𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘬.

He smiled and moved to run his hands up Erik's chest, moving to play with his love's hair. "Can I get back to baking or are you going to hold me hostage for the rest of the night?" He purred softly.

He let a soft chuckle leave his lips. "Oh, it wasn't always like this. You know that. My German used to be horrific." He purred, leaning into those kisses with a happy grin. He always loved being so close to Erik.

"Oh, good. . .I've been working on my German. I was afraid I'd he a lost cause, honestly." He purred softly at the feeling of the others' hands on his skin. . .it felt so nice, honestly. Erik's touch always did.

He let out a tiny sound as he was picked up and he flushed brightly, looking at Erik with big eyes. That's not what he was expecting. "I. . .if I translated that correctly then. . .then I love you, too." He's been working on his German specifically for Erik. Don't judge him.

He chuckled, hands moving to run through those locks. He also wasn't going to talk about how he had to get on his toes slightly to reach. "I can tease you all I want, Erik. You tease me all the time." He purred softly.

Charles let out a soft giggle, moving to cup Erik's cheeks so he has to look back up at him. "Are you flustered, dear?" He asked softly. "Of all the filthy things that's left your mouth and me telling you how much I love you is what gets you hot and bothered?"

He chuckled and ran his thing over the man's cheek, humming softly. "There's no need to be frustrated, darling. I promise. I have no plans on going anywhere anytime soon. Not without you."

He chuckled and cupped Erik's cheeks. Oh, how he loved this man. Sure, they had their differences but he loved him all the same. "You seem frustrated by that fact, dear?" He cocked his head, trying to figure out his lover.

He was still smiling. It's not like it was rare to get Erik to show emotion or to hear him spill his heart to Charles anyway. But it did warm his heart. "Are you alright, liebling?" Hey, he knows Erik likes hearing him try to speak German with bus English accent.

He made a soft sound at the squeeze, not really getting much time to do much in the way of reacting except to just return the kiss, resting his hands on Erik's chest. But he was smiling. 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘬.

"Don't lie, Erik. It doesn't look good on you." His poor attempt at dirty talk. He's trying his best here. Also, he knows Erik just has a filthy mind. "I never said I wanted you to stop, love."

"Well. . .yes, I was surprised. I don't expect you to have filthy thoughts day in and day out— although now I'm sure I'll have to—" He gasped at the hair pull, his face even more flushed at this point. Damn this man. "Erik, w. . . we're still in the kitchen, you know?"

He cleared his throat and put on a brave face to look up at him with the confidence of someone wearing a pink apron. "Imagine my surprise to find dirty thoughts running through your head about me in my apron, Erik. How crude." Because Charles is innocent in this. Totally.

He flushed and hid his face with his hands for a moment. How could he be so dumb? "Listen. . .I was very much taken off guard by you putting your hand around my throat while I was baking cookies." He was even wearing a cute lil pink apron.

His stomach was doing 80 million flips. The butterflies were intense and that was a fact. "I— what do you mean?" You fucking idiot, you can read minds. He's not wearing his helmet. ". . .right." He flushed, pressing two fingers to his temple and got even redder. "Oh my. . ."

He returns had no problems letting Erik kiss wherever he pleased, really. It made him weak in the knees regardless. But— oh, the feeling of the tightening hand around his throat made him whimper softly. "I. . .m-may I ask what you're doing, dear?"

Could he tell how flushed he was? Because Charles was FLUSHED beyond belief. He definitely wasn't prepared. But he did return the kiss quite happily. "You caught me while I was baking." He mumbled against his lips.

O h. F u c k. He's looking up rather innocently. "I— Erik?" He's been a good boy! For the, uh. . .most part. Ahem.

. . .yes?