Chapter 8
Charles ducked his head under the steaming rush of hot water and held his breath, trying to clear his head. He was more grateful than he could possibly say that the government had gone all out for this suite. It was the finest in the hotel, and possibly in the city.
With marble countertops, a dining area, den, two king-sized bedrooms with and two full bathrooms it was more of a luxury penthouse than a grand hotel. It was even more nicely appointed than Charles’ brownstone.
https://www.baccarathotels.com/guest-rooms-and-suites/harcourt-two-bedroom-suite
Their things had been unpacked by the time they arrived and his belongings were in the massive room with two double beds. The Admiral got the other room, the one with the king sized bed. and that mental image didn't bear thinking about.
Right now he was hiding under the guise of bathing. It wasn’t a stretch to say he loved long, hot showers, but he was mostly using the time to talk himself back into the right frame of mind for this expedition.
He couldn’t put his own selfish curiosity about Erik and his people ahead of Earth and all of humanity. But Erik had held his hands so gently in the car. He’d been so concerned about him… he wondered if he should take the time to ease some tension while he was in here, but something about doing that-while thinking about Erik, with him just in the next room-felt wrong. He quickly rinsed off and stepped out of the shower.
He dried off in and wrapped himself in a luxurious Italian cotton robe before stepping into his room.
After their long lunch and the flight from D.C, he was tired enough to contemplate a quick nap. But he was worried enough about leaving Erik unattended for even the length of his shower. He had been enraptured by the view over the park and had entirely ignored their host showing them around the suite and explaining the amenities.
Charles was beginning to suspect the Admiral treated him differently than he did other humans. He had yet to decipher exactly what that meant or what Erik's endgame in all this was. He supposed that was the true purpose of this trip. So he dressed in more comfortable clothes than the suits he always wore in Erik’s presence and put on a pair of custom jeans and a soft, sky blue cardigan that he’d been told brought out his eyes.
He saw nothing wrong with wanting to look his best. Charles was sure he’d be just as concerned with trying to impress his department head if they were attending a conference together. The fact that he hadn't been when that had incident had actually occurred was immaterial.
He stepped out of his bedroom to find Erik pacing the floor barefoot, watching the carpet as he walked. It was oddly adorable, and his feet were fascinating.
Charles took a moment to observe him without being noticed. His feet were long and slender and his toes-if you could call them that-resembled tiny ineffectual fingers with no nails. Charles wondered how rude if would be to ask about them. Of course Erik had given him leave to ask any questions…what if he proposed a foot rub after their tiring day?
He groaned internally at his own thought- apparently Sean wasn’t the only one with a one track mind.
He glanced up to see Erik watching him silently; he’d definitely noticed the direction of his gaze. Charles felt himself flush with embarrassment and said the first thing that came to mind. “Your feet are very interesting.”
Erik tilted his head and approached him as slowly as usual, “They are very sensitive. More like your hands, I believe.”
“May I?” he asked in a nervous rush.
Erik gave him that tiny smile again and followed Charles to the small seating area and placed one of his hands in Charles’. His hands passed as human at a cursory glance. They were long and slim with five fingers on each hand. The differences were mostly structural. Each finger had an extra knuckle and no fingernails. The strength of his hands had surprised Charles earlier; they looked deceptively delicate but felt as strong as hewn steel.
It was somewhat disconcerting to be examining an alien creature while said creature was examining him. Erik made no secret of the fact that he was watching Charles, who had his head bent over his hand. He watched brief flickers of expression cross his face, and lost himself in the rays of the setting sun reflected in the other mans hair and even lighting those uncannily bright eyes from the side. He wondered how long it would take to catalogue each freckle that dusted his pale face.
Feeling very bold, he raised his unoccupied hand and brushed his fingers through Charles’ hair, pushing it back off his forehead with a gentle tug. It was thick and soft, different but reminiscent of Albert’s fur, though not as coarse.
Charles dropped his hand where he’d begun perusing his perfectly smooth palm. He sat back in slight surprise, or possibly something else, his pupils were dilated once more and his breath was coming in shallow puffs.
Erik couldn’t be sure that was a good thing, so he sat back as though nothing had happened. “You wanted to see my feet?” he changed the subject smoothly.
“What?” Charles asked, flummoxed by the shift in topic.
In response, Erik lifted his feet onto the plush sofa; he kept his knees bent so the space between them wouldn’t seem so large. Charles blinked at him before looking down at his feet, a look of amazement overwhelming his features the blink of an eye.
Focus, Charles. He told himself firmly as he catalogued Erik’s rough, smooth skin. There were no visible lines on it, but it held the toughness of an animal hide. It was unusual to say the least, or perhaps not. Who knew how many Erik's there were out there?
He slid his hands along the smooth curve of Erik’s narrow feet and couldn’t hide a chuckle at the way his flexible ‘toes’ shifted and flinched at Charles’ lightest caress. Erik drew Charles into asking more questions about his physiology, wanting to keep the other man in close physical contact.
Charles seemed eager to keep space between them which, counter to his natural instincts, was apparently a good sign. At least if Azazel was to be believed.
~~
The time passed quickly, too quickly by Erik’s reckoning, as with their first meeting he was lulled by his young ambassador’s voice as he spoke softly to himself and sometimes to Erik. He asked probing questions- how fast can you run? How well can you climb? Do all of your kind have similar feet?
The answers to which were very (he’d have to ask Hank for the actual conversion), very well- though he personally preferred not to, and no.
If Charles had noticed him being cagey about the physical differences between himself and his men, he let it slide and simply asked after the proper names of various body parts.
Erik could translate the basics easily enough, eyes, ear, nose, etc. but Charles was a doctor and wondered about the proper names of individual bones and muscle structure. He hated to let Charles down, but he was a soldier and a diplomat, in that order.
The thought that Hank would have been better suited for this conversation rankled. He considered ordering the blue furred scientist to his side to answer any and all of Charles’ questions, but hated the thought of being the third wheel, of Charles turning that bright eyed curiosity to his lead science officer instead of him.
An idea struck as Charles slid two fingers delicately up the outer curve of what he called his ‘ankle.’ “Will you come to my ship after our tour? You can see the layout and ask the doctors any questions you have about my physiology.” And by then they should know each other well enough for all the explanations to make sense.
Charles’ eyebrows shot sky high, Erik braced for an angry outburst before remembering that it meant surprise and not anger in humans. He stifled a sigh.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I’d love to! That sounds amazing!” he laughed, “If we didn’t have such a great trip planned I’d ask to go right now!”
“So you are looking forwards to our tour?” Erik asked, hoping Charles wouldn’t recognize the hesitancy in his tone. He hoped the other man saw this as an opportunity for them to get to know one another better, and not as a chore.
“Yes, I’ve always wanted to travel but I’ve dedicated my life to study and then to my research. I haven’t been to a concert or seen a movie in years,” he shook his head tiredly. “Maybe I’m not the best person to be showing you around. Moira has been everywhere for the sake of her job, she speaks so many languages…”
Erik tuned out his praises of the woman. He was happy Moira was not here, but he didn’t want to insult Charles’ friend by saying so. Especially when he clearly admired her so much. He preferred not to dwell on that thought.
“I have never seen a movie,” he reminded the other man as he wound down, hoping it came across as lighthearted.
Charles grinned at him and reached for the remote, “We can fix that right now.” Charles flicked on the TV and was stunned to see the time. He was embarrassed to have spent nearly two hours slowly examining Erik’s feet, ankles, and calves. Equally smooth, equally alien, no jutting bones, but clear-strange-muscle structure.
Way to stay level headed, Charles. He mentally chastised himself. He was also more than a little dismayed to realize that Erik’s physical differences-at least the ones he’s seen so far- weren’t enough to be a turn off either physically or mentally.
He foresaw a future for himself on a trashy morning talk show pining over his alien lover. The object of pity, scorn, and sick fascination. He lost himself to his melodramatic musing after a long moment.
Erik had no hope of reading Charles’ rapid mood shift based on the odd look on his face. Why did human expressions have to be so complex? He wondered irritably, not for the first time.
He let Charles think while he straightened his clothes-he’d been surprised, and a bit shy about Charles so eagerly disrobing him. At least he hadn’t seemed repulsed by his exploration.
He gazed out over the view that had so entranced him when they’d first been shown to their room. The sight of the sun vanishing over the crest of the earth in a flare of color was breathtaking, especially as it highlighted the multicolored forest that was Central Park. Charles’ dulcet tones caught his attention once more. Good, he was back.
“Here, let’s see how you like a classic. People say it’s the best film ever made,” Charles queued up Citizen Kane and settled onto the sofa with a sigh. He loved black and white films and it had been a while since he’d spent an evening alone with a handsome man. He decided not to overthink that last point, or any of this really.
~~
Erik rejoined him on the couch and was immediately pulled into the story of the life of Charles Foster Kane.
He barely noticed when Charles rose from his seat about an hour into the film. he only glanced up when he rejoined him a few minutes later dressed in a soft t-shirt and what he’d called pajama pants. He looked rumpled and strangely exposed for a fully clothed man. Erik felt short of breath at the sight of him.
He startled a short while later when he heard soft voices and realized Charles was speaking to one of the servants. He stopped the film to follow the sound, only to see the servants entrance swing shut and Charles turn back to him and startle to find him standing so close.
“Erik! I have a surprise for you, but I had to ask for something special,” his eyes glittered with excitement. “Let’s go back to the movie before it gets here.” He ushered Erik back into the living room and restarted the film with a sly smile.
Erik felt foolish, his immediate concern was that he’d neglected Charles for far too long and he’d turned to another human for attention. It was an absurd thought with a bit more reflection. He suspected his desire for Charles’ attention was becoming something of an issue, he would try t keep an eye on it.
The movie sucked him in again and before he knew it, Charles was pausing the film and presenting him with two bowls of steaming fluff. He said as much and Charles laughed as he’d hoped he would.
“It’s popcorn, Erik. Usually we have it with butter-that’s this one,” he gestured to one of the bowls and nodded for Erik to try some. He followed Charles lead and grabbed a few kernels and popped them into his mouth. It was hot, salty, crunchy. He thought he liked it. He tried a bit more.
It was good, but a bit distracting. He wondered why humans would want to distract themselves from a film with eating sweet treats.
Charles grinned, “I’m glad you approve. There are several flavors of popcorn, another popular one is cheese.”
Erik perked up immediately and eyed the other bowl, “Yep, they made white cheddar popcorn just for you!” he grinned as Erik eagerly popped several kernels into his mouth.
It was amazing. “This is amazing,” he said around another mouthful once he realized that Charles was watching him eat with a soft look on his face. He sat down right next to Erik, earning him a surprised look.
Charles shrugged at that, “how else can we share?” he knocked shoulders playfully then restarted the film. This is simple comradery, not flirting, Charles soothed his inner monologue. Besides, Erik looked adorable shoveling popcorn into his mouth like an overeager child. Who could resist that?
This time it took a short while for Erik to get back into the plot. The feeling if Charles pressed along his side was more of a diversion than he cared to admit, even to himself.
At least slippery slide of their fingers in shared bowls of popcorn served as a sufficient explanation for why humans equated this ritual with watching films. It was well worth the distraction.