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Erik is having trouble sleeping again.

He hates this. He hates it because it is a weakness of character that he swears he would not permit himself, but he also hates it because he knows there is a solution for this and it's one that he absolutely despises, given what happened the last time he allowed Charles inside his head to help him. Erik could laugh at the dismal nature of the situation. The man puts him completely off pace and makes Erik feel things that would get him beaten and bruised and bled to death in the camps, then acts as stubbornly naive as he does when Erik pushes him towards someone more suitable.

Emotions are only going to get in the way. Erik is going to kill Shaw and then he's going to make sure his childhood never repeats. The trouble is that he cannot sleep, thoughts of Cerebro and its metal and the wiring buzzing through his mind as he lies on the too-firm bed in the CIA establishment, sleep a foreign concept.

Perhaps if he leaves. He told Charles that he would stay, but he could leave for a few days to put some space between them and it wouldn't matter, would it?

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Charles won't rush him, because this is the kind of domesticity he likes.

The moments between where things are for a time, people's minds are always quieter when they slip into a routine.

He also appreciates the chance to watch Erik walk around without a shirt, his body is elegant and he pushes his hand in his pocket to keep from doing anything.

There's a hint of a smile on his lips as he says, "Your toothbrush is over there where you set it down earlier."

Edited 2012-07-11 02:00 (UTC)

Erik glances over his shoulder -- a mistake, as this places Erik in Charles direct line of sight and makes him think of utterly terrible things. He forces those thoughts back down, picking up the toothbrush as he runs his fingers through his hair, unwinding small curls as he changes into his clothes, tugging the sleeves down over the mark.

Erik's thoughts are perhaps not surprising but not helpful, especially as he notes how Erik's hair changes and loosens. He wonders what else his hair would do, its always so controlled like him.

As he cannot act on these thoughts, Charles ever so slightly fidgets and feels as more of a fool.

He pulls his hand out of his pocket and runs it through his hair as a way to not look.

Its a move that reminds him of being a teenager and trying to figure out how to do anything with someone he liked.

Erik changes into the thin trousers quickly, ready to sleep, but still clothed enough that he could run at a moment's notice in the night. It's old habits, but they have done their task of protecting him quite well. "Well, I'm ready if you are," he murmurs.

"Yes, I am,"

He walks the few feet to be beside the bed and then sits on the side,

"Lay down and relax."

This is what he does, Erik will sleep and so will he just not in the same place.

Erik does as he's told, but relaxing for him is a crude impersonation of what a normal person might do. He lies stick-straight and folds his arms over his chest, lying there and staring at the ceiling. It will hopefully be enough to guide him to sleep.

"Someday I'll figure out how to get you fully relaxed,"

Charles mutters as he rests his hand on Erik's forehead and thinks and says, "Sleep."

Tonight, he can't stay to keep away all the bad dreams but he can use a technique that works in lucid dreaming.

Inside Erik's sleeping mind, he plants restful places and ideas of safety as he says. No nightmares tonight, Erik. Quiet, safety or if not quiet, pleasure, someday perhaps I can make those dreams be true. For now, dream happily.

Erik is peaceful until the point at which Charles practically promises to make his fantastical dreams come true. His eyes become pinched and he sends a lobby of a weakened, what dreams do you aim to bring to life? in a sleepy manner.

He sighs and gently kisses Erik's forehead as he thinks,

Never mind, just dream well.

Though 'never mind' has not been enough to quiet Erik's curiosity before, he feels as if there is a sharper command behind those words, making him relax, though the kiss to his forehead serves as a counter-measure, keeping him in a null balance in which he accuses Charles -- silently, in his thoughts -- of being a great and awful tease.

If I was going to tease you, I have more effective ways of doing it. Just go to sleep.

All he wanted to do was a bit more touch, but that clearly wasn't a good idea. Now his head hurts more, but Erik should sleep.

That is a command that Erik cannot ignore. Sleep comes quickly, then, brought on with the aid of Charles' power, and he succumbs -- with embarrassing ease. This time, he does not drop to hazy dreams, but rather to a stillness and to an overabundance of peace.

Once he is actually sleeping, Charles sighs and turns off the light as he leaves.

He has a harder time going to sleep but by emptying his mind, he is able to rest.

His dreams are fitful and sensual, so in the morning, he doesn't feel terribly rested.