Title: 867-5309
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~2000 words
Content notes: this is set in my powered HIMYM!AU where the XMFC characters stand in for HIMYM characters. Charles is bi!Ted and Erik is gay!Barney, and the characterization for both is a fusion of the two so may or may not match up well with XMFC characterization.
Author notes: This is for the communication challenge.
Summary: Charles sleeps with Erik just the once. He always knew it would be a pretty bad idea, and he was not wrong in that.
Charles sleeps with Erik just the once. He always knew it would be a pretty bad idea, and he was not wrong in that.
*
Charles' phone rings for the twenty-third time, and for the twenty-third time he lets it go to voicemail. He's just not up for dealing with some insane Erik scheme tonight. He's not even up for showering - in fact, he hasn't in four days. He's much happier drinking at home, alone, thank you very much. He doesn't need anyone. Not Erik. Certainly not Gabrielle. Gabri-who.
Charles' phone rings for the twenty-fourth time.
Half an hour later, Charles' phone rings for the thirty-seventh time, and he answers it.
"What? I'm trying to drown my sorrows here, dude. This better be good."
"Charles, help," Erik says. "I just...did something...to the Brooklyn Bridge."
Oh, for god's sake.
*
When Charles and Azazel bamf onto Erik's boat in the middle of the river, Charles is all set to say, 'Have you considered not doing X to the Brooklyn Bridge on weeks that began with my being left at the altar?' with X of course being whatever Erik has done to it. Except that it looks the same to Charles, so what he ends up saying instead is, "...What exactly did you say you did to it, again?"
"I didn't say I did anything to it," Erik says. "I said I was going to do something to it, which you would know if you were listening."
"Oh god," Charles says, as Erik raises his hands (much more flamboyantly than necessary).
Three minutes later, the Brooklyn Bridge now spells out: 'Ladies! For a good time, call Charles at 867-5309'
"I'm not trying to say I don't appreciate the sentiment - but that is not my phone number," Charles says.
"Sure it is," Erik says.
"Um, no, that's not my phone number, it's a song," Charles says, and then sings, "Jenny don't change your number..."
"...Well, you could have told me that before I set the bridge on fire," Erik complains, like this is somehow a statement that makes sense - which it sort of is when Charles glances back and sees that yep, the bridge actually is on fire, starting with the C in 'Charles' and traveling to the right.
"There are people on that bridge, Erik!" Charles protests.
"They're moving," Erik says dismissively, which is true enough, but still. "Now what's your actual phone number so I can fix it?"
Charles reaches into his pocket for his cell, only to come up empty-handed. "Sorry, I think I must have left my phone on the coffee table."
Erik gives him an incredulous look. "You're busting my balls here, Charles," he says, and brings out his own cellphone to look it up.
Charles glances over at Azazel, who's practically bent over with laughter, and suspects there is no way this story won't be getting back to Raven within the hour.
*
Erik has managed to fix six of the seven digits by the time the helicopter is clearly headed their way. Considering all the cop cars on either end of the bridge, it seems reasonable enough to assume that the helicopter is related.
They bamf back to Charles' apartment, over Erik's protests of "just one more minute," "almost got it," and "I can take a helicopter, I don't know what you're so worried about."
*
"It would have worked to get you laid," Erik says, when Azazel has gone. "You need to get laid, Charles. Forget that Gabby chick."
Ordinarily, Charles would correct him; Gabriella hates that nickname. But no point in it now. "You're probably right," he says.
*
And the more Charles thinks of it, the more it seems like a good idea, getting laid.
Only. Someone with a phone number one digit off from Charles' is getting all those phone calls from the desperate, so for him to get laid he would need to actually shower and dress in clean clothing and actually, like, leave his apartment, and all of that seems like way too much work.
There's really only one prospect, if Charles wants to get laid tonight. And Erik is, he knows, entirely serious every time he comes onto him. He's Erik's physical type, certainly; how many times has Charles seen him go home with some dark-haired guy about Charles' size? And it may be that only Erik is easy enough to overlook the showering issue.
Charles has never considered it before, because what he wants and what Erik wants are two entirely different entities. He wants to meet someone, marry some nice girl and settle down in a gigantic house and have twenty kids; Erik is so very much the opposite, always on the move from conquest to conquest.
But for once, Charles doesn't want anything complicated, anything with strings and emotions attached to it; what he wants is something simple, physical, temporary.
For once, they want the same thing.
*
When he pulls Erik into a kiss, he gets a flash of triumph from Erik's mind, but shuts it down because really, if he's going to be Erik's fuck of the day he's not going to listen to all the comparisons too.
*
So, turns out Erik wasn't lying any of the times he claimed to give the best blowjobs ever. Not that Erik himself ever thought he was lying - the few of his thoughts Charles has been so unlucky as to pick up on always seemed to support this statement. But people can and do lie to themselves. Perception matters more than fact, when it comes to memory.
Charles finds himself wondering, at some point after the second one, how in the world Erik gets rid of his conquests the morning after - why they don't all just follow him around like sad little puppies with sad little puppy faces that he won't ever sleep with the same guy twice (not like, literal puppies. obviously. ew).
*
In the morning, Charles wakes up and thinks, Oh, god, because apparently last night he thought sleeping with Erik was a valid life decision, and now he just knows it's going to be weird. Oh god, it's going to be so weird and awkward, they're never going to be able to look each other in the eye ever, ever again.
He has his pants halfway back on when Erik says, sleepily, "Let's get married."
And it's a terrible, horrible, very bad joke - and really, who the hell makes jokes like that at a time like this? What Charles probably should say is 'What the fuck, Erik; you know I just got left at the altar,' but he's so relieved that Erik can joke right now that he laughs (probably several degrees harder of a laugh than indicated) and says, "Good one. And here I thought this was going to be all awkward." He looks around for his shirt and sees Erik's turtleneck lying in a rumpled pile on the floor, which he picks up. "Oh man, you were totally lying when you said you won't jump into bed with anyone until you've hung your precious turtleneck up in the closet so it doesn't get all wrinkled. Don't worry though, I won't tell anyone."
Erik lurches out of the bed, snatches the turtleneck out of Charles' hands and says, "Get out."
Charles has never, not once, heard him use a tone like that; never seen him look like that, either, and god Erik looks scary right now. No wonder he doesn't have puppy-guys following him around constantly, if this is how he plays the morning after.
"Are you really going to be like this?" Charles says. "Really, Erik? Really?"
"Get out."
"Um, this is my apartment. Maybe you should get out."
"Get. Out."
Charles gets out.
*
Erik doesn't answer his phone when Charles calls, not for three whole weeks.
Charles honestly thought their friendship meant something to Erik. More than this.
And so one day he's home from work and he's been drinking, not that much, and he's just - he's dialing Erik's cell for the thirty-seventh time (he is not certain why he's counting) and it occurs to him that since he picked up on the thirty-seventh try that night that it's only fair, it's only right that Erik will pick up on the thirty-seventh try as well. God, he should have thought of it before, gotten all thirty-six other calls out of the way first and then it wouldn't have had to be three weeks of...nothing like this.
It goes to voicemail, and Charles can't believe it, he can't believe this, what the hell??
He should hang up, just like all the other times - he should - but instead he finds himself saying, "You realize how, like, not-cool you're being about this, don't you? You know, I expected better of you, I really did. All that talk about how you're my best friend, well, that was all bullshit. Obviously. I mean, god, Erik, self-nominated best friends aren't supposed to fucking abandon you at your most vulnerable because they've finally gotten what they wanted out of you. Some friend you are. If you were really my friend, like at all, you would be over here right now to stop me from calling Gabrielle. Because I am drunk -" he's not that drunk, really "- and as soon as I hang up on your stupid voicemail I'm going to call her -" he's not going to call her; he deleted her number and all the call history off his phone weeks ago to get rid of the temptation "- and I'm going to beg her to take me back, and I'm going to cry like a little baby and make a complete idiot of myself in the doing, and do you know why? Because you aren't here to stop me, that's why. That's the kind of friend you are."
There's no answer, and Charles sits there looking at the screen of his phone, waiting for it to light up with a text or a call, something from Erik to tell him that no, calling Gabrielle is a horrible idea when there are all these girls he hasn't slept with yet waiting out there, and Erik will be there in a jiffy with some insane course of action.
Twenty minutes later, Erik still hasn't, and considering that Erik is practically married to his phone all that can mean is he's not going to; that Charles has made a complete idiot of himself anyway, only to Erik instead of Gabrielle.
Lovely.
Thirty minutes after that, Charles is flipping through channels trying to find something decent to watch, when there is a very loud crunching noise. He looks towards it down at the coffee table and sees that his cellphone has been...well, crunched.
Then his apartment door flies open and Erik says, "Don't call her. You moron."
"I could have called her forty times by now," Charles says. "Your timing sucks."
*
"What are we watching?" Erik says.
Charles glances at the television, and apparently he stopped on a Lifetime movie about alcoholism or something. "...Not that," he says, and makes to change it, until Erik says they could probably make a drinking game out of it. Which is horrible, but that's Erik for you.
*
Later, Charles says, "Erik, you really don't have to be all weird, just because we slept together. I mean. I know what I'm like, but I really don't want like anything more with you, it's totally cool with me if we just stay friends. So don't worry about it."
Erik grimaces, and takes a long swallow of his beer.
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~2000 words
Content notes: this is set in my powered HIMYM!AU where the XMFC characters stand in for HIMYM characters. Charles is bi!Ted and Erik is gay!Barney, and the characterization for both is a fusion of the two so may or may not match up well with XMFC characterization.
Author notes: This is for the communication challenge.
Summary: Charles sleeps with Erik just the once. He always knew it would be a pretty bad idea, and he was not wrong in that.
Charles sleeps with Erik just the once. He always knew it would be a pretty bad idea, and he was not wrong in that.
*
Charles' phone rings for the twenty-third time, and for the twenty-third time he lets it go to voicemail. He's just not up for dealing with some insane Erik scheme tonight. He's not even up for showering - in fact, he hasn't in four days. He's much happier drinking at home, alone, thank you very much. He doesn't need anyone. Not Erik. Certainly not Gabrielle. Gabri-who.
Charles' phone rings for the twenty-fourth time.
Half an hour later, Charles' phone rings for the thirty-seventh time, and he answers it.
"What? I'm trying to drown my sorrows here, dude. This better be good."
"Charles, help," Erik says. "I just...did something...to the Brooklyn Bridge."
Oh, for god's sake.
*
When Charles and Azazel bamf onto Erik's boat in the middle of the river, Charles is all set to say, 'Have you considered not doing X to the Brooklyn Bridge on weeks that began with my being left at the altar?' with X of course being whatever Erik has done to it. Except that it looks the same to Charles, so what he ends up saying instead is, "...What exactly did you say you did to it, again?"
"I didn't say I did anything to it," Erik says. "I said I was going to do something to it, which you would know if you were listening."
"Oh god," Charles says, as Erik raises his hands (much more flamboyantly than necessary).
Three minutes later, the Brooklyn Bridge now spells out: 'Ladies! For a good time, call Charles at 867-5309'
"I'm not trying to say I don't appreciate the sentiment - but that is not my phone number," Charles says.
"Sure it is," Erik says.
"Um, no, that's not my phone number, it's a song," Charles says, and then sings, "Jenny don't change your number..."
"...Well, you could have told me that before I set the bridge on fire," Erik complains, like this is somehow a statement that makes sense - which it sort of is when Charles glances back and sees that yep, the bridge actually is on fire, starting with the C in 'Charles' and traveling to the right.
"There are people on that bridge, Erik!" Charles protests.
"They're moving," Erik says dismissively, which is true enough, but still. "Now what's your actual phone number so I can fix it?"
Charles reaches into his pocket for his cell, only to come up empty-handed. "Sorry, I think I must have left my phone on the coffee table."
Erik gives him an incredulous look. "You're busting my balls here, Charles," he says, and brings out his own cellphone to look it up.
Charles glances over at Azazel, who's practically bent over with laughter, and suspects there is no way this story won't be getting back to Raven within the hour.
*
Erik has managed to fix six of the seven digits by the time the helicopter is clearly headed their way. Considering all the cop cars on either end of the bridge, it seems reasonable enough to assume that the helicopter is related.
They bamf back to Charles' apartment, over Erik's protests of "just one more minute," "almost got it," and "I can take a helicopter, I don't know what you're so worried about."
*
"It would have worked to get you laid," Erik says, when Azazel has gone. "You need to get laid, Charles. Forget that Gabby chick."
Ordinarily, Charles would correct him; Gabriella hates that nickname. But no point in it now. "You're probably right," he says.
*
And the more Charles thinks of it, the more it seems like a good idea, getting laid.
Only. Someone with a phone number one digit off from Charles' is getting all those phone calls from the desperate, so for him to get laid he would need to actually shower and dress in clean clothing and actually, like, leave his apartment, and all of that seems like way too much work.
There's really only one prospect, if Charles wants to get laid tonight. And Erik is, he knows, entirely serious every time he comes onto him. He's Erik's physical type, certainly; how many times has Charles seen him go home with some dark-haired guy about Charles' size? And it may be that only Erik is easy enough to overlook the showering issue.
Charles has never considered it before, because what he wants and what Erik wants are two entirely different entities. He wants to meet someone, marry some nice girl and settle down in a gigantic house and have twenty kids; Erik is so very much the opposite, always on the move from conquest to conquest.
But for once, Charles doesn't want anything complicated, anything with strings and emotions attached to it; what he wants is something simple, physical, temporary.
For once, they want the same thing.
*
When he pulls Erik into a kiss, he gets a flash of triumph from Erik's mind, but shuts it down because really, if he's going to be Erik's fuck of the day he's not going to listen to all the comparisons too.
*
So, turns out Erik wasn't lying any of the times he claimed to give the best blowjobs ever. Not that Erik himself ever thought he was lying - the few of his thoughts Charles has been so unlucky as to pick up on always seemed to support this statement. But people can and do lie to themselves. Perception matters more than fact, when it comes to memory.
Charles finds himself wondering, at some point after the second one, how in the world Erik gets rid of his conquests the morning after - why they don't all just follow him around like sad little puppies with sad little puppy faces that he won't ever sleep with the same guy twice (not like, literal puppies. obviously. ew).
*
In the morning, Charles wakes up and thinks, Oh, god, because apparently last night he thought sleeping with Erik was a valid life decision, and now he just knows it's going to be weird. Oh god, it's going to be so weird and awkward, they're never going to be able to look each other in the eye ever, ever again.
He has his pants halfway back on when Erik says, sleepily, "Let's get married."
And it's a terrible, horrible, very bad joke - and really, who the hell makes jokes like that at a time like this? What Charles probably should say is 'What the fuck, Erik; you know I just got left at the altar,' but he's so relieved that Erik can joke right now that he laughs (probably several degrees harder of a laugh than indicated) and says, "Good one. And here I thought this was going to be all awkward." He looks around for his shirt and sees Erik's turtleneck lying in a rumpled pile on the floor, which he picks up. "Oh man, you were totally lying when you said you won't jump into bed with anyone until you've hung your precious turtleneck up in the closet so it doesn't get all wrinkled. Don't worry though, I won't tell anyone."
Erik lurches out of the bed, snatches the turtleneck out of Charles' hands and says, "Get out."
Charles has never, not once, heard him use a tone like that; never seen him look like that, either, and god Erik looks scary right now. No wonder he doesn't have puppy-guys following him around constantly, if this is how he plays the morning after.
"Are you really going to be like this?" Charles says. "Really, Erik? Really?"
"Get out."
"Um, this is my apartment. Maybe you should get out."
"Get. Out."
Charles gets out.
*
Erik doesn't answer his phone when Charles calls, not for three whole weeks.
Charles honestly thought their friendship meant something to Erik. More than this.
And so one day he's home from work and he's been drinking, not that much, and he's just - he's dialing Erik's cell for the thirty-seventh time (he is not certain why he's counting) and it occurs to him that since he picked up on the thirty-seventh try that night that it's only fair, it's only right that Erik will pick up on the thirty-seventh try as well. God, he should have thought of it before, gotten all thirty-six other calls out of the way first and then it wouldn't have had to be three weeks of...nothing like this.
It goes to voicemail, and Charles can't believe it, he can't believe this, what the hell??
He should hang up, just like all the other times - he should - but instead he finds himself saying, "You realize how, like, not-cool you're being about this, don't you? You know, I expected better of you, I really did. All that talk about how you're my best friend, well, that was all bullshit. Obviously. I mean, god, Erik, self-nominated best friends aren't supposed to fucking abandon you at your most vulnerable because they've finally gotten what they wanted out of you. Some friend you are. If you were really my friend, like at all, you would be over here right now to stop me from calling Gabrielle. Because I am drunk -" he's not that drunk, really "- and as soon as I hang up on your stupid voicemail I'm going to call her -" he's not going to call her; he deleted her number and all the call history off his phone weeks ago to get rid of the temptation "- and I'm going to beg her to take me back, and I'm going to cry like a little baby and make a complete idiot of myself in the doing, and do you know why? Because you aren't here to stop me, that's why. That's the kind of friend you are."
There's no answer, and Charles sits there looking at the screen of his phone, waiting for it to light up with a text or a call, something from Erik to tell him that no, calling Gabrielle is a horrible idea when there are all these girls he hasn't slept with yet waiting out there, and Erik will be there in a jiffy with some insane course of action.
Twenty minutes later, Erik still hasn't, and considering that Erik is practically married to his phone all that can mean is he's not going to; that Charles has made a complete idiot of himself anyway, only to Erik instead of Gabrielle.
Lovely.
Thirty minutes after that, Charles is flipping through channels trying to find something decent to watch, when there is a very loud crunching noise. He looks towards it down at the coffee table and sees that his cellphone has been...well, crunched.
Then his apartment door flies open and Erik says, "Don't call her. You moron."
"I could have called her forty times by now," Charles says. "Your timing sucks."
*
"What are we watching?" Erik says.
Charles glances at the television, and apparently he stopped on a Lifetime movie about alcoholism or something. "...Not that," he says, and makes to change it, until Erik says they could probably make a drinking game out of it. Which is horrible, but that's Erik for you.
*
Later, Charles says, "Erik, you really don't have to be all weird, just because we slept together. I mean. I know what I'm like, but I really don't want like anything more with you, it's totally cool with me if we just stay friends. So don't worry about it."
Erik grimaces, and takes a long swallow of his beer.
About
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
fan_flashworks is an all-fandoms multi-media flashworks community. We post a themed challenge every ten days or so; you make any kind of fanwork in response to the challenge and post it here. More detailed guidelines are here.The community on Livejournal:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif){kind=small}
fan_flashworks ![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Designed by ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chasethestars
chasethestars
Comments
This was adorable, though. I love misunderstandings so much. They're just so fun, even when people get hurt. Lovely.
(Totally unrelated, but who's Robin? Moira?
That said, Charles, you're so stupidly oblivious, but that's what this trope is for and why I love it so much.
I adore this trope too!!! Recently miscommunication!fic has become my new favorite thing.
OHLORD, WTF CHARLES, I just want to punch you in the throat right now, UGH. I love misunderstandings and I can definitely see how this would actually work but ARGH, Charles, don't you see how Erik really feels about you? You dumbass -.-
This was awesome, sad and hilarious at the same time, and I can't wait to read the rest of this AU - afterall, I did talk you into writing this, I TOLD YOU IT WOULD BE GOOD XD
Ah ha ha ha, yes, Charles is a tad slow on the uptake there. :)
I have started posting what I have so far to AO3; what you saw on the kink meme has been edited and posted as chapter one. I'm working on tinkering with this part, which will be chapter two and posted on AO3 on Friday. I have two more parts planned I think, and hope to be done by sometime this weekend....