Case in point, what they didn't do today furrows Erik's brow further, but then smooths out with a startled look from under his winged-down lashes when Charles touches his hair. The other man will know him well enough to understand that he hasn't forgotten; Erik could no more stop hunting Shaw than he could stop breathing, but this--even if it can't make him forget, it warms him, and he pushes his head into Charles' hand like nothing so much as an insistent cat.

If not one of the great variety; he'd probably fit right in stalking around in the woods with the dire wolves. "You do have me at your leisure," he points out, sounding like this is a complete lie, which it ....sort of is. On one hand Erik's need to control everything in his environment has driven him since he was barely an adult, and that extends to this, but on the other it's pleasing in a way to make himself wait, to watch Charles with eyes like a hungry, lithe, stalking thing, and see what he does, to watch his hands move over Erik like the pass of pale birds.

He flattens a hand on Charles' abdomen and considers the spaces between his own fingers, pushes just enough to feel muscle push back. "What do you want from me? If you say 'everything'," he warns, cajoling and teasing all at once, "I won't take you seriously. I'm not a machine."

Ahem. "But," and there's little of that mockery left in his voice, gentle as it was, "there is nothing I won't give you, not if you ask for it."