Falling

Charles had many adjectives for himself, broken was one of them; empty was the other.
Some things in his life were ironic, feeling the nothing corrupted his being a telepath was also haunting his thoughts some nights.
He was looking out the window of the huge mansion, eyes glazed over the falling snow as he listened to the crackle of wood burning over the fireplace and smelled whiskey near his nose; his lanky body as far as he could in the armchair, in clothes more worn than he could remember.
The blue of his iris reflected the bitterness of that soul, maybe he was drunker than he thought, and that was a dangerous sign.
Christmas had arrived, and many parents came to pick up their children to spend the holiday at home with people they loved and enjoyed the company of.
It wasn't that Charles didn't have family or people he loved, he had Hank, Raven and Alex. A trio that were more family to him than the ones he'd been raised; he loved his students as much as he loved the idea of one day being able to live together without being afraid of humans
But sometimes it just didn't seem like enough.
He returned his gaze to the nearby chessboard, intact and well placed; he didn't even remember the last match he played. Perhaps a game with a student, or with him.
The last thing to think about on December 24th was your ex-boyfriend who left you paralyzed and fighting human repression with terrorism; but hey, offbeat and nostalgic were also adjectives he gave himself.
At some point so far out of his control he remembered how he still had one or two of Erik's jackets in the closet, on the coldest nights he'd take them out of the closet and wrap them around his slightly smaller body. When they were left there, Charles could still smell Erik employed on the clothes; yet that had been years and now they smelled of his fabric softener when he washed them secretly.
Remembering jackets reminded him of when he'd put his hands in his pockets to warm up from the freezing cold outside, or of Erik's own hands—Big, callused—holding his tightly to warm up. Hands that fit so well in his, a perfect mold for a sculpture that, in everyone's eyes, was perfect; but it slowly broke down.
Charles could still feel his arms around his waist, holding him tightly as he was going to walk away at any moment. The gray eyes clouded with passion and tenderness, but also with lust in the cold and delicious mornings.
He remembered that time fondly, forcing himself to think of Erik now as the enemy, the man in the helmet who beat his children and killed innocent humans without resentment. Xavier felt the thick taste of the pure lie on his tongue, spreading through every vital organ and twisting him to the edge of the impossible.
He got up — not least because he went back to using Hank's injections in secret for a few months now. After all, why be the most powerful mind on earth and not be able to sleep, have dreams mixed with reality and wake up screaming without remembering your non-functional legs. — and went to the table to get another glass; It was Christmas Eve and Charles was celebrating in the least happy way possible.
Long live the drink and its miracles of memory lapses! Charles thought, smiling ironically.
— Charles. - a deep voice called him, he knew that tone of intimate ways and, deep down, he didn't believe his night was going to end that way.
“Raven, if you're back early from your trip, I politely ask you to stop. He turned fully now, seeing Erik without his pompous magenta armor and helmet.
Damn that ridiculous helmet.
“You know I'm not Raven, Charles. Erik opens his arms and lifts them to his chest. - Do not be stupid.
"Well, if that's so..." He sat back in the armchair, trying to calm down and speak indifferently. "To what do I owe the majestic great and dangerous Magneto?"
"When did you start walking again?" Erik asked, ignoring the previous question, he leaned against the fireplace, still crackling the pleasant warmth of the room.
“I didn't come back, I'm taking Hank's shots. Charles stares at the fire with disgust, drinking a large amount of whiskey. — then you can take off your helmet. I'm totally vulnerable like....
He doesn't finish the sentence.
Erik considers it for a moment, and then removes the protective metal from his head, his hair a little longer since the last time he'd seen it without. He makes a movement with his hand and the object goes to the table floating in a stable way.
"You shouldn't take this, your powers are part of an important foundation of this school and…"
“What do you really want, Erik? Tell me Merry Christmas and exchange gifts? How about my gift be a peck on the cheek under a mistletoe? - Charles looks at him, tired and stressed. With the blue of your eye reflecting in the flames, blue eyes surrounded by fragments of drunkenness, loneliness and despair.
- I...
"Would you like to spank the kids today too?" Sorry, but most of them are at home having fun.
- It's not that! Erik's pitch rises two octaves, his hand trembled for a moment. “I'd like to stay here…with you.
“Oh really? And what will it be this time? Are you going to take the movement out of my arm? Become quadriplegic? Or I already know! Charles yelled this time, jumping up in his chair and coming face to face with the man who terrorizes your nightmares and loves you in your dreams. "You want to fuck me, don't you?" Come on Erik, you get everything you need.
“I'm a little surprised to see you think so badly of me. Erik tries to get closer, but Charles pulls away, as if the slightest touch between them would burn them both. “I just wanted to come here and play chess and drink alcohol and pretend we live in the bubble we imagine.
— What bubble? The one you're at home with or the one that the great Brotherhood doesn't beat the X-Men? Xavier looks at him with contempt, Lehnsherr deflects him like a bullet. — Play chess, really? I never thought you were stupid to come here Erik, but every time you open your mouth my expectations are exceeded.
— Charles, enough. - Magneto heaves a sigh, the metal in the room starts to hum - You're drunk.
— Let me know the obvious! O great master of magnetism! Charles lifts his empty glass and trips over his own feet.
A weary sigh from Erik breaks the sharp silence between them, Xavier didn't have to have telepathy to know that Lehnsherr would leave. He turned and prepared to step out the window he'd left when he heard a deep breath behind him.
“Go away Erik, that's what you always do. - The Telepath muttered - Everyone I've loved has done it. You are just one more on the wheel.
Erik Lehnsherr's red hair swayed a little with his back, he walked with stiff strides and a less than happy face towards the sad face. He grabbed Xavier by his pajama collar and lifted him up.
“You have no right to say that!
- And why not?
“Because I've only done what's necessary for our species to exist for the last eight years, while you and your bunch of brats have only wanted to disrupt my plans and pretend a peaceful coexistence with the Divergent Race.
- Stop touching me! — Charles snarled, forcing his hands to loosen his clothing — You know, it's interesting to analyze, as you call them the divergent race. A few years ago they did something very similar to this in the country... Oh yes, in Germany! He spits out the words in derision, Lehnsherr's face doused with anger. “Where are you even from Erik?
Xavier feels the scissors he'd left there days ago under his throat, the icy metal shivering against his thyroid, ready to cut.
He knew deep down that this wasn't going to happen.
“You'll regret it if you bring up this subject one more time. — The hate distilled in every letter and syllable — Everything I did was to protect us mutants from disgusting, scared pigs! I did what I did for the future and I don't regret any actions at all.
'Not even in Cuba?' Not even on that beach? Don't you regret putting me in this deplorable situation, Erik, dear? I can barely feel my hips without this suppressive injection drug
The comment was well received as the scissors still held against his throat fell before his feet and the other's face softened, bordering on hurt.
"I-I" Xavier could have sworn he saw tears welling up in his eyes "You think I don't think about the beach?" That I don't feel disgusted about that day every time I wake up or that it doesn't affect my dreams?
“From your speech, yes.
That broke them all apart. Erik approached, invading Charles' personal space.
“Then let me clarify something, Schatz. Sometimes the sorority protected their beloved school by going into the grassroots with government finances months before they tried to enter its pristine sanctuary. I'm sorry if your fairy tales where they are great heroes was under imagination. About Cuba….” Charles could feel the other's breath hot on his cheek, a welcome warmth if it weren't for all the circumstances of the biggest motherfucker in the universe. “There isn't a day I don't regret it, liebling. I promised myself something a long time ago and seeing that I don't fulfill it is overwhelming, suffocating.
Erik finishes, he pulls away but not as much as he should, they're eye to eye like they haven't been in a long, long time. Xavier staggered back a little then, stunned by Lehnsherr's statement, the opaque eyes fixed again with the greenish brown ones and pain flashed across his face.
Silence prevailed between them, somehow calm and comforting; it was so vulnerable, so brittle the way they both ended up. Some nights Erik could sleep without waking up to his own screams, and other nights he was almost convinced Charles was there.
— Unfortunately, Erik. Charles began, he wouldn't look him in the eye now, perhaps out of shame or a feeling entirely rediscovered, a feeling that Xavier took a long time to dig deep into his being when he could see nothing more than four blank walls without moving even a second. the functional muscles — It no longer matters what things we've done, or individual promises made. Nothing will change the unfinished business between us.
He placed both hands on the edges of his helmet, the dark red was shimmering with memories of another life, of other people.
Sometimes Charles could barely recognize them.
“Now there is this between us, and we are fighting our own struggles and our own problems alone. - Erik's gaze was heavy, Xavier remembers watching that greenish one for hours on end, while the feeling was reciprocal.
When they had their own side.
Erik raised his arms and gently gripped Charles' wrists; taking them down as if they were made of glass. He leaned his head against his neck, looking so helpless and exposed.
Neither of them said anything.
Neither of them pulled away.
Neither of them said about the helmet taken off sometime after that, nor about the kisses that began.
What happened after that, they barely remember.
There are not enough words to explain the feeling, sensation of fullness and infinity that both felt. The pain of separation and the emptiness that will test until it's all over.
Charles anxiously hopes that after all, Erik will be alive. he needs to be
Erik could only remember how he promised after reaching his first base with his teammates that, in the end, he will protect the only person who cared for him, who gave him enough love in the face of all the hate and sadness beneath the manic mask. and voracious.
He would return to Charles Xavier, even if he is dragged along and begging forgiveness for all the things necessary for the cause.
There was no proper farewell, there was no I love you conveyed by prayers.
In the end, there's only the memory and the thrill of falling