Fandom: X-Men First Class
Warning: light slash
There's nothing in the world better than the way Erik holds him in bed, cradled against his chest, tucked under his chin safe, protected, treasured. Most children, Charles knows, grow up on that feeling, that knowledge that they are precious to their mother, father, insert-primary-caretaker-here. Charles never had that.
He has it now.
Sometimes Erik even sings to him seldom sings, really, but murmurs, hums, a drowsy approximation of song while he strokes Charles's hair. Usually nothing Charles recognizes the lyrics, when he can make them out at all, are German, or Polish, or Hebrew. It doesn't matter.
Except tonight Charles does know the tune almost. It dances on the edge of his memory, pulling him away from sleep with its irritating almost-familiarity. "Know that song," he murmurs sleepily. "Whassit called?"
"I don't know," Erik says thoughtfully. "I can't remember any of the words. Don't k