Erik loves Charles. He knows he does, and he knows that Charles knows. He loves everything about him, from the tips of his toes to his hidden stash of Harlequin romance novels (the man hoards them. Erik finds it precious when Charles insists it's not an addiction). But despite Erik's love for all of Charles' charms, vices, and shortcomings, that feeling can't compare to Erik's obsession with with spaces around Charles. The spaces that curve and stretch into Charles-shaped gaps in the universe to accommodate his sheer muchness are what captivate Erik the most about Charles.

Erik loves the place between the bed and the curve of Charles' spine.

Not because it never ceases to amaze him how bendy Charles is, although it does come as a nice surprise, even after all this time. Erik loves that hot, stagnant pocket of air because it shows him how much Charles needs to be close to him. Charles is horrible at lying still in bed, it's something he just cannot do. Even if Erik is gently soothing Charles's fingers free from their grip on the bedsheets, before wrapping them in his own and whispering "I have you." Charles is still squirming endlessly as he arches wantonly in Erik, the frayed edges of his mind babbling and pleading.

Erik loves the place between the bed and the curve of Charles' spine because it lets him see how much Charles needs him.

Erik loves the little hollows in Charles' cheeks when he's trying not to smile.

Not because dimples are incredibly fetching on Charles, although they very much are, and Erik often kisses Charles out of the blue when they appear. Erik loves them because they draw the attention away from the half-smile on Charles' lips (a task much, much easier said than done), letting Erik focus on the smile in Charles' eyes. Erik wouldn't call Charles' eyes cobalt, or even azure, because those colours already have their little niche, and Erik doesn't want to fit the colour of Charles' eyes into any sort of container. When Erik finds the sheer joy in those eyes, it makes his heart swell three times too big, and it's all Erik can do not to spirit Charles away to some magical place where he will never have to suffer.

Erik loves the little hollows in Charles' cheeks because they showcase the happiness in Charles' eyes.

Erik loves the steep angle under Charles' ribcage when he takes a sharp breath.

Not because he knows he's making Charles come undone, although it is nice knowing that he is the sole reason for Charles' ecstasy. Erik loves it because he can feel Charles relinquishing control, letting Erik guide him, and Erik knows it's because Charles trusts likes to know, to be certain of goings-on, and he's always had that privilege with his telepathy. When they're making love (Not sex. Charles never calls it sex), Charles' mind blends into Erik's. It's hard to think with the violent bursts of wantyouneedyouloveyou exploding behind his eyelids, but Erik knows Charles isn't reading him because he trusts him to push him past the brink and bring him back safely each time.

Erik loves the steep angle under Charles' ribcage because he knows Charles is trusting him.

Erik loves the gaps between Charles' fingers.

Not because he likes to think that his own fingers fit nicely between them, although they do, and Erik brought it up once, despite how cliché it was (Charles' smile made all the embarrassment worth it). Erik loves them because they make him notice how tapered Charles' fingers are. Charles has pianist's hands, and they flutter like pale birds when he talks animatedly about his (Sadly impossible, as no one Erik has ever met has ever been half as selfless as Charles is) dreams for the future. Sometimes, when Charles is talking about those things, Erik focuses just hard enough on those gaps and he sees it, He sees what Charles wants to achieve, the world he strives to build, through those little, little gaps, and Erik can believe everything will be alright.

Erik loves the gaps between Charles' fingers because he can see Charles' world in them.

Erik knows that Charles knows that Erik loves Charles. He loves everything about him, from the top of his head to his secret tin of year-round candy canes (Charles eats enough of the stuff to put him in a diabetic coma. Erik finds it more endearing than concerning). And despite Erik's captivation with the dips and curves surrounding the ever-present, ever-loving force that is Charles, Erik knows that the only reason they hold his attention so tightly is because they highlight the littlest things about Charles that Erik is afraid he would otherwise overlook.