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It made a sick and sad sort of sense that the first person he thought of after coming out of surgery, medically - and potentially physically - paralyzed from the waist down, was not the relatively handsome doctor explaining his condition, not his sister who was clinging to his hand and crying, and not even his own patients who Emma had presumably scheduled with other therapists after his accident. No, the very first person he thought of was Erik, his fuck buddy. He didn't suppose he would be making their weekly liaison.
He laughed. That was apparently not what the doctor, Raven, or the few nurses who were attending his central line, his catheter, or his morphine with great interest had expected. It took him a few seconds to get under control.
"I'm sorry."
"It's perfectly understandable, Doctor Xavier, you're in shock."
"No, no..." He trailed off. "Well, yes, I am in shock, but it was more I thought of something wildly inappropriate. Please continue." Charles threw his attention back towards the doctor, trying to process it even as he knew there was no way he would be able to short-circuit his own grieving. He told his patients as much on a regular basis, there was no short cut in making your way through the process.
Even if he regained full functionality - unlikely, even with the possibility of spinal swelling reducing enough to consider a second surgery - he would have days, maybe even weeks of uncertainty, and then a lifetime of adapting. Being a psychologist was perhaps hindering him in this, he realized, as he stared up at the ceiling, ignoring his laptop and phone as they perched on the end table of his hospital bed. He knew all of the process, and yet he was inside for the first time since his father had died, trapped in a bubble of emotional responses that he couldn't analyze away.
The phone buzzed. He picked it up and looked at the text message. Some guy named Eric on the phone, says he's a friend.
Was it Wednesday already? He typed back with twitchy fingers. Yess. With a k.
Do you want me to tell Erik-with-a-K what's up?
He stared at the screen for several long seconds. N staring up at him from the send bar, finger lazily stroking the enter button.
Charles?
He deleted his last response and sent a single Y. At least he wouldn't have to call to explain and wouldn't have to see Erik look at him. Even as he tried to see it - objectively - that he was having some sort of aggressive response to the news he couldn't reel himself back in and correct it. It didn't matter. He and Erik were supposed to be uncomplicated. Charles had been considering breaking it off anyway. Feelings.
It hadn't been strong feelings... ok, yes, it had started to be strong feelings. Erik was an attractive guy, sexy, and great fun to talk to before, during, and after. They always enjoyed playful kissing and biting followed by meandering conversations between their fucking. Erik liked to complain about his students - idiots, all of them - Charles couldn't talk about his patients but Erik knew if Charles had had a particularly stressful week (usually because Charles called for a second, or sometimes a third meeting, which Erik was almost always able to accommodate).
And, of course, just to suit his mood, the social worker-slash-counselor showed up, to inform him about the joys of paraplegic sex.
He thought about shooting an FML off to Raven, but she'd no doubt take it the wrong way and come back and bring flowers and cry about how his life wasn't over, please Charles stay strong, and he just wasn't up for that, so he looked at the lovely brochure that was very heterosexually oriented and just irritated him more.
"Any advice for taking it up the ass?" He finally bit out, just to watch the woman flush, stammer, look down, and say that she'd come back with more brochures.
That led to him dozing off, high on morphine, table scattered with pamphlets that said 'paraplegia and you', 'accessability options around the home', and 'sex after spinal cord injury'.
"Charles?"
Charles twitched. Apparently he'd reached the hallucination portion of the drugged stupor. He recognized Erik's voice anywhere, even if it was usually growling out his name as they fucked. "Yeah?" His voice sounded dazed and sleepy, even to his own ears - which were similarly dazed.
Apparently his hallucinations were both auditory and visual, because Erik walked in a few moments later, dressed in one of his neat suits he wore for big grant presentation days instead of the lazy turtlenecks he wore on teaching days. It brought out the blue in his eyes, hiding the bits of green. He looked beautiful. He always did, damn him.
"Hey..." Erik settled the privacy screen back in front of the door and looked around, awkward, before seeing the chair - Raven had said it was comfortable - perched on the other side of his bed. "Can I...?"
Charles waved his hand in a sort of 'whatever' gesture. It put Erik on his 'super gross' side, the side with the purpling bruise on his jaw, the side where his main line went straight into his neck, the side that showed off his slightly-too-brown pee (kidney shock, should turn around in a few days) draining into cath so they could watch his input and output.
"Big day today?" Charles asked.
Erik frowned. Charles indicated his outfit, waving his hand up and down his person. "Oh... yeah, just a thing."
Erik was lying. Charles had no idea why, but he was too tired to bother to pursue it. Erik wasn't his patient, it wasn't his job to be attentive to every little detail and pick away at his problems. That's why he liked Erik, his boyfriends always complained he psychoanalyzed them. Apparently that wasn't sexy. "How did it go?"
Charles was dedicated to talking through the awkward. They could just have a quick little conversation, Erik could go on his way and they could put an end to this. Charles reflected - dully, mind a bit hazy with narcotics - that he must have been a fantastic lay for Erik to bother to follow up with a hospital visit.
"Fine." Erik's lip twitched, his jaw was clenched. Lying again. Eventually Erik took a deep breath, shook his head as though to clear it. "I dressed up to visit you."
Charles snorted; Erik's eyes grew dark. "I'm sorry, sorry..." He should be kind to his delusions, they obviously had feelings. "It's nice. You always look quite handsome like that."
That made the man relax a bit. "Um... how are you feeling?"
"No pain," he said. "Sleepy, as to the rest..." There wasn't anything he could really say.
"Do...?" Erik stopped, closed his mouth.
Do what? Did he know if he'd walk again? Did he know if he could have sex again? Did he need two weeks notice to break up with him? Did he think he needed to not break up with him until he was out of the hospital.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Erik finally asked.
Charles stared at him. "What's to talk about?" He was trying to figure out what Erik even expected from him. They were over, it was done, Charles didn't even want to see him right now.
"I don't know." Erik poked a finger into his knee. "You're the psychologist, what are you supposed to talk about?"
"How about you just repeat the last word I say and turn it into a question? It keeps the other person speaking."
Erik frowned for a moment and crinkled his nose. "Speaking?"
Charles laughed, not much, just a light little chuckle. "Oh, you know, talking through feelings, how fucked up I feel."
"How's Raven taking it?" The change from his instructions was jarring, but he tried to take it in stride.
"Badly," Charles could answer that easily, could see how much this had affected her. "She's used to seeing me as invincible. That impression took quite a pounding."
Erik quirked his lip at Charles. "Pounding?"
Charles couldn't help it, he smiled a bit at that as well. "Not any time soon, I'm afraid." Maybe not ever. Oh, he had the little pamphlets that said he'd be able to have a fulfilling sex life, but Erik wasn't going to sit around waiting for Charles to figure out how to give sexy wheelchair rides. He was brilliant and amusing and sexy and funny, and he liked uncomplicated interactions.
Erik nodded and tilted his head slightly, maybe trying to work something out but Charles couldn't quite figure out what he was trying to say or do. "Does that bother you?"
He doubted Erik meant it cruelly, but the words stung. "Of course it bothers me! I like sex!" He'd said that a bit loud, likely enough for his neighbors to hear, and he managed to stifle himself a bit after that. "I liked sex with you, to be perfectly blunt, and now you're here, looking delectable and really damn fuckable and admittedly I have a hose shoved up my dick but I should feel... something, but I don't." He prodded his leg, just to punctuate his point. "Nothing."
And then he started to cry, gooey and snotty and teary, and by the end, Erik's arms were tangled around him in a careful hug that avoided the worst of the tubes and Charles face was no doubt splotchy and red, his eyes probably stained red, blue eyes set off by it.
"Oh..." The lunch guy rolled in with his (delicious) full liquid lunch. "I'll just..."
Charles pulled away and Erik stepped away as well. Charles tugged the computer, his phone, and the half-dozen 'your world isn't ending' pamphlets over the bed, making room for the tray of food. A few moments later Charles tugged the chafing cover off the center piece... mmm pureed carrot soup. Erik's stomach growled.
"You must be hungry if this seems appetizing."
"I didn't eat breakfast," Erik admitted.
"You should go."
"I could get something from the cafeteria..."
Charles felt his mouth tighten. "You should go," he insisted.
"Can I come back?"
"Why on Earth would you want to?"
Erik glowered. "Can I?"
"If you want."
He didn't really expect Erik to come back ever. He really didn't expect to see Erik come back with a sandwich and a prepackaged salad from the hospital cafeteria and sit down - rather pointedly - in the chair. Charles had barely gotten half-way through his pudding and soup.
"Don't you have class?"
"I made Janos cover it."
"To... cover the talk you had to go to?" Charles asked.
Erik looked down at his hands. "Look, I know we weren't..." He twisted his hands together, Charles watched him as he did. Erik had lovely fingers - he always wondered what he looked like scratching down questions and answers on the board for class, probably lovely. "I know we weren't a thing, and I know the timing is terrible... but I did want to ask you on a date."
"I don't even rate a pity fuck?" It was out before he could stop himself.
"It's not... damn it, Charles." He watched Erik grab his own hair between his fingers, tugging it, not violently but hard enough to hurt. "I'd been thinking about it... before. When I called, I was calling to ask you for dinner. A date."
Charles stared at Erik, not quite believing what he was hearing.
"And at first I didn't even know if I should visit, I mean... what are visiting hours for fuck buddies who develop inconvenient feelings? Ten to Midnight?" Erik crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I could have just not come, that would be easy... done. And I didn't for a few days but... I like you! Or is no one allowed to like you right now? Does that make you feel better to be all miserable and unloveable?"
Charles felt his eyes grow wide for a moment. "Well... um... I suppose tough love works now and again."
He reached out and picked up the sex after spinal cord injury papers and shoved them in Erik's general direction, and he took them, looked down at them, and nodded. "Are there pictures?"
"Nothing racy," Charles answered.
"You don't have to date me just because I asked," Erik said a moment later. "You said you wanted uncomplicated."
Charles considered it. Erik was offering him an easy out, perhaps expecting one for himself. "We can have a go at it." There was a long pause in which Erik didn't say anything, but he did scoot the chair a bit closer, reached out, and touched his hand, his fingers anyway, as Charles ate his soup left handed. "I was... thinking of ending it between us, actually."
Erik drew away as though burned, then glared at his sandwich. "I don't need a pity boyfriend either."
"I just meant... you weren't the only one feeling over-invested."
"And you solution was going to be to dump me?" Erik's voice started almost as a shout, but he calmed by the end of his outburst and took a deep breath. "I thought you were a psychologist."
Charles snorted into his pudding.
Erik, however, deposited his food on the chair where he was sitting, felt carefully along Charles' side of the bed before he sat, more like kneeling. "Can I kiss you?"
Charles looked away before he let his eyes dart back to Erik's bright and earnest and very green. "I haven't brushed in hours." Erik looked unimpressed. "I'm... eating soup?"
"Do you want me to kiss you, Charles?"
"Yes."
Erik was on him in a moment, not the fiery passion that usually marked their times in beds - and against walls - together, but soft and gentle. Charles had a moment to be offended, but it was no less passionate. Erik's lips were warm, the breath from his nose was hot on Charles' cheek, tears fell lightly, and he let himself snake his hand up to Erik's head, pretending this could last forever.
"OH MY GOD!" Or Raven could interrupt. "Charles!"
Erik jerked away, looking guilty and flushed, but Charles caught the way his tongue darted over his lips and he smiled. "Hi. I'm... uh... Erik."
"With a 'k'," Raven answered. "Raven, we... spoke on the phone." She turned on Charles a moment later. "Friend? Yeah, right. Why didn't you tell me you got a new boyfriend."
Charles didn't quite know how to answer. "It's complicated."
"You're not even 'it's complicated' on Facebook!"
"It's not complicated," Erik interrupted them. "I like him, he likes me, it's just... new."
"How new?" Charles caught the look on Raven's face - the one he would have preferred not to see, the one that said 'how long is new-guy going to last this?' - but she was excited enough that the look couldn't quite sour him.
Charles was surprised, although maybe he shouldn't have been, exactly how much Erik and he actually knew about each other, jobs, hobbies, a bit about families. He and Erik made a reasonably passable couple. A half hour into their interrogation, Raven left to get a coke and Erik let out a deep, shuddering sigh of relief.
"You can't tell me you're this calm and collected about this," Charles said.
"I'm--" Erik paused. "I'm not." Erik took up a position on the other side of the bed, likely to avoid the cath, IV, and main line issues, and then set his hand very gently on Charles' chest. "We were so uncomplicated, and I thought... maybe we could be just a bit more complicated, and then... this."
"It seems to be our destiny to be complicated... or uncomplicated."
He waited, watched the play of emotions over Erik's face, sad, guilty, a few others that Charles couldn't place. "Will you give us a chance?"
"Of course." If the man he'd started to fall for wanted to try to make it permanent, Charles would be an idiot to let him go. "This is going to... be a long process."
Erik nodded.
"I'm going to yell at you."
Another nod.
"Probably quite frequently for some time."
And he continued to nod.
"Say something!"
"Yes, dear." Erik leaned in and kissed his nose and then softly on the lips again. Charles decided he was going to have to put up with some of this sass. Erik had always been a bit wry. "Tomorrow's my long day at work, but I can come for dinner. I can sneak you in some butterscotch pudding."
"That's why I flirt with the nurses. They get me the good puddings." Charles reached up and wiped the furrow out of Erik's brow. "Oh, stop that. I do mean what I said, Erik. Even ignoring the medical, the psychological repercussions are going to be impressive. I'll likely need a counselor."
"I know..." Erik slid a hand up to his face, thumb rubbing softly along his lip. "Can we... snuggle?"
It took a pathetically long amount of time for Charles to get himself moved over the scant inches he could give over to Erik's body. Thankfully the man was a skinny thing - for all he was too damn tall - and Erik ended up with his head pillowed carefully on Charles' shoulder, an arm slung loosely around his waist, high enough for Charles to feel it. "You're very lovely, you know."
"It took me three days to come to see you. I'm an asshole."
"Oh, you're an asshole? Nope, sorry, not going to work." He pulled Erik tighter. "You came. That's the part that matters. I have been pushing people away, just a bit."
"I didn't notice."
"Hush, I'm feeling fragile at the moment."
Erik bit his earlobe. Charles yelped.
"Oh, God!" Raven groaned from just outside the room. "I was going to be polite but just like... get a room."
"I have a room!" Charles said. "But if you're very nice you can come join us."
Raven made her way in and sat in the chair Erik had vacated, and they ended up staying like that for another hour or so before the need for morphine became overwhelming and Charles shooed them out so he could sleep, but for the first time in days he felt just a little alright. It wasn't acceptance, but it was - for a few minutes - delightfully uncomplicated.