ionic: ((xfc) make this go on)
[personal profile] ionic
This is super fluffy future!fic/kid!fic. No context necessary. (I think? They're dodgy professors by this point and have kids.) This arose from talking to [livejournal.com profile] stlkrchck about Charles hiding dinosaurs in the lawn for their kids to discover while Wanda and Pietro are going through a dinosaur phase.

Erik stands in the kitchen washing dishes, pointedly ignoring the irritated whirring of the coffee machine, while Charles traipses around outside destroying their lawn. He has been at it the past hour, armed with a trowel and several plastic dinosaurs, moving in and out of Erik’s line of vision, leaving some very distinct unearthed patches amidst the grass. Finished with the last pan, Erik places it on the drying rack and goes outside to stage an intervention.

“Charles,” Erik says, just loud enough to get Charles’ attention.

He looks over, smiles brightly at Erik in a way that has not diminished over the years--really, has heightened, more than anything--, and still makes his heart beat faster. “Hello, darling,” Charles says, standing up, wiping the dirt off his hands onto his grass-stained khakis.

Erik sighs, leans over to confiscate the trowel before Charles can stop him. “You do need to leave some of the lawn intact.”

“It is intact--I’ve just … redistributed some of the grass,” Charles says.

“And left behind plastic toys in your wake,” Erik says, unimpressed.

“Dinosaurs,” Charles corrects. “There are now several sites from which Wanda and Pietro can excavate.”

“You are spoiling them terribly,” Erik says.

“They looked so disappointed when all they found in the garden were half-grown carrots,” Charles says.

“This is setting unrealistic expectations for the future,” Erik says.

Charles quirks an eyebrow. “And the astronaut-pirate ship was all about setting reasonable expectations,” he says.

“That was different,” Erik says, comfortably dismissive, since he’s aware he's just as bad as Charles, but at least Erik’s endeavors don’t mangle the lawn--usually.

Charles rolls his eyes, but he hasn’t stopped smiling. “May I have my trowel back?”

No,” Erik says. “You don’t even have any dinosaurs left.”

“I’m adding in some red herrings to make the discoveries all the more exciting,” Charles says. “I’d like to finish in time to get cleaned up before we should pick them up from Raven’s.”

“Oh, well then--” Erik says sarcastically. “Absolutely not.”

“Now things will just be too easy,” Charles says, heaving an exaggerated sigh that Erik knows Charles learned from Raven.

“But our lawn will be fine,” Erik says.

Charles’ expression does something complicated, and he steps closer into Erik’s space. He’s ready to hold the trowel out of reach, but instead of making a grab for it Charles rests his hands on Erik’s chest and kisses him, slow and sweet. Erik hooks an arm around Charles’ waist, kissing him back, and when they part Charles is grinning at him.

“What was that for?” Erik asks quietly, curious but definitely not complaining--he has become fluent in Charles-speak, but sometimes Charles-logic still takes a moment to catch up with.

“We have a lawn. Together,” Charles says.

Erik gives him an evaluating look. “We also have kids. Is this just occurring to you now?”

“No, no, no--of course not, but--all of this is ours,” Charles says, emphasizing the point, and that Erik understands perfectly.

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March 2012

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