For Erik intimacy of this kind is more complicated to navigate; he can know where he stands when whetting the sharpest edges of his anger and aggression and pain in the welcoming heat of Charles' body, but like this--sometimes he's still unsure, if only in all the newness it presents. So his rough chuckle is a little shaky for reasons only partially accounted for by the moisture of Charles' breath, the muted echo of a sigh just the same. "I know what time it is. But we're already in bed like a couple of layabouts, so I've stopped caring. Officially."
He observes all of these mutually restorative touches to bare skin that seems mussed somehow, mostly because his turtleneck is rucked up the way it is, and shifts away from Charles for all of seconds to just tug it over his head, like this is neater somehow, just the broad, trim outline of his torso. "For someone who's so forgiving of other people, your standards for yourself are merciless. Just an observation."
An observation which presents fascinating levels of hypocrisy in many respects, so whether or not its intentions make up for that at all is up to Charles. Either way Erik resettles and nestles them close together again, dipping his head to kiss Charles briefly on the mouth. He hasn't done that in ...some hours, and it's another of those things that at once feels good, simply, but then that simplicity is deceptive.