bakerstreet | Everyone is adorable. Yes, even you.

Everyone is adorable. Yes, even you.

ADORASMUT

Smut is great. And, to go hand in hand, kink is good. Angst is good, romance is good, sexy sexy sexy is grand, the whole nine yards. Some days, though, you just want to play adorable smut - where "cute" wins out over smoldering sexiness - and nothing else will scratch the itch. Whether it be a first time, canoodling between lovers, an awkward rendezvous, friends to more, someone learning the ropes, an attempt at showing true feelings, amusing "messing around," or anything your mind can come up with, the only rule is that things must be absolutely cute...at face value or in a twisted way.

Character, preferences, etc. You can also mention if you want to actually write the smut or if you'd rather FTB.
Reply and thread, my lovelies!

Growing Feelings: You're not in love yet, but the beginnings are there and this intimacy only makes it stronger.

Moment of Weakness: The walls are down, for just a fleeting time, and you're taking solace in each other.

Platonic: You love each other platonically - as friends, teammates, or other allies - yet you show it in an unconventional way.

Actual Love: There's genuine, 100% love and relative devotion here manifested in flesh on flesh.

Manipulation: You simply want them to think that you love them, and what better way than to act all gentle and kind in bed?

To Win Them Over: Love is what they want, so it's what they'll get if it gets you on their good side.

Thirsty for Your Touch: You've wanted them so badly, you can't help but be reverent.

Foreplay: Foreplay is often skimmed over, but it can be better than the main course. Savor it...kiss those parts you usually simply thrust into.

Desperate: The sex is a little rougher than this meme calls for, though it comes from a place of love. You're so desperate for them, so in love, that you cannot control yourself.

Take It Slow: One party isn't so sure about this, so you're being gentle and keeping things easy.

Injured/Ill: You can't be rough today. Doctor's orders!

Rescue Sex: You saved them, now let them save you.

Childhood Love Matured: You cared for each other as children; now you'll show your affection in ways children cannot.

Ego Boost You want them to know they're the best, even if they don't feel like it. You have eyes only for them.

Focus All on You: It's time for a treat, and you want to be all give and no take.

Parting: You're leaving - for a long time or a short while - and you two want to spend a last time together.

Return: Finally, you and your lover are back together. Show each other how you missed this.

Making Up: Fighting is usually no fun, but making up afterwards? That is.

Teaching: Your lessons come with love; just because you're more experienced doesn't mean you look down on them.

Gratitude: They really appreciate what you've done for them. Really, really

Not Like Them: One of you has had bad experiences in the past, and the other wants to show them that they're not at all like the rest.

Old Couple: You've been together for a long time and you know what you like.

First Time: In contrast, this is your first time together (or first time, full stop period the end), so you're trying to figure things out.

After Confession: The confession of feelings can give a whole new rush to being together.

You Mean So Much to Me: Words can't describe how you feel about them. Maybe actions can?

Rose Petals and Al Green: Because some people do like that kind of stuff, you know.

CHOOSE YOUR OWN

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Around 16. Can be aged up for comfort, let me know.]

Edited 2016-08-21 00:55 (UTC)

( m/m preferred. )

[ Erik has never been good at apologising, or making his way back to people; he's been alone for so long that doing normal, human things often comes as an afterthought. He's not like Charles, who understands people, can wrap his mind around emotions, knows when to push for more and when to back off; Erik simply pushes, and pushes, and pushes until the other person snaps, and it's not always the best or healthiest option for anyone involved. More often than not it lends itself to him hurting himself more than anyone else, as though he feels like he ought to be punished for unspoken crimes, and maybe that really is the case.

Either way, he knows he's snapped, and his anger, the violence of it, has been enough to cause him and Charles to fight. It's not the first time, he thinks, and it may well not be the last, but there's a haze of guilt and regret that hangs around him that's impossible for anyone to ignore. What Erik wants is to be able to go back to the other man, to offer his hands and know that he is safe, that his feelings, as twisted as they are, are truly understood and wanted. It's another one of the problems that comes from having been alone for so long; Erik struggles to admit things to himself, let alone others.

Charles helps, of course, by looking and understanding without Erik needing to say a word, but sometimes words are necessary, no matter how wise or telepathic your partners might be.

It doesn't take him long to gather his thoughts after his walk and then, with the afternoon bleeding into the night, he makes his way up to the office where he and Charles spend most of their time together, the evenings blanketed with chess and a few glasses of something to soothe their nerves, simple hours spend in one another's company... Hours where Erik had watched, and wondered, and thought, but never dared to reach out and touch. No matter how careful he was he knew that there was a line that, if crossed, would be impossible to go back from, and he wasn't sure if what he felt was mirrored in the other man. He had to be careful, because he had seen the worst of humanity - he had seen not just what they did to his kind, but to others, too. He refused to see that same disgust in Charles' eyes.

Careful, he pushes open the door, slipping through and letting it close with a quiet click behind him. He'd ran last time he and Charles had spoken, but now - now he would face it all, because he had no other choice. It was this or nothing, and Erik had never been very good at letting go. ]

Charles.

[ erik often pushes until the other person snaps, but charles is a man made for bending, malleable in his dealings with people. he knows what erik carries upon his shoulders, what he allows weigh on his mind. he knows these things and makes alarming allowances for them, but not without a degree of conflict. if he didn't care for erik as deeply as he does, he wouldn't pursue arguments with him. he would let him be, give him the opportunity to disconnect like he knows so many other people have.

it still hurts, to be faced with the single option of patience, of watching erik tear himself down and slowly piece himself back together again. charles wants to help, of course, but a good deal of erik's fight is internalized. what he can offer him is warm company, the desire of his presence, even affection if he seeks it out, but he can't solve it for him.

( and charles is not without his own brand of conflict, a much different flavor than erik's. )

they fight and charles watches erik leave, the heaviness of his lingering anger like a fog. but charles waits, too, hides himself away from prying eyes in the office so he can not only gather his thoughts, but be there if erik returns later in the evening. patience is something charles has had to learn throughout the years, but stubbornness comes naturally. it's with the aid of both that adoration for erik has burrowed deep into his bones.

and it feels like a reward when erik opens the door, and charles can't help the breath it pulls from him. the idea that erik might leave and not return one of these days is a daunting one and charles isn't ready to consider the possibility of it. ]

Erik. [ his relief is barefaced, both in tone and his smile, quiet and soft. from the couch he has the perfect view of him, and his frustration has long since dissipated. ] Thank you. For coming back, I mean.

[ they will fight and charles imagines there might even be tears someday, but he will always thank erik for making the choice to return, if for nothing more than it is a choice. ]

[ He has never, in the time that he has spent with Charles, felt worthy of the patience and the kindness he has been given, time and time again. He feels as though it should be taken from him, ripped from his bare fingers and left to one side, that he ought to be cast out for his sins - and there are a great number of them, all of which he could list without pause if he tried. He could make a good argument as to why Charles should just pack him up and leave him as he is, to stop trying to help, but he doesn't want that - they both know what Erik really wants, even if Charles might never say it aloud.

For all that Erik allows Charles into his mind without pause of hesitation, proud of the fact that he has a friend so powerful and trustworthy, they rarely speak of what it is that the telepath finds there. Whatever Charles sees is a secret unspoken between them, but sometimes Erik wishes that he was able to bring it up, to mention it, to make it easier for them both -- because that's what he wants. He wants, desperately, for them to be able to give into it all and pass the message along, to be able to admit to Charles how he truly feels without the necessity of telepathy hanging like an unspoken discord at their feet.

As soon as he hears Charles speak he breathes out, the tension slipping away from his shoulders. He might still hold himself tall, hands crossed over his chest, defensive as ever, but his jaw no longer clenches, neither do his hands, and he manages to walk forward, to find the familiar armchair and press himself down into it, his eyes flicking back up to Charles - and he knows he's acting more like a wild animal than anything else, approaching someone trustworthy with caution, but he can't help himself. He just nods, watching, afraid and put together all at once.

When he speaks, his voice is low, a little hoarse, mostly because he had taken the time away from Charles to vent his frustrations in a way that might not be considered healthy, and there might well be a host of tangled metal that used to be a greenhouse somewhere in the depths of Charles' large garden. He'll repair it, later, when he's less exhausted and emotionally spent. ]

Where else would I go? [ And he means it both ways; he has no where else to go and he has no where else he wants to be. This is where he belongs, this is where he's slipped into a life as if he was meant to be there, and he prickles with the knowledge, as if waiting for it all to go wrong and for him to lose this perfect home all of a sudden. It wouldn't be too much of a surprise if he were to ruin it somehow - that's the trend in his life.

Charles' smile, though, makes something in his chest warm and his cheeks flush, and he hesitates for a moment before he pushes himself to his feet, taking the few short steps to the couch, sitting down beside Charles and waiting for a moment. The urge to touch is there, a familiar yearning, and he doesn't know how to deal with it without a clear invitation - there's still so much hanging between them that he feels entirely breathless, weak in the face of one single man. Imagine, he tells himself, if the world knew his weakness was one small, telepathic Brit; it would be his complete undoing.

Instead, he leans close, doing his best to smile, ignoring how wavering his expression is. ]

You didn't have to wait for me.

[ perhaps a day will come when charles won't greet erik with understanding and patience, but for the life of him, he can't fathom it now. for all that he's dipped into erik's mind, learned even the most hidden nuances of him, he still wonders if he shouldn't push more past erik's hesitance, try to overcome it. watching erik edge towards him now and choose the armchair over the space next to him, he knows now is not the time for it.

or maybe that's his own sort of hesitance. he's afraid he might push too hard with erik one day. the loss of what seems to be a perfect home is a fear they share.

erik's tone softens him further, though the question roots itself deep. erik is home, in both location and in charles' eyes. the mansion might house most of his familial memories, but erik is home personified in a much different way than even raven is. whatever he's done to the greenhouse can be repaired, the state of it hardly on charles' radar at the moment.

before he can respond, though, erik is moving again, occupying the space next to him and leaning in close. erik's attempt at a smile does terrible things to charles' heart, but his words dismantle him, bit by bit. wetting his lips, he tips his head, allows his smile to widen, impossibly fond. ]

I will always wait for you. [ reaching out, he curves a hand over one of erik's, fingertips brushing his palm and he gives it a gentle squeeze. catching and holding his gaze, charles continues: ] We may not always see eye to eye, but I will always wait for you.

[ it deserves repeating, he thinks. erik is not telepathic. he can't expect him to know what hasn't been said. ]

[ There might well come a day where Erik feels somehow capable of expressing himself properly, rather than storming around the grounds destroying Xavier property; there might come a day where he can sit and speak aloud the thousand and one things that buzz through his mind all at the same time. It's not that he doesn't trust Charles - he trusts Charles more than he's ever trusted anyone in his entire life - but he doesn't quite trust himself, and he never has. He's never been capable of baring himself entirely, fearing what might happen if he did.

Everything feels safer with Charles, of course. He doesn't feel as though he can break the tangible bond between them, and even now he knows that the darkest of his actions would find some grounding, some explanation. Charles sees the good in him when Erik is blind to everything but hate, and he's never been more thankful.

His eyes are drawn straight to Charles' lips when he licks them, and there's a moment where all he can do is stare at them, completely taken in and flushed red because of it. That same, familiar urge to touch prickles through him, and he feels wrong, somehow, staring at Charles as if he is nothing but some lust-filled creature desperate for some companionship; it's not true, of course. It's not just anyone, it's Charles and Charles alone, and Erik is almost thirsty for his touch, his words.

As soon as their hands touch Erik tenses, uncertainty thrumming through him, until Charles' words settle in his mind properly. The warmth that floods him is indescribable and he watches the other man, dragging his eyes over his features before he nods his head, once, a sharp, disjointed movement, unable to match the gaze that makes his entire body prickle. When he bows his head it's only to look down at their joined hands, wanting more but unable to say it. ]

And I think I will always come back, my friend. For as long as you wait, I will return. [ It's said softly, Erik nearly stumbling over the words, his sense of home and belonging disturbed by the life he's lead.

When he lifts his eyes again it's only to stare at Charles, to squeeze his hand in return and to lean forward, resting his forehead against his. He wants, but he's not sure how else to ask for it, afraid to take the first step in case he is rejected and it means the end of everything they've built. ]

[ it would take a blind man to miss the way erik's gaze dips to his lips and lingers. charles is too hyperaware of erik as a whole to miss anything about the action, warmth dusting his cheeks in a way that makes him feel like a schoolboy again. charles has cared for people before, but never in such an all-encompassing way. it's both new and terrifying, if only in the face of change and chance. it's a risk to move forward with how he feels and how he knows erik feels, too.

it gives him an unfair advantage, that knowledge of something erik has yet to even give voice to. it makes charles cautious, careful. he's never wanted anything as much as he does this.

charles remains steady when erik tenses under his touch, lets him absorb what he's saying before he decides whether or not the touch is too much. and he will always offer erik something akin to an anchor, a steadying force should he require it. it's never something he would push on him. he lets out a breath, shaky at best, when erik nods, when he drops his focus to their hands. it feels like a prize, just like his return. even if erik's companionship is more of a reward than charles could ever ask for.

if erik's words hit home before, they're his ruin, now. with how close they are charles is almost certain his heartbeat is a thunderous thing, battering against his rib cage like it might beat its way out. it's instinctual, the way he lifts his other hand when erik leans in to rest his forehead against his, letting it settle in the dip where his neck meets his shoulder. it fits like he was meant to, he thinks, dismissing it as a silly thought almost immediately. ]

Erik, you should know that I care a great deal for you. [ said with a brush of his thumb over soft fabric, his other hand remaining right where it is. charles is acclimated to knowing how everyone around him feels and hardly ever speaking of his own feelings. this, again, is quite new to him. it's a risk he's willing to take, at the very least. sliding his hand further up his neck, he grazes the tip of his thumb along his jaw, almost too gentle. ] Beyond that of what a friend would.

[ There's a dangerous uncertainty in how Erik handles himself now, and he feels, suddenly, as if he's far too close to Charles. It's like stepping near a flame; his entire body feels alight and burning, and he wants to reach out and touch but he knows he'll be scarred if he does - if not the other way around. Whatever he feels for Charles he's sure, with the certainty borne of his own stubbornness, that Charles deserves something better, someone better.

He doesn't consider Charles a prize to be won, or something he could ever possibly earn. Charles is something beyond hope, completely out of reach, completely free of Erik's hands, and yet he longs - he wants the anchor, the tenderness, the touch, he wants to feel as though he is complete and belongs, somehow, even if he continues to deny it himself. Charles gives him so much that he doesn't feel capable of admitting it, of saying it aloud; all he knows is that he has to find a way to give it back in turn.

Charles' hand rises higher and touches against the skin of his neck, and Erik breathes out a sharp, unsteady noise; he's not used to being touched at all but this is the most he's ever welcomed someone else's hand on him. He can't remember the last time he wanted someone to be close to him, to give into that urge to be near, to touch, to feel, and he's not entirely sure how he ought to handle it - not at first, at least. He's not quite as tactile as Charles is, and he'd accepted that a long time ago (Charles was always touching people, arms, shoulder, back, Raven's hand in his, kissing her cheeks, always reaching out and never expecting anything in return) but he is trying.

He has to try.

Leaning back close, Erik nods his head, mostly in understanding because it is still difficult to speak. When he finds his words they come out a little hoarse, a little stunted, because he's not quite sure what he ought to say - how he should respond to Charles, being so bare and open with him. Finally, he's capable, his free hand lifting to mirror Charles, resting on the side of his neck gently, drawing him close before he breathes out. ]

You've been inside my head. [ It's said as a statement rather than a query; it's simple fact. Charles slips into his mind because Erik allows it and has never thought to deny him entry. It makes so many things easier for him - and it makes this easier, too, knowing that Charles is admitting something that had hung on Erik's mind for such a long time. ] You know that I care for you. I've not had many friends, you said it yourself, but I know... This isn't friendship. What I want from you is nothing so simple. [ And, oh, he does want it. He wants it rather a lot. ]

If you would have me, Charles...

[ there is safety to be found in erik, a mutual sort that charles can't help but revel in. he's felt it for a good deal of his life with raven, though in a way that didn't send his heart racing at alarming speeds. sitting here on this couch with erik in the office of his childhood home feels impossibly perfect. he isn't sure what he's done in his life to deserve what erik's offered him, even cautiously, but he can't take it for granted, not a bit of it.

erik's effort doesn't go unnoticed in the slightest and charles is grateful for that, too. he understands better than most the toll it takes on the other man, how trust and affection are foreign entities. he's tried to be less handsy with him because of it, to keep it more presence based to let him know that he's there and isn't going anywhere, despite how natural it is for him to reach out and touch.

there's isn't a bone in his body willing to let erik feel as alone as he did when they met, the pain and deep-set ache he could feel with the barest of brushes of his mind.

the noise erik lets out shakes charles at the foundation. he allows himself to be drawn closer, to be maneuvered both where erik wants him and where he wants to be. he can't imagine ever getting close enough, but the warmth of erik's hand is as good a starting point as any. ]

I would. [ their proximity makes eye contact a difficult thing, but charles tries for it anyway, a quiet smile curving his lips. when he speaks again, it's another thing he thinks has passed unsaid between them, but giving it voice is important. ] And I would offer you anything in return. As far as I'm concerned, Erik, you've had me all along.

[ The strange thing is that Erik would never consider himself 'safe'; he's too dangerous, too wild, too used to rushing off into trouble on his own, and the history behind him lays waste to any ideals of being better than anyone else. He's an independent monster as far as he's concerned, and his mind has burned that word onto him as surely as the tattoo is burned onto his skin; he can't escape the way he views himself and he can't escape the anger and the darkness that prickles because of it.

Being around Charles, however, makes him feel a little softer, a little less violent and dangerous. He feels as though he can settle, he can talk, as if he can actually become someone that his mother might once have been proud to know. Charles unlocks a kindness in him he had never thought was possible, and brings out the best in him with gentle touches and kind, understanding words. To Erik it feels almost impossible, but it's there, real and sure, and it makes his heart feel too thick and heavy in his chest.

He doesn't want to give this up; he doesn't want to give Charles up, and it's terrifying and freeing at the same time.

Even now it feels as though Charles is too far away from him, and it means that Erik knows what he wants; he knows the thing that he needs, but he's still a touch too afraid to move forward and take it, as if it, too, would be taken from him as soon as he grasps it. He hesitates for a moment longer, until Charles' words settle around him, eyes closing and throat tight as he swallows. ] And yet neither of us said anything until now. All that time we've wasted, Charles.

[ But then it's impossible not to lean close and, careful, buzzing with nerves and excitement and more, Erik shifts and tilts his head, pressing his lips against Charles', hand moving to the small of his back to gently urge him closer. ]

[ erik thinks himself a monster and charles is not only well versed in the thought process that surrounds it, but also immensely confident in his faith in him. erik is better than the violence, than the hate, that he's nurtured for years upon years. as far as charles is concerned, even when they disagree and they fight, erik is the strongest person he's ever had the fortune of meeting. he brings balace to the table, in both ideals and otherwise.

charles wouldn't have a world without him. it's a daunting, staggeringly selfish thought.

but then erik says they've wasted time and charles wants nothing more than to tell him they've many years ahead of them, that none of the time they've spent together with their quiet sort of intimacy is a waste. it's difficult to rein in his thoughts, though, when erik chooses to close the minute distance between their lips and he's certain his heart has stopped mid-beat.

it shouldn't be a surprise that charles needs little to no goading, tipping into erik like he could quite possibly melt into him, pulse jackrabbit fast. he wants to savor it, to memorize the feeling of erik's lips against his and the intensity of it might frighten him if erik were anyone else. his hand stays curved against erik's neck, fingertips brushing over the nape of it. ]

[ Even if he could see himself the way that Charles sees him, Erik knows he would never consider himself any kind of good or worthy - always the opposite, always the other half of the optimistic coin that Charles seems to shape himself into. Where Charles sees peace and hope Erik sees anger and hurt, and it's a hard mould to break out of. It's been the shape he's honed himself into for years, the person he's forced himself to become for a long time, and undoing that feels almost impossible.

If there's anyone that's going to be able to accomplish it, of course, it's Charles. Charles has already undone so much in his mind.

The fact that the other man doesn't lean back or pull away is more than enough for Erik, and his body warms from head to toe as he shivers, closing his eyes and basking in the feel, the comfort, prickling with how much he's enjoying this already. It's a simple kiss but it's not simple at all; it's paved with a thousand little thoughts, hours of wanting but not being certain of welcome, consideration and worry all culminating in this one moment that makes even Erik forget his rage and his hurt as the moment stretches out between them.

Careful, he tilts his head, drawing Charles closer, hand snaking around to hook at his waist and hips gently. He shifts, making a little more space on the couch, and he offers himself for Charles to take - to kiss, to touch, to hold, whatever he wants. Erik has never desired anything the way he wants Charles right now, and the urge to simply bow and give into the whims of the man beside him is almost terrifying. He does reign it in, of course, instead opening his mind gently; letting Charles see his joy, his pleasure, the relief. ]