him grounded was the feeling of Erik’s hand tightly intertwined with his own, refusing to let go even for a moment. Their hands were still locked together now as they took in the room; the suite was almost impossibly grand, second only to the King and Queen’s own, and every surface was adorned with candles, casting an almost ethereal glow.
A large, four-poster bed occupied part of the room, the heavy curtains resplendent in the Genoshan colours and contrasting beautifully with the warm, dark wood that formed the frame, intricately carved to resemble twisting vines. A fireplace with two surprisingly comfortable-looking armchairs faced the bed, and between them was a glass door that Charles guessed must lead out onto a balcony.
“The balcony has a beautiful view; you can see right out over the lake during the daytime,” Erik informed him, clearly noticing where Charles’ gaze had landed. It was the first time either of them had spoken since they left the feast, and the sound of Erik’s voice so close to his own ear set off a trail of goosebumps down Charles’ neck.
“The lake?” Charles asked, proud when his voice came out far steadier than he was expecting. “We must be on the same side of the castle as the library then,” he mused, mostly to himself.
“No, the library’s in the south wing… Oh wait, you mean my library! Yes, we’re just a floor above it actually.”
“Your library?” Charles asked, the pieces starting to slot into place in his mind.
“Yes, ah, you may have come across my personal library, the one attached to my rooms, when you got lost that time,” Erik told him, looking somewhat sheepish.
“So you mean to say that I was in the prince’s private library, with the prince, and I had no idea?” Charles was torn between being amused and absolutely mortified. He had always prided himself on his quick wit and sharp mind, and the sudden realisation of all the obvious clues he’d missed was utterly humiliating. He could feel the blood burning in his cheeks as he dropped gracelessly into one of the armchairs, pulling his hand away from Erik’s in order to hide his face in both hands. Instead of occupying the other chair, Erik dropped to his knees next to Charles and patted the top of his head in an awkwardly endearing manner that made Charles melt a little inside.
“Not to make you feel worse, but you believed me when I told you that apprentices could use the royal libraries after hours?” Erik’s tone was only softly mocking, but Charles glared at him from between his fingers all the same.
“I thought that Genosha just had a surprisingly admirable education system for apprentices!” Charles defended weakly, giving Erik another baleful glare when Erik’s face twisted into wry amusement.
Clearly satisfied that Charles wasn’t about to have a mental breakdown any time in the next few minutes, Erik rose and folded himself elegantly into the other armchair, his long legs stretched out so that their ankles tangled together. The physical contact was simultaneously unsettling and reassuring, and Charles lifted his head from his hands to see Erik staring at him with a soft smile that made him feel oddly vulnerable.
Now that the connections were starting to be forged in his brain, Charles started to realise more and more of the things that had never quite added up about “Max”; his obviously high level of education, his clothes, which were both far too fine and far too clean to belong to an apprentice blacksmith, the fact that he only ever seemed to be needed at the armoury at the same time as Charles’ fittings for his wedding clothes… It was almost embarrassingly obvious in hindsight.
“We’re both complete idiots, aren’t we?” Charles finally said, leaning back in his chair to better watch Erik’s face as it split into a magnificently toothy grin.
“Absolutely. I mean for one thing, Francis? Who could ever look at you and think your name was Francis? Charles suits you much better,” Erik said, his eyes roving across Charles’ face and body appraisingly.
“It’s my middle name, so it was the first name that popped into my head! Mind you, I’m quite glad you didn’t opt for the same strategy, Erik Magnus.” Erik winced playfully at the mention of his middle name.
“Low blow, Xavier, low blow. Max was the name of my first horse, actually.”
“Just as well you went with Max, I’m not sure I ever could have fallen in love with someone called Magnus,” Charles informed Erik, trying to make his voice sound as serious as possible, although judging by Erik’s chuckle, it wasn’t overly effective.
“Speaking of horses, do you know anything about horses at all, Mr. Stablehand?”
“Very little,” Charles informed him cheerfully. “Although I daresay more than you know about blacksmithing.” Erik nodded agreeably at the assessment, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made Charles want to lean across the space between them and kiss him until neither of them could remember who they were, let alone who they had pretended to be. He was about to do just that when a crease began to form between Erik’s eyebrows, a frown settling in across his handsome face.
“Erik?” Charles asked, and for the first time since the carriage ride away from the church, his traitorous voice wavered.
“I asked you… before I knew who you were, I asked you what Prince Charles was like. What you were like. You told me that you were arrogant and stubborn and that you hurt people… Charles,” Erik’s voice was suddenly forceful, “you don’t honestly believe these things about yourself?” Erik’s forehead was so deeply creased that Charles was worried that it would never smooth out again, and the urgency in Erik’s voice was almost frightening.
“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, Erik,” he began, holding up a hand to stem the denial that was clearly on the tip of his husband’s tongue, and tangling their fingers together once more. “I’m not always the easiest person to get along with, as a lot of people will happily tell you. I can be condescending and insensitive and, yes, I do hurt people by failing to acknowledge the reality of a situation. Look at us! I know that, somehow, against all the odds, we’re together, but as far as we both knew, this was doomed from the start, and we both decided to ignore that and risk breaking both of our hearts. I guess we’re more alike than I thought we would be.” He almost laughed, pressing his lips to Erik’s hand, revelling in the ridiculous twists of fate that had bound them so irrevocably together.
Erik, however, didn’t seem appeased. “You’re perfect, Charles, and your flaws don’t detract from that.” Charles wanted to protest the contradiction, but now it was Erik’s turn to steamroller over any denials. “You’re nothing like what I thought you would be. I always thought that people from Westchester were stuffy, and passive, and cared more about books and retaining their neutrality than about their people. Charles, you care more than anyone I’ve ever met, and if that means that you look for the good in people and situations more than you should… There’s no way I can hold that against you. Besides, both of us fell in love with each other while thinking we were engaged to someone else, so I can hardly blame you for that.” Erik’s eyes were warm as the side of his mouth quirked up in a self-deprecating grin.
“I thought Genoshans were all violent and proud and fearsome,” Charles admitted quietly, more than a little embarrassed to be confessing his prejudices. He searched Erik’s face for a trace of offense or anger, but instead all he saw was amusement glittering in Erik’s eyes.
“Are you saying I’m not fearsome?” Erik demanded, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably, let down by the grin overtaking his entire face. He stood abruptly, and before Charles knew it, had picked Charles up out of his own chair as if he weighed nothing. Charles squeaked in alarm (a fact that he would later contest – princes did not squeak) and threw his arms around Erik’s neck in an attempt to prevent him from falling out of Erik’s arms. The movement brought his and Erik’s faces very close together, and Charles was suddenly very aware that this was his wedding night, and what that entailed.
Erik seemed to have abruptly come to the same realisation, and their laughter trailed off, replaced only by the sounds of their breathing. It felt like the whole universe had frozen in place, leaving only the two of them, spiralling ever closer together like a planet being pulled inexorably towards a black hole. Their eyes locked, bright blue staring into pale grey-green. The moment stretched out for what could have been a small eternity, and then suddenly they were both moving at once, their mouths crashing together.
It was hardly the most dignified kiss, but Charles could hardly bring himself to care, his heart pounding as their lips slid together frantically, the angle that Erik was holding Charles at making it difficult to face each other fully. He distantly registered that Erik was moving, but it wasn’t until he was falling through the air onto the soft mattress that he realised that they had moved over to the bed. A thrill of nerves shot through him, but as soon as Erik lay down next to him, they dissolved into anticipation. Erik reached out to thread a hand through Charles’ hair, and then they were kissing again, pulling each other as close as possible, limbs tangling together. Charles rested one hand on the back of Erik’s head, and let the other one wander, brushing down Erik’s arm, then delicately tracing across his waist. Erik’s breath hitched as Charles’ hand brushed across a hipbone through his shirt, and suddenly Charles was very aware of how many layers they were wearing, and how much he wanted rid of them.
He pulled Erik so they were sitting upright, mouths still sliding against each other in a way that was making Charles more than a little light-headed, and started pushing Erik’s jacket off his shoulders. A small, distant part of his brain told him that he should probably feel bad for throwing the very beautiful piece of clothing across the room quite so unceremoniously, but the much larger part of him was a lot more interested in the fact that Erik was now brushing soft, teasing kisses up and down his neck. Charles arched his neck involuntarily, his breath sounding more like gasps now, and he could feel Erik smile against his skin before he licked a stripe up his neck. Charles’ head was spinning, the path that Erik’s tongue had traced up his neck almost burning, as he reached out to untie Erik’s cravat. He gave up on the third attempt, his hands shaking too hard and his brain far too distracted to complete what should have been a simple task.
Unwillingly, Charles batted Erik’s head away from the sensitive spot he had just discovered behind Charles’ ear. Erik looked devastating – the colour was high in his cheeks and his eyes were dark and glittering in the candlelight. Charles took a few steadying breaths, trying not to focus on how Erik’s hair was already in tousled disarray.
“Sorry, I couldn’t undo your… While you were doing…” Charles gestured vaguely between them, hoping that Erik would be able to infer the words that his brain was failing to provide him with. Erik smirked, just a little, before reaching up to untie his cravat, although Charles would see the slight tremor in his hands which suggested that Charles was hardly the only one so affected by their kissing. Charles stared unabashedly as the silky material came undone, slipping off and revealing the base of Erik’s throat. It was only when Erik started reaching for the hem of his shirt that Charles realised that he was still fully clothed, and he scrambled to remedy the situation, shedding his jacket, cravat and shirt in quick succession. He turned back to Erik as soon as he was done, and the sight of him nearly knocked the breath completely out of Charles’ lungs.
Erik was lean yet toned, his chest and stomach well-defined without being overly-muscled. His slightly tanned skin glowed golden in the candlelight, the contrast with Charles’ porcelain complexion obvious when he reached out a hand to rest on Erik’s chest, just above his heart. He pushed gently until Erik was forced to lie back on the bed, and Charles followed, propping himself up on his elbows. He ran one hand down Erik’s side experimentally, and a bolt of arousal shot through him when Erik let out a tiny gasp as Charles’ hand trailed back over his sensitive hipbone. He brushed his hand back over it again, this time with a little more force, and was rewarded with a loud, shaky intake of breath from Erik, whose eyes had slid closed, his head tipped back into the pillow. Charles’ hand started wandering further, smoothing across Erik’s flat stomach and up across his chest again, circling around Erik’s nipples repeatedly when the action elicited a sharp gasp.
It wasn’t until Charles sat up to straddle Erik’s thighs and give himself more unrestricted access to Erik’s body that he noticed how hard he had grown, but he was suddenly very aware of his cock straining against his trousers, achingly hard. He couldn’t help but brush his hand across the bulge in his trousers, and he hissed through his teeth at the hot pleasure that laced through his veins at the friction. He glanced down to see Erik staring up at him, eyes glassy with lust, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pulled in harsh, uneven breaths.
Charles leant down and kissed Erik, hot and desperate, their tongues sliding sinuously against each other as their hands grasped at sweat-damp skin. Charles could feel himself getting pulled down into the mindless desperation that Erik’s kisses seemed to induce in him, so he pulled away regretfully. Erik looked like he was about to protest until Charles started sliding down the bed until his head was level with Erik’s groin.
He brought up a tentative had to brush across the straining bulge in Erik’s trousers, and was rewarded with a sound from Erik that could only be described as a whimper. Charles took a deep breath to push down the arousal that was threatening to remove all of his higher brain functions, and pulled down Erik’s trousers and underwear until his cock sprang free. It was hard, slightly leaking pre-come, and was one of the most enticing things Charles had ever seen. He leaned forward to lick the pre-come off of the head, and couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the sound of Erik’s gasp. He took the base in one hand and began slowly pumping as he licked the head again, and then took the head in his mouth.
Erik stopped breathing entirely, and for a second Charles was concerned that he had done something wrong, but then one of Erik’s hands threaded through his hair whilst the other gripped the bedsheet tightly, and Charles risked moving his head slightly. Erik bit out a muttered curse and tightened his hand in Charles’ hair, and Charles took that as encouragement to keep going. He soon lost himself in the rhythm of bobbing his head up and down, his hand working the base of Erik’s cock while his tongue traced up and down the shaft, flicking harder at the spots that made Erik gasp loudly, his breath hitching as his free hand scrabbled for purchase against the bedsheets. Charles’ cock was almost painfully hard now, and he pushed his trousers and underwear off one-handedly, almost moaning at the relief. He rutted slowly against the sheets as he sucked lightly on the head of Erik’s cock, not wanting to come yet but unable to completely deny himself the tingling pleasure that was curling up his spine and heating his blood.
Charles glanced up through his lashes to see Erik staring down at him, looking utterly wrecked, his chest heaving with exertion as the blush that had started on his cheeks spread down his neck and across his collarbones. Charles bobbed his head one last time, taking Erik as deep as he would go, and Erik came with a strangled noise somewhere between a shout and a gasp. Charles swallowed the hot liquid, licking the last of it off Erik’s cock before moving back up the bed to kiss Erik desperately.
Erik looked slightly like he’d just been hit in the face with a shovel, and Charles would have found it incredibly endearing if he hadn’t been so achingly hard. Erik groaned into his mouth at the taste of him on Charles’ tongue and rolled them over so that he was pinning Charles down. Charles gasped as Erik started kissing his neck once more, licking and sucking and biting his way down to Charles’ collarbones as he began to roll his hips, rubbing against Charles in a way that was positively sinful. Charles could feel the last vestiges of his self-control slip away, and he rocked back against Erik’s hard stomach, feeling his breath hitching with every thrust. He could feel his orgasm building, his muscles tensing as everything other than Erik and Erik’s face and Erik’s body and the way Erik was moving against him fled his mind, replaced only by burning hot pleasure.
He came suddenly, a cry ripped from his throat as his vision whited out and his head fell backwards onto the pillow. He could feel hot come coating his stomach, but moving to clean it off felt like far more than he was currently capable of. As if he’d read his mind, Erik grabbed one of their discarded shirts from the floor and wiped the worst of it off both of them before lying down next to Charles. They laid on their sides, just staring at each other for several long, serene moments before Erik’s shark-like grin spread across his face, and Charles couldn’t help his answering smile.
They stayed like that until their breathing had evened out, heartrates returned to normal. Charles couldn’t help but stare at Erik, the sharp planes or his face and body providing a stark contrast to the softness in his eyes. Erik was staring back, his eyes never settling in one spot for long, drinking Charles in in a way that would have been uncomfortable if anyone else did it. How long they lay there, Charles couldn’t tell, but the candles were beginning to gutter out by the time either of them moved.
Erik brought his hand up to Charles’ face, his fingers tracing softly across his cheekbones before ghosting down his arm to tangle with his hand. Erik stared at where their fingers were intertwined with a soft smile, and Charles realised that he was gazing contemplatively at Charles’ wedding ring. He had barely registered it being put on during the wedding, much less looked at it, far too overwhelmed with love and fear and despair and Erik.
He brought his hand up to rest on the pillow between him, pulling Erik’s hand along with him, and gazed at the solid proof that he and Erik were married. It was made of soft, brushed silver, with a vein of gold twisting through the centre. Charles couldn’t see Erik’s ring from the angle he was at, but he was suddenly sure that it would be identical, but with the metals reversed.
“You know, I barely remember the ceremony at all,” Erik’s voice broke the quiet that had enveloped them, soft but still startling enough to make Charles jump a little.
“Me neither,” Charles admitted quietly, a sudden sadness that he couldn’t even recall the moment that he became Erik’s husband making itself known in his heart. Erik, however, seemed positively gleeful, grinning widely and pulling Charles up off the bed. Charles followed, confused but willing to go along with whatever idea had just put a gleam in Erik’s eyes. Erik tugged him over to wardrobe lurking in the corner, throwing some soft-looking clothes that Charles thought might have been his own at him, and barely giving him time to haphazardly dress himself before tugging at his hand again, this time towards the balcony.
Erik flung the balcony doors open, and Charles belatedly registered that the sun was starting to rise. They stepped out onto the balcony together, hands clasped tight while the first rays of the morning painted the sky in brilliant pinks and oranges, glinting off the lake serenely. Charles would have been content to gaze out at the view forever, but Erik pulled gently on his hand so that they turned to face each other, both of their hands clasping together between them. Erik gently slid the ring off Charles’ finger, ignoring his noise of protest, and instead folding his own ring into Charles’ palm.
“Charles, I swear to you that I will love you now and tomorrow and every day until my last. I swear that I will be there for you at every stage of our lives together, the good and the bad, never leaving your side. You are the other half of my soul, Charles, and I would move the heavens and the earth for you. I pledge to you my heart, my soul, and my life. I take thee as my husband.” Erik slid Charles’ ring back onto his finger reverently, tears glittering in his eyes. Charles’ breath caught in his chest, his hand trembling slightly as Erik raised it to his mouth to kiss the ring he had just placed there.
“Erik, I promise you that my love for you will never fail, never falter, through all the years we will spend together. I promise that I will love you, cherish you, and comfort you, fearlessly and forever. I promise that you will never be alone. I pledge to you my heart, my soul, and my life. I take thee as my husband.”
Charles slid the ring onto Erik’s finger, and smiled through his tears at Erik, who was staring at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. Charles kissed his husband’s ring, and then stretched up on his tiptoes to press his lips gently to Erik’s, arms winding round his neck as Erik’s curled around his waist. The kiss was short and gentle, and Charles pulled away to rest his head on Erik’s broad, warm shoulder. Their right hands intertwined, and as if as one, they began to move in slow circles across the balcony, waltzing to the beat of their hearts.
Behind them, the sun rose.