(written by the amazing euphorbic, transcribed by me)
Erik likes trains. Charles stares at him, half-humored, half awed, as his Power stands within the car. He is a solid unmoving piece of the rushing metal car, unswayed by the curves or changes in speed the train makes on its magnetic rails. Charles grips Erik’s shoulder rather than the swaying handles above or a rail that would take him further from Erik. His power is more grounded than either, plus there is a wide ring of space around him: nobody gets close to a Power no matter how inviting they are.
Enthralled with the metal surrounding them and the magnetism propelling them, Erik’s eyes are bright as he looks down at Charles’ hand and then up to his face. Through their Bond, Charles feels a wave of sun-warmed metal on a cold day: Erik’s version of a mental smile. His hand comes up and rests on Charles’ elbow, pulls him closer until they are touching chest-to-chest.
"No breaking anyone’s fingers today, Erik,’ Charles smiles against Erik’s chin. He takes a playful bite.
"I’m not a police officer," Erik replies in a rumble. "But I’ll break no fingers today while you’re at work."
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