Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Something in you brought out something in me

That I've never been since

That part of me that was only for you

That kind of romance

Comes only once, that kind of love

That kind of fever dance

That you love because you become someone else in an instant

Say You Will - Fleetwood Mac

Erik let out a sigh of relief as he flipped his laptop shut. Other students moved in a flurry around him, gathering up their bags and books chattering loudly. It was official — his sophomore year of college was over. Well, the classes anyway. He had several exams on the (rapidly approaching) horizon, but he was choosing not to think about that right now. He ran his hand through his hair and waited for a minute until most of the crowd had dispersed, then shouldered his bag and headed out. He glanced at his watch, even though class ended at roughly the same time every week. He had just under half an hour before his shift started, so he began to make his way across campus. Hopefully I can make myself a coffee before I have to start serving customers, he thought. He was already feeling a little tired. It was getting warm outside, spring inching into summer, and he pushed up the sleeves of his shirt as he walked. Despite having plenty of time, he got frustrated stuck behind a couple of slow walkers glued to their phones, and swiftly cut in front of them. Their stupid designer bags and sunglasses, walking like they owned the path. He looked back with a glare. They didn’t notice.

Erik’s second year at Columbia had been an improvement over the first. For a start, his classes had become more focused and relevant to his mechanical engineering major, and he was also getting better at managing his course load. The barista job he’d picked up wasn’t as frustrating as he’d feared, and the bit of extra money he could put aside contributed greatly to his peace of mind. While his scholarship covered housing and tuition, earning something for himself meant he could cover anything else he needed without having to ask his mother for help. He was loath to ask, let alone stretch her already thin budget. He also had to begrudgingly admit that the people he worked with weren’t so terrible either, and the majority were fellow mutants. Outside of his roommate and his coworkers, he didn’t socialise much. In fact he hadn’t exactly embraced the whole ‘college student lifestyle’ he’d seen in movies during high school at all. His goals were pretty simple — to get grades high enough to meet the requirements of his scholarship, and then get a stable, good enough paying job that would make use of his talents, and mean he wasn’t living month to month or scrambling to pay rent. He was sure that was exactly what his mother had hoped for him too, when she moved the family from Germany to the US after his father’s death. And it was working for him fine so far.

“Hey, man!” his coworker Alex greeted him, as he swung open the cafe door. He had blonde, spiky hair and blue eyes, and looked vaguely like an annoying frat guy, but he had turned out to be mostly alright. Mostly. Erik nodded in acknowledgement before making his way directly to the staff area. He dumped his bag and took off his over shirt, making a face at the mess in the back room. His fingers itched to sort it out, but he stopped himself. Coffee first. He stepped back out behind the counter where Alex was leaning, scrolling on his phone. Erik cocked an eyebrow.

“Busy?” he asked sarcastically, starting to gather what he needed to brew his customary double espresso. The metal of the machine and its components responded instantly to every gesture and flick of his fingers. Alex had seen it many times before, but couldn’t help his impressed glance as Erik worked. Alex was a mutant too, but he'd had a lot more trouble working at keeping his powers under control, and didn't get many opportunities to show off his plasma blasts at college.

“You just missed the rush,” he shrugged, unbothered by Erik’s tone. “Everyone’s back in class now.” He went back to scrolling. The song playing in the background ended, and a loud electronic beat filled the room.

Erik winced. “Did you let Angel choose the playlist again?” he complained. Alex laughed.

“Oh hey, Erik!” Angel called out over the music. She finished wiping down the table and grinned at him over the counter. “Whining about my excellent taste again?" she asked, flicking him in the shoulder with her wet rag. Her wings were folded down against her bare shoulders and arms, so that they were disguised as tattoos. She preferred to hide this way when working with the general public, which rankled Erik a bit. Instead of the point of pride it should be, it was just another incredible and unique mutation that he had only seen in action a handful of times.

“Get that disgusting thing away from me,” Erik scowled. “Anyway, I thought this was a cafe, not a club—”

“When was the last time you were in a club, old man?” Angel teased.

Alex snorted, looking up from his phone. “I’m gonna say… never,” he concluded. “I’m not sure he even knows how to have fun.”

Erik scoffed. "Why even bother going to a club if you can't drink?"

"Yep, never had any fun," Angel agreed. "If you're young and hot you can get a drink anywhere around here," she said, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. Erik rolled his eyes and picked up his coffee. He inhaled the intoxicating scent and took a large gulp.

"Hey, aren't you done for the year now?" Alex asked. "We should do something—"

Erik shook his head. "Exams first. I'll be studying my ass off for the next few weeks. Then… we can see." If he was lucky he could come up with a different excuse by then. He was going to leave the dorms and head home for most of the summer holiday anyway. He had picked up some gardening and handyman work in his mother's neighbourhood, and he knew his mama would appreciate the company again. She got lonely since his sister had gotten married the previous year, and he was on campus most of the time.

"You gotta learn to relax, man," Alex admonished him as the door swung open and a customer walked in, heading to the counter.

Erik scooted past Alex to hide in the back room until his shift started. "Give me another few years," he muttered.

Erik carefully pushed open the door to his room and peered through the gloom. It was late, but his shift had gone pretty smoothly, the pestering of his coworkers non-withstanding. He could see what he presumed to be his roommate, more of a shape under the blanket on his bed. He wasn't surprised — he was lucky that Armando was a pretty conscientious student too, more inclined to study and working out than late night parties and blasting music. He'd really hit the roommate jackpot this year — Armando also had an endlessly fascinating mutation which allowed him to adapt as needed to whichever scenario he was in. Erik had been wary about revealing his mutation at college, after the disastrous experiences in middle school when his mutation manifested, but he had ended up finding himself in a small circle of fellow mutants this year, thanks to Armando pointing out a cafe on campus that had hired a few students with mutations already. The owner had been encouraging of him using his powers at work, grateful for the money saved on repairs among the other benefits.

Erik quickly grabbed his shower bag and headed out again to wash off the day's residue. He groaned as the water hit the tense muscles of his shoulders, using his powers to crank up the heat. The showers around him were empty, and he briefly considered jerking off. Everyone was telling him to relax, after all. And he could often sense someone's approach by following the metal on their clothing or accessories as they moved closer to the bathrooms. He ended up deciding against it, the risk not worth it, and the tiredness kicking in more the longer he stood under the spray. He needed to get up early and go for his customary run, then call his mother, and then work out his studying plan around his shifts for the next few weeks. He sighed. He was nearly halfway through, and his classes were only going to get more interesting, he reminded himself. It was all going to be worth it in the end.

"Gut morgn, Mama," Erik said into his phone, flopping onto his narrow bed. He'd gone for his morning run, eaten breakfast and showered already. Armando was spending today in the library too, so he was making the most of the solitude before he had to head out among the other students.

His mother sounded delighted, as she did every time he called. "Ah, good morning boychik," she answered, affectionately. "Vi geyt es?"

"Es geyt gut, a dank," he replied automatically. "How are you, how was your week?"

She launched into a retelling of her last few days — the customers she'd talked with at the florist, the knitting she'd done for a neighbour's baby, the lunch she'd had with Ruth.

"Your sister is too skinny," she complained. "I know she can cook, she learnt from the best," she said nonchalantly. Erik laughed. "But she barely eats, only half a plate. I sent her home with all the leftovers…"

Erik snorted. "Her husband is going to eat all of that, you know. Anyway, Ruth is fine, she never ate that much."

Edie sighed. "She has to be strong, she can't be a stick and have healthy grandchildren—"

"Oh, Mama," Erik interrupted, mirroring her sigh. "Give her a break, they've only been married for a year. She's young too, most people wait until their thirties for all that now."

"Well, it only took your father and I ten months," Edie boasted. Erik groaned. He only had vague memories of his father, from before he had started school, and they'd still lived in Nuremberg. He remembered him as a quiet man, hardworking, but gentle. They'd all felt his loss more keenly around Ruth's wedding, when she'd asked Erik to walk her down the aisle. He'd tried to bring all of the gravitas he could manage to his nineteen year old form, to embody the man he was stepping in to replace. He liked it when his mother still talked about him, but he didn't necessarily want to imagine his parents in their younger, newlywed days.

Edie laughed at his exaggerated discomfort with the topic. Then she switched her spotlight onto him.

"So," she began. "Have you met any nice girls lately, at your fancy schmancy school? Or if it's a real balabusta you prefer, Miriam says her daughter—"

"Mama," Erik interrupted. "I'm too busy, you know that. I'm studying hard, I work at the cafe…"

"And no girls come to your cafe?" Edie protested. "You're a handsome boy, even if you are too serious. Rebekah at the florist told me some women like that intellectual type, especially with your education. Your father didn't talk a lot either but I didn't let that stop me…"

Erik rolled his eyes and let her chatter on for a while. It wasn't that he wasn't interested at all, it was just something he was mostly putting off until he was older. He was pretty sure he wanted that whole thing — the wife and kids and house and everything. But he had enough to worry about for now, before considering anything serious. And it wasn't like he wanted to discuss his sex life with his mother. There were limits.

When he sensed a break in her stream of thought, he hurried to cut in. "Okay, I'd better head off now. I have lots of studying to do," he explained. "Only a few weeks until exams are over, then I'll come home."

"Alright boychick," Edie said in surrender. "Look after yourself. Make sure you are eating enough, and don't work too hard. And don't forget to call me next week too." She paused. "I know you're all grown up, a man now. But I still worry about you."

"Yes Mama," he agreed. "Talk to you then."

Erik set his phone down and stretched. Then, with a sigh, he walked to his desk and switched on his laptop. He opened his fluid mechanics textbook, and cracked his knuckles. For a moment he let himself imagine a future, of an expansive use of his powers, of huge metal structures singing to him, alive under his touch and ready to be moulded by his will. He took a deep breath. Okay. Time to focus.

"Order for Hannah?" Erik called out. He grimaced at the label. "Decaf coffee frappuchino with 4 equal, oat milk, whipped cream, and extra ice?"

A blonde woman in a tight dress stepped forward and grabbed the proffered cup with brightly manicured fingers. "Thanks… Erik," she said, looking down at his name tag and back up at his face with a coy smile. "Nice apron," she chuckled.

"Thanks," Erik replied shortly, and turned away. "Angel, is there more oat milk in the back?" he yelled. The customer blinked in confusion at his abruptness, then spun around to leave, shaking her head.

Angel gave him a withering look. "I'm right here, you don't need to yell," she scolded him. "And can't you tell when someone is flirting with you?"

"What?" Erik asked, heading to the back room. "Oh," he said, glancing at the exit. Without saying anything more, he headed into the storage area and picked up a carton. Angel shook her head at him too.

Erik sighed, and started wiping up some stray coffee grounds from around the espresso machine.

"I noticed," he admitted. "I wasn't interested."

"Why?" Angel exclaimed. "She was hot!" She checked her reflection in the mirror of the polished appliances. Erik thought she was better looking than the customer whose name he had already forgotten, by far. Thankfully, he wasn't actually interested in her, either.

Erik wrinkled his nose. "Her coffee order was stupid," he replied, stubbornly.

Angel rolled her eyes. "Man, you are never going to get laid," she announced.

"Which is none of your business," he shot back. "I'll be up all night with some physics equations anyway," he muttered to himself. Angel mimed an enormous yawn. Then her eyes lit up.

"You know what you need," she started excitedly, "One of Alex's friends is having a party in a couple weeks. An end of semester thing. They have an apartment off-campus." Erik shrugged. "Oh, come on," Angel insisted. "It's going to be fun. And you'll be done with studying then."

"Sounds like every other party around here," Erik said, bored. "Everyone will get drunk, a few people will hook up and probably regret it, someone will puke in a potted plant…"

"Bold of you to assume Alex's friends will own something as nice as a plant," Angel scoffed. "Anyway, that's what young people are supposed to do at parties. Remember?"

"Sure," Erik laughed. "Trust fund kids who who don't have to worry about their grades—"

"Oh, here we go again," Angel muttered under her breath.

"— because they're wasting a few years at college, before they can start their junior executive role at daddy's company," Erik finished with a sneer.

Angel nodded sarcastically. "Yep, that's all of us!"

"I know it's not you," he grumbled. "Just probably half of the people at the party."

"Maybe you wouldn't be so mad if you were drinking more of their liquor, and puking more of their food into more of their rich people potted plants," she suggested. "Just saying."

"Hm," Erik considered. She kinda had a point there. "I'll think about it," he conceded. "When exams are over." He jerked his head in the direction of the till, to point out a customer waiting.

Angel whooped, hands in the air. "Old man's gonna partyyyy!"

Erik rolled his eyes. "Sorry!" he called out to the customer with a plastered-on grin. "We don't know what's wrong with her." The customer looked bewildered. Angel smiled.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

Two weeks later

"Here you go," Erik handed Armando a soda as he slid into the opposite side of the booth. He was exhausted but happy, several hours since his final 'pens down' of his finals. They were treating themselves to dinner at their favourite dingy but surprisingly delicious pizza place not far from the school.

"Another year down!" Armando cheered, grabbing his drink with one hand, as he rubbed his close-cropped hair with the other. "We survived."

Erik laughed. "Imagine that, if second-year biophysics was the one thing you couldn't adapt to."

"Well they had me in the first half, not gonna lie," Armando chuckled. "You ready for your relaxing summer plans?" Erik snorted in response. Armando knew he'd be busy with his family and whatever odd-jobs his mother had lined up for him around the place. He was in a similar situation, awaiting the prospect of working unpaid in his parent's store.

"At least you have someone you're looking forward to spending time with," Erik added, without too much jealousy.

Armando grinned. "Yeah, it softens the blow," he admitted. His girlfriend was a freshman at Cornell, studying pre-law, and they'd been hanging out to see each other for months. They knew things were only going to get more hectic as they both progressed in their study; soon even their breaks would be filled with internships and research. "You're still not interested in anybody?"

Erik rubbed at a congealed sauce stain on the plastic tabletop with his napkin.

"Nah," he said, looking at the the bits of napkin now stuck to the sauce instead of cleaning it. "Too busy—" He began his usual spiel. It was getting repetitive, even to his ears.

"Mm, sure," Armando cut in, amused. "We're all busy. But I've seen you chilling out in the room enough times, or taking on extra shifts, you can't spare a few minutes?" he teased.

"I'm not gonna say no to the extra money," Erik argued. "And anyway—"

He was gratefully interrupted by the delivery of their pizza to the booth. They both munched happily, in silence, for a few minutes.

"And anyway?" Armando prompted, wiping his hands, and then immediately reaching for another slice.

Erik groaned inwardly. "It's not like I've been… celibate," he muttered. Armando raised his eyebrows. "What?" Erik protested. "I haven't!"

Armando looked thoughtful. "Wasn't the last time that woman from the University Life event when her roommate walked in on—"

"Yes, well, can you blame me?" Erik muttered. "I'm traumatised." He poked at a piece of leftover crust.

Armando laughed. "Five months is probably enough time?" he questioned, sipping his drink.

"I get enough of this from my family," Erik complained.

Armando held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, I'll stop," he conceded. "Just don't… don't forget to enjoy yourself sometimes too?" They both laughed. "Not like that." Armando said, making a face. "I mean, by all means, but that's not what I meant."

"Yeah, not without a sock on the door," Erik joked. "Nah, I got it, thanks." He sighed and stabbed his straw at the melting ice in his cup. He really couldn't escape it from anyone. Maybe it wouldn't be so terrible to let loose every once in a while, he thought. What was it his idiot first year roommate had always said? You only live once?

"So, you in for tomorrow, Lehnsherr?" Alex grinned at Erik as he tied his apron on over his t-shirt and jeans, for his last shift before the summer break.

Erik huffed out a laugh. "Maybe," he replied, with a shrug. "We'll see."

Alex chuckled. "Don't try to tell me you have plans," he joked. "We all know you don't, and you've known about the party for weeks now."

"And you already agreed to come," Angel butted in, slipping past them with a stack of dirty plates.

"Uh no," Erik protested. "I said I'd think about it, if I remember correctly."

Angel set the plates down and shrugged. "Basically the same."

"It's really not…" Erik began, but it felt like a losing battle as Alex and Angel ignored him and high-fived. He rolled his eyes and started reorganising his work space, correcting the nonsensical arrangement the previous barista had set up. The cafe was already quieter than it had been in the previous few weeks, the crowds of exam-stressed students dwindling as they headed off for the break. Erik's sense of relaxation from finishing his studies for now had already faded somewhat — he felt keyed up about nothing in particular as he considered the weeks ahead of him. I probably do need a drink, he mused. It would likely be his last chance to do so before he was back for fall semester.

He barely glanced up as he heard the door to the cafe open, figuring he'd find out what they ordered soon enough. He eyed the ground coffee canister critically, figuring it'd last him about an hour more before he'd need new beans.

"Hey guys!" Alex called out, sweeping past him and walking out from behind the counter. Erik watched him engage in some complicated dude-bro handshake with one of the people that had just walked in. He had longish red hair, sticking out in several directions, and sleepy eyes. Erik realised belatedly that he recognised him, possibly from visiting the cafe before. He was one of Alex's friends but he couldn't remember what he was studying. He remembered that he was a freshman, and a fellow mutant, something to do with sonic waves, and he was the go to for certain… substances, that Alex had suggested Erik try more than once or twice to 'get the stick out of his ass'. Erik's gaze passed over him to the other guy he'd come in with, then stopped short. He'd definitely never seen him before.

The guy chatting with Alex and his friend was the prettiest person Erik had ever seen. He was slightly shorter than his companions and had dark brown hair, which seemed to be growing out of its last haircut and curling slightly around his ears. He was dressed on the preppy side, his shirt collar poking out of a light sweater, navy pants and proper shoes. He was in clear contrast to the other students, with their ripped jeans and dirty sneakers. But it was his face that made the biggest impression on Erik. He had pale skin, which only made the blue of his eyes more luminous, and highlighted the impossible red of his lips. His strong nose gave a hint of masculinity to his features that only improved them. While Erik watched, he smiled at something Alex was saying, and a light blush painted his cheeks pink. Erik drew a quick breath, somehow caught by surprise that somebody who looked like that could actually exist, let alone be standing only a few feet away.

Erik had know for a while that he wasn't just attracted to women. Bisexual, he supposed, or pansexual — although for a mutant with an affinity for metal, that phrasing seemed to invite too many poorly conceived jokes. So he was attracted to a lot of people, he just didn't do much about it. He'd had crushes on some of his male school teachers, heartbeat becoming rapid as they leaned over his desk to get a closer look at his work. He'd easily admired some of the celebrities that Ruth and her friends would fawn over, unlike his peers, who could only jeer at them in order to assert their straightness. And he couldn't deny his porn site search history which equally included the more masculine side of things. He'd even kissed a boy, once, as a teenager. They'd been on a camping trip, and gotten swept up in the moment, around the camp-fire. But then they'd gone to sleep, separately, and never mentioned it again. It was something about himself that he wasn't ashamed of, just saw as mostly unnecessary to bring up to anyone. He couldn't imagine anyone he knew would have a problem with it; he didn't associate with bigots. He just liked women too, so he could easily pass for straight, and it made sense to take the simpler route for now, to do what was expected of him and what would lead to the future he thought he wanted. It wasn't like he'd ever been a prolific dater anyway, only sleeping with a handful of girls, nothing too serious. It hit him with quite a shock to be affected by someone so much, at first sight, of any gender.

Suddenly, those blue eyes were shining in his direction, and Erik quickly glanced down, ears burning. He realised he'd been basically staring, and he hurried to busy himself with something work related. After a few seconds he chanced a look back, and let out a small sigh of relief as the three continued their conversation as before. On second consideration, the brunette looked incredibly young in comparison to the others, and Erik felt even more like a creep. He can't be that much younger, he consoled himself. He's at college after all. He was glad to be distracted by Angel asking him for assistance with reaching a box, and swallowed any embarrassment at his train of thought. Looking like that, he's probably one of those trust fund kids you hate, he told himself, without much conviction.

After a few minutes, Alex's friends sat down and Alex came back behind the till. He punched an order into the till, and handed Erik the receipt. "You deal with the coffee, I'll make the tea," he directed. Tea, Erik thought curiously. Well, it could be worse. "You remember Sean, right?" Alex added, as he scooped some tea leaves into a strainer. "He'll be there tomorrow, too." Erik nodded in acknowledgement. He paused, reaching for the carton of milk.

"Who's the other guy?" he asked, in a tone he hoped was casual.

"Hm? Oh, that's his roommate, Charles," Alex answered, thankfully seemingly oblivious to any hint of ulterior motive. "He's from England innit!" he said, in a truly heinous approximation of the accent. Charles, Erik thought. It suits him. The air filled with the sound of the steam wand, as he focused on the task in front of him. When he was done, Alex grabbed the drinks and headed over to his friends again.

No new customers had come in since then, and Angel yawned, finished with her job of napkin refilling. "It's so dead in here," she grumbled, pulling out her phone. "This shift is gonna drag."

"You hate it when we're slammed too, though," Erik pointed out. He was wondering if Sean would have invited Charles to the party. He didn’t look like he frequented random college parties, to be fair, but if they were close enough to hang out…

Angel made a face at him. "It's almost like work sucks, no matter what."

"Mm," Erik replied absentmindedly. He brushed some coffee grounds off his apron. He wondered if he looked okay in this t-shirt. It was plain, and black, and a little tight, but Angel had praised it in the past.

"The tighter the tops, the bigger the tips," she'd laughed, looking proud of herself. Erik had rolled his eyes at the time. He probably didn't even notice you, he chided himself. Stop being so weird. He just couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this, like he cared what someone else might be thinking about him, what impression he might give off.

"You okay?" Angel cut in, waving her hand in front of his face. "You look like you have indigestion or something." Perfect, Erik thought.

"I'm fine," he replied shortly.

She shrugged. "Ooh can you make me that cinnamon orange thingy you do?" she exclaimed, looking at him beseechingly, like she hadn't been judging him five seconds prior. "No one's here, and I'm gonna die without caffeine tonight."

"Sure," he sighed, actually grateful for the distraction. She clapped her hands and he turned back to the coffee machine.

By the time he'd finished with Angel's drink and she was reaching for it with grabby hands, Alex, Sean, and Charles were getting up from their table. Erik looked at his shoes as they walked closer to the counter, suddenly feeling awkward about the way he was standing. What's a normal thing to do with your hands? he suddenly panicked.

"See you guys tomorrow!" Alex called out, somehow right next to him now. He nudged Erik in the ribs. "Even this asshole is going, right?" he grinned.

Erik snapped his head up in annoyance, but was met with a hopeful blue gaze awaiting his answer. The comeback died on his lips.

"Uh, y-yeah," he stuttered, then coughed a little. Alex cheered. "I'll be there."

The cherry red mouth eased into a shy smile. Erik took another breath, feeling pinned in place by those dazzling eyes focused on him. He absently noticed that his face was dusted with freckles.

"Did you make my tea?" Charles asked, in a well-spoken and pleasantly accented voice. "It was lovely." Erik felt like his brain was short-circuiting as those perfect lips folded around the words.

"No," he blurted out.

"Oh." Charles blinked. "Sorry."

"We'd better head off," Sean piped up. "See ya!" Charles ducked his head briefly, looking embarrassed, and then, with a wave, they were leaving.

Erik didn't move.

"What the fuck was that!" Alex snorted, looking at Erik like he'd sprouted an extra head. "Did you see that shit?" he asked Angel.

Angel was laughing behind her hand. "What the hell, Erik?" She squinted to look closer at his face.

"What?" Erik demanded gruffly, feeling like his head was finally clearing. Oh no, he thought. What did I just—

"I have never seen you like that!" Alex exclaimed. "You went all weird." Erik felt his whole face heating up.

Angel was laughing openly now. "I knew you didn't like flirting, but that was brutal."

Alex shook his head. "You were staring. I didn't know if you wanted to kill him, or eat him."

"Shut the fuck up," Erik mumbled, turning away and running his hand through his hair, his face getting even redder. "I didn't—"

"Oh. My. God," Angel shrieked. "You like him!"

"Fuck." Alex looked shocked. "That's even worse somehow? And… unexpected."

"You are not good at this," Angel agreed. "But I think this explains a lot, to be honest."

"What?" Erik protested loudly. "No it doesn't. And I didn't do anything."

"You were scary," Alex helpfully supplied.

"And kinda rude," Angel added.

Fuck. Erik's face fell. He'd just been taken by surprise, he hadn't meant to—

Angel looked ecstatic. "Tomorrow night is gonna be so good," she cackled.

"You need a wing-man?" Alex offered. "I'm a good wing-man."

This was hell. Erik was in hell.

Chapter Text

Charles tugged on his collar as he followed Sean into the cafe. It was slightly stuffy inside, and he was regretting wearing his jumper. He'd never been here before, even though it was a convenient location, preferring to bring his own thermos of tea and hole up in the library, or find a quiet study spot outside. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it, but paying someone nearly five dollars to put a tea bag in some hot water for him just seemed silly. Plus, if a place like this was busy, he could end up with a headache from shielding all the buzzing minds for an extended period of time. Today, however, he'd run into Sean while walking back to their dorm, and he'd talked him into a quick stop before they headed home. Apparently he knew someone who worked there, and he'd wanted to see him briefly before the weekend.

Charles had pretty readily agreed. He hadn't made many friends on campus in his first year, determined to start his degree off well and studying diligently. He was in a slightly awkward position too, technically a freshman but taking sophomore classes due to advanced standing from high school. It meant he was younger than most of his cohort, and out of step with the other first years in his dorm. It wasn't surprising to him — after his experiences of isolation and rejection at school he was used to sticking to himself and keeping his head down. But he'd slowly become some type of friends with his roommate over the year, and had been delighted to find out he was a mutant too. He had finally felt safe enough with him to admit to being a telepath, and Sean's enthusiasm around other mutants he knew on campus had made Charles tentatively hopeful that he would meet more people like them.

Sean's friend greeted them quickly after they walked in, introducing himself as Alex. Charles remembered Sean mentioning him, and describing how cool his mutation was, before admitting that its dangerous nature had caused problems for him in the past.

"He's doing good now though," he'd insisted. Charles wondered how many mutants had been through the same kind of experiences in early adolescence, no matter how their powers and gifts varied. It gave him more motivation to pursue his study and career goals. He was completing an undergraduate degree in biology, hoping to eventually focus in on genetics, and expand the area of research around the 'X-gene'. If he could understand it better, maybe he could eventually improve the lives of fellow mutants, and decrease the fear and discrimination they still faced. If it simultaneously helped him get out from an obligation to take a bigger role at Xavier Corp. with his stepfather, so much the better.

Charles zoned out a bit as Sean and Alex chatted, feeling content in the quiet and pleasant atmosphere of the mostly empty cafe. His mind drifted to his plans for the upcoming break. He'd signed up for some summer classes, and he hoped to get a head start on a research project too. He was staying on campus — despite his little sister's complaints he didn't think he could handle heading back home for several weeks. He wasn't that far from Westchester, so they could still catch up and he could take her shopping in the city, or go to the movies. Raven wasn't having the greatest time at high-school either, but she'd never been one for studying. She was more interested in fashion and make-up, hanging out for the chance to finish school and move on with her life. Her ability to shape shift had led to her projecting a pretty outward facade, so she was accepted and could blend into the crowd. As long as she didn't slip up. But he sensed underlying frustration and self-loathing all the same. Of course, she didn't allow him to look in her head these days, but some feelings were strong enough to seep through.

Suddenly, Charles felt the eerie, creeping feeling that someone was watching him. He shook himself out of his thoughts, and cast his eye around the room. He felt his breath hitch. Standing behind the counter, eyes boring into him, was the most gorgeous man Charles had ever seen in person. Charles' mouth dropped open a little, feeling his face grow warm under the intensity of his stare. The man seemed to suddenly realise he was looking back, and glanced away. Charles nearly giggled out loud, feeling slightly giddy. What was that? he mused, trying to look like he was listening to the conversation around him. He was sorely tempted to dip into the man's mind and glean some sense of what he was thinking, but he held himself back. He clearly worked here, and was wearing an apron tied tightly around what was a frankly a ridiculously tiny waist. He was tall and lean, with short reddish-brown hair, and faint ginger stubble. Charles felt his heartbeat start to pick up. He couldn't tell what colour his eyes were under this light, but they seemed to be some mix between grey and green, and surprisingly serious. He was incredibly hot. But there was something about him, an edge, a tension, like a coiled spring. It gave him a faintly dangerous air. Charles shivered.

Charles' thoughts were interrupted as Alex ushered them to a table and asked for their drink orders.

"It's on me," he offered generously. Charles thanked him, and was pleased to note that the menu listed several loose-leaf varieties of tea. As Alex headed back behind the counter, Charles snuck another quick glance at the mysterious man. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt that highlighted his shoulder and arm muscles, and as he turned, Charles got a glimpse of his broad back, and slim ass and legs in a pair of fitted jeans.

"…don't you think?" Sean asked, catching his eye. Charles blushed. He had no idea what he was talking about. He quickly skimmed the surface of Sean's mind for his current thoughts, feeling terribly guilty on all accounts. He'd just been talking about the music, Charles saw with relief, putting his shields back in place as he agreed in vague terms.

Alex came back quickly with the drinks, and Charles took a grateful sip of his earl grey. Not too bad, he thought. As Alex and Sean discussed the upcoming party he'd been convinced to attend, he took another quick look behind the counter. He felt a twinge of jealousy as he noticed that the beautiful woman who had been restocking tables was now chatting comfortably with the man. Don't be ridiculous, he scolded himself. There was no reason to be jealous, he didn't even know his name. He could have been staring for any number of reasons. Charles quickly checked his reflection in the blank screen of his phone, looking for any stray detritus that might be attracting attention. Satisfied to find no likely culprit, Charles took one last glance behind the counter, before he went back to savouring his tea. The man was now standing behind the espresso machine, but it didn't look like he was making contact with the portafilter or the milk jugs, yet they were still moving. Charles' eyes widened slightly. Some kind of telekinesis? he thought excitedly. Maybe he's a mutant too.

"Everything okay?" Alex was asking him, eyebrow raised.

"Oh, yes!" Charles hastened to reply. "The tea is very nice."

"That's good," Alex laughed. "Not many people order it." Charles smiled back, and gulped the rest down. Sean was finished with his coffee too.

"Ready to go?" he asked Charles. "Sorry for making you wait."

Charles shook his head. "Not at all," he replied. "Ready when you are." He suddenly felt a little bit shaky as they stood up and started making their way toward the exit, via the counter. But Charles was disappointed to see that the man was looking down as they approached, and Alex slid in beside him. However, it gave him a chance to look at his name tag without seeming like a creep. Erik, he mused. Why was it so much sexier with a k?

"See you guys tomorrow!" Alex called out to them. Then he grinned, and nudged the Erik, playfully. "Even this asshole is going, right?" he said, looking questioningly at him. Erik looked up suddenly like he was coming out of a daze. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then shut it again. He was looking right at Charles again. Charles swallowed, caught up in his gaze. They are grey, he thought.

"Yeah," Erik answered gruffly. Charles wasn't sure if he seemed happy about it. Alex made a whooping noise. "I'll be there." Charles couldn't keep himself from smiling. His heart started beating faster again. Say something, he encouraged himself. Say… anything. Just don't leave like this. Maybe he'd get some indication of what Erik had been thinking about when he looked at him.

"Did you make my tea?" Charles asked in a rush. He felt his face redden as his voice came out higher than he expected. He tried again. "It was lovely." Urgh, he thought. That was the best you could come up with? It's not even difficult to make tea. It probably seems condescending to have mentioned it.

Erik stared back at him. "No," he said blankly.

Charles' entire body flooded with embarrassment.

"Oh," he choked out. Oh my god, what are you doing, he yelled internally. See, he doesn't want to talk to you! "Sorry," he added weakly.

"We'd better head off," Sean said behind him. Charles was filled with relief. Sean, his saviour. He nodded quickly and turned to shuffle out the door. "See ya!" Sean yelled as the door shut behind them.

Charles took a deep breath of the fresh air as they stepped outside, grateful for the cooler temperature on his face. He wondered if there was any way Sean hadn't noticed that disastrous interaction.

"Erik's crazy intense, hey," Sean laughed. "What a weird guy."

Of course not, Charles groaned inwardly. "I don't know," he said weakly. "I think I just annoyed him somehow." Erik, his brain repeated. Erik.

"Nah, man," said Sean. "From what Alex says? If he was annoyed, you would've known."

Charles wasn't sure if that was good or bad news.

~

Later that night, as he got ready to sleep, Charles rolled his eyes at a new message from Raven. He'd told her he was going to a party tomorrow, and she'd replied with far too much enthusiasm. She was acting as if he never socialised, which wasn't true. He'd gone to a few events at the beginning of his first year. He just hadn't enjoyed them very much, and hadn't felt particularly inclined to repeat the experience. It concerned him that his little sister was so worried about him, though. She had enough to deal with, at school and with their family. He was the eldest, he should be worrying about her, not the other way around. Especially as, now he was out from under the thumb of his mother and stepfather, he was doing better than ever. But now she was on at him about his wardrobe.

He scoffed. He wasn't going to wear a cardigan to a party.

This time.

His phone pinged again.

Raven

What r u going to wear?

NO CARDIGANS

r u gonna kiss a cute boy?

Charles sighed.

Raven

What r u going to wear?

NO CARDIGANS

r u gonna kiss a cute boy? GOODNIGHT RAVEN

he sent back, and plugged his phone in to charge overnight.

He pulled his sheet up over himself and turned on his side. God, if only, he thought.

Charles had known he was gay for a long time. Since he could remember being interested in anyone, really. Since he'd had a crush on Disney's Aladdin. His mutation had manifested earlier for him than most, when he was only ten years old. After the months it too for him to realise that he was not, in fact, losing his mind, but hearing the thoughts from other people's, his access to an overwhelming amount of feelings and fantasies and experiences increased exponentially. It had forced him to grow up a lot faster than anyone else he knew, and the process hadn't been without damage. Becoming adept at shielding became his highest priority, and not just for his own sake. But another thing it had done was to make it incredibly clear to him the vast range of sexual interests that existed, and which ones he wanted to stay far away from. On the more innocent side of the spectrum, he hadn’t needed to experiment with girls his age in order to know it wasn't for him. His all-boys boarding school in the UK hadn't provided many opportunities for that, of course. Unfortunately it also hadn't provided many opportunities at all, for Charles. He'd never been popular with kids his age, even before the emergence of his telepathy torpedoed any chance at a normal social experience. And from then, his reputation as nerdy, strange, and a 'know it all' only grew.

Crush after hopeless crush went unrequited, until Charles figured that he would be better off withdrawing into his own world, keeping himself busy with his interests and his studies, working towards his goals. He wasn't ashamed of who he was in the least. He was proud in fact, of being gay. Even of being a mutant, despite all the trouble it had caused him. But even when he had picked up on other guys' interest in him it was almost always unwanted, totally inappropriate, or waned quickly the more time they spent together. It wasn't something he was delighted to admit, but he had ended his first year of college still a virgin. He wasn't completely inexperienced. He'd managed to make out with a few fellow students while at school (even if for some of them it was under the guise of 'practice' for whenever they actually got a girlfriend). He'd even deeply upset his mother a few months before coming to Columbia by being caught kissing a member of their grounds staff. Though his stepfather wasn't above a homophobic jab or two, his mother had mostly been appalled that he'd stooped to someone on the payroll. Since then, nothing. He could admit he hadn't being trying very hard to meet people. But he was out of the small pool of his childhood acquaintances now, and he was much better at controlling his powers. Surely even he could hook up with someone at a college party like everyone else? Maybe I just need to stop going after impossible guys, he thought, trying to bury his head in his pillow. Guys who are out of your league and will never be interested in you. Guys like Erik.

The library smelled the same way it always did, and Charles took a calming breath. It was even quieter than usual too, and he knew he'd made the right decision to do some planning there this morning, to take his mind off tonight. He found a comfortable spot at a large table near a window and started to settle in, starting his laptop and pulling out a notebook and pen. With the extra classes and his advanced standing, he'd be able to finish his degree in three years instead of the usual four. Then he'd be able to look into postgraduate programs at the age of twenty, and start properly progressing towards a research position. He felt energised at the thought. While his mind drifted a little, imagining his own lab space, he was surprised to see someone standing nearby in his peripheral vision. He turned.

"Hi, there," said a pretty brunette tentatively, with a small wave. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't think of where he might know her. "Sorry to interrupt. You're Charles, right?"

He nodded. She was likely a fellow student — she looked about his age and was carrying a laptop bag.

"Did we have a class together?" Charles asked, running through his memories quickly.

She chuckled. "Two, actually." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Moira."

"Yes, of course!" Charles replied, embarrassed, shaking her hand. "Sorry. I get very focused, depending on the subject, and I can sort of drown everything out…"

She waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Don't worry!" she said. "I noticed. You're actually a bit notorious for that, among some of the other students."

Oh no, Charles thought in dismay.

"Do you mind if I sit?" Moira asked, pointing to the empty chair across from him.

"Oh, not at all!" he replied.

She took a seat, placing her bag on top of the table. "So, you're some kind of genius, right?" she asked, with a smile.

Charles blushed. "Uh, no, not really," he said nervously. "I have a really good memory, I suppose, and I like to study…"

She laughed. "Yet, you couldn't remember who I was?"

Charles felt himself turn redder. "Uh, well—"

"It's fine!" she chuckled. "I'm just teasing."

To hide his embarrassment, Charles cast about for a change of subject.

"Are you majoring in biology too?" he asked. She was, and they ending up chatting more, about the summer classes they were planning on taking, and their future ambitions. She was easy to talk to, smart and practical, but with a good sense of humour too. I should have talked to her sooner, Charles thought, with a pang of regret. Who knows what other opportunities I've been missing to connect with people too.

After a while, Moira glanced at her watch and seemed surprised by the time. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I've probably distracted you long enough."

"Oh it's fine!" Charles responded emphatically. Then he sighed. "I was really here to try and distract myself anyway, so you've actually helped a great deal."

She gave him a sympathetic look. "Oh dear," she began. "What are you trying to avoid?" Charles felt embarrassed again.

"It's nothing really," he replied. "It's stupid." She raised an eyebrow. He sighed again. "I just got invited to this party…" He trailed off, but she looked at him expectantly. "Actually," he said, inspired. "Why don’t you come? Are you free tonight?" She laughed.

"Sorry, I've got plans," she replied. He nodded despondently. "So sadly I can't make this party you seem not to want to go to. Why don't you just not go either?"

He grimaced. "Well… there's this guy…" he trailed off again and fidgeted with his pen, accidentally getting ink on one of his fingers. He put the pen down and started rubbing at the stain with irritation.

"Ah, I see," she nodded. "He's worth it then?"

Charles groaned. "I have no idea. He might hate me, actually."

"Sounds complicated," she chuckled. Not really, Charles thought. It's probably the same story as with every other guy I've ever liked. She grabbed his pen and scribbled something on the top of his notebook. "Here's my number," she said. "Let me know how it goes. If it's terrible, we can… I don't know, get ice-cream, and talk about chromosomal abnormalities, or something."

Charles laughed, surprised. It was honestly one of the nicest things anyone, outside of his sister, had ever said to him.

"Thank you," he said, with genuine feeling.

"Good luck, Charles!" she replied, with a grin and a wave, and left him to his thoughts again.

Charles fiddled with his button-down shirt and then looked nervously at his watch.

"Shouldn't we be heading off soon?" he asked Sean. "Didn't it start a while ago?" Sean laughed.

"Chill out, man! " He certainly looked relaxed, stretched out on his bed and tapping on his phone. Charles could hear the buzz of music escaping his cheap headphones.

"Isn't it a bit… rude?" Charles worried, pacing. "To be so late?"

Sean cracked up, pulling off the headset. "Dude…" he began. "Are you sure you don't need something before we go? You're a little… uptight."

"No," Charles replied crossly. With a groan, he kicked off his shoes and flopped down onto his bed. He shut his eyes. "Just tell me when we're leaving."

~

By the time they arrived at the apartment it was packed, sweaty bodies moving together, or piled on every available surface, music blasting from the speakers. Charles lost sight of Sean almost immediately. Passing some teenagers dancing in the cleared living room space, he attempted a little bop to the music. Okay, maybe I do need a little help, he thought. He smiled at a group of people as he sidled past them to get closer to a table covered in red cups that he hoped contained alcohol of some kind. He was used to drinking, sneaking gulps of his stepfather's scotch, or swallowing abandoned flutes of champagne to get through his mother's events. Sharon hadn't stopped him from drinking red wine with his dinner on occasion either, not being known for her hands-on approach to parenting. He grabbed a cup, and drank gratefully, before grimacing. Whatever it was, it tasted terrible. Still, he swallowed the rest as quickly as possible, and went in for a second cup.

Now, on his way to catching up with the people around him in terms of inebriation, he leaned against the wall and surveyed the room as best he could. He didn't recognise many people, and a fair few of them seemed substantially older, and universally cooler than him. As someone bumped into his shoulder, he picked up the stray thought — who invited high schoolers here? He sighed. Craning his neck, he caught sight of Sean's red hair across the room. He was gathered with some others in the corner. Charles thought he could see Alex too, but he didn't recognise Erik among them. He felt a small twinge of disappointment. The music throbbed in his head, and whatever he had drunk earlier was starting to effect him a bit. He could feel his shields beginning to struggle in the crowded apartment, and tried to shore them up quickly, to keep himself from absorbing the drunkenness in the room. Catching sight of a sliding door leading to a balcony, he made a beeline for it.

He breathed in the fresh air greedily as stepped out of the stuffy apartment. It was still semi-crowded, but at least his head stopped spinning quite as much. He moved out of the way as a couple squeezed past him to get back in the door, and started to make his way to a corner, out of everyone's path. As he inched around another small group of people, nearly at his destination, he saw that the corner was already occupied. There, dressed entirely in black, smoking a cigarette, and looking like he'd rather be anywhere else, was Erik.

Oh god, he looks so good, Charles brain helpfully supplied. Smoking really shouldn't be that hot. He tried to think fast. What's the worst that could happen? He looks at you like you're a bug and leaves? He gulped. Actually that would be awful— Suddenly his eyes widened in amazement as he watched Erik stub out his cigarette while with his other hand he summoned a bottle of beer and twisted off the cap without touching it.

Charles gasped. "Oh wow," he blurted out. "That is such a groovy mutation."

Erik towards him, looking shocked. "Oh…" he said. "You…"

"Is it telekinesis?" Charles continued, unable to hide his enthusiasm. "I thought it might be, at the cafe. Your control, it's pretty incredible."

"Er, no." Erik shook his head. He still looked like a deer in the headlights.

Goddammit, Charles cursed inwardly. Again? Does he know any other words? There was a pause. Maybe it's just me, thought Charles miserably. A secondary mutation, perhaps. Really helpful for warding off attractive men—

"It's uh, metallokinesis?" Erik's voice broke into his panic spiral. "I can manipulate metal, it's something to do with magnetic fields, but I haven't really explored it completely."

"Oh," Charles perked up. "That's really, really cool." Erik still looked guarded, but at least he didn't seem like he was going to run away anymore. "I'm a mutant too, actually," Charles offered. "I know Sean and Alex are too, it's really interesting—"

"You are?" Erik's eyes lit up, and then he reddened. "Sorry—"

"Oh it's fine!" Charles jumped in hurriedly, moving a bit closer towards him. "Yes, I'm, um, a telepath actually." He braced himself. The reaction to that disclosure was often worse than the initial mutant hurdle.

"Oh no," whispered Erik. "I swear, I—"

"I haven't been reading your mind," Charles jumped in. "I promise. I don't, I wouldn't do that without someone's permission. Privacy is very important. Just, just so you know."

"Oh, that's… good," Erik said faintly. Charles laughed awkwardly.

"Why?" Charles attempted a teasing tone. "What on earth were you thinking?"

Erik went red again. "Nothing," he said shortly. "Uh, nothing interesting. I… would you like a beer?" he asked desperately. Charles nodded, and was delighted to receive it in the same way that Erik had picked his up before.

"It really is amazing," Charles marvelled as the bottle landed in his hand, and was rewarded with the first smile he'd ever seen from Erik. Erik raised his bottle towards Charles, and Charles clinked it with his, grinning. They each took a drink, the noise of the party filling the silence between them.

"I wonder what the extent of your powers are," Charles mused. "Magnetic fields… there are so many applications…" He shook his head, embarrassed. "Sorry. I get a bit… intense about this topic. It's why I'm studying genetics. But I'm told I can be very boring once I get started on the subject." He chuckled self-deprecatingly.

Erik shook his head. "It's not boring," he said decisively. "I chose my major because of my mutation too." From there, their conversation began to flow easily. Charles finally felt himself relax a little, as they continued to drink beer and talk about their studies. Charles learnt that Erik was the only mutant in his family, and Charles told him about his sister, and her incredible power. Erik shared how he was born in Germany, but started school here, and lived with his mother in Queens, and Charles talked about boarding school in England, and his family's house in Westchester. Even though Erik paused briefly at that fact, with an unreadable expression, he seemed to get less tense as they continued their conversation. Charles was starting to feel giddy. He almost couldn't believe that they were here together, talking like this. Erik also seemed really interested in his telepathy, at least now he'd realised Charles wasn't automatically reading his mind. Charles couldn't remember the last time someone was actually interested in his mutation beyond that point. When he glanced at his watch he was surprised how much time had actually passed. Erik was evidently not as scary as the impression he'd gotten at the cafe. And also from Sean. Maybe it's just his face, Charles thought. His ridiculously handsome—

"There you are!" Alex yelled, making his way across the balcony. He walked up to Erik and patted him on the shoulder. Then he squinted and he seemed to finally notice Charles. "You found him!" he exclaimed. "Happy now?" Erik glared at him.

"Hm, what..?" Charles began looking from one to the other. Erik shook his head.

"You guys should come inside," Alex said enthusiastically. "Someone started beer pong and—"

"We're good thanks," Erik interrupted. Then he turned to Charles. "Sorry, unless you wanted…" he said with a tinge of guilt.

"Oh no," Charles replied hurriedly. "I'm happy to stay here."

Alex raised his eyebrows. "Oka-ay," he said. "Have fun then." He looked at Erik and winked in an over-exaggerated manner.

"Please go," Erik muttered. Alex raised his hands in surrender and backed away, laughing, before turning and heading inside again.

Charles chuckled. "You guys are good friends?"

"No," Erik gritted out, and took a swig of beer. Charles was slightly confused but decided to let it slide.

"You're not really a party person?" Charles asked, rather belatedly.

Erik cracked a smile. "What gave it away?"

Charles laughed. "Me either. Obviously." He took another gulp of beer. "I guess, I'm just surprised that you're not."

Erik's brow creased. "Why?"

Charles felt silly. "I don't know you, you're just all… cool, and…" He waved vaguely at Erik. "Really hot, and…" He trailed off. Oh fuck.

Erik's eyes widened. Then he smirked. "You think I'm—"

"Oh come on," Charles cut in awkwardly. "You must hear it all the time." He felt his face heating up.

Suddenly there were interrupted by a huge crash from inside the apartment, followed by the sound of people whooping. Charles winced. He'd been distracted enough to not really notice, but the increase in noise made him aware of a steadily growing headache behind his eyes. He rubbed his temples to try and ease it.

"Are you okay?" Erik asked, looking at him with concern.

"It's fine," Charles replied quickly. "It's just the crowds, and the noise, and all the minds… it gets a bit…" He waved his hand wildly, implying chaos.

Erik nodded. "It is that. Even for a non-telepath," Erik agreed. "Do you want to leave?" he asked.

"Oh, no," Charles protested. "I'm having fun, it's fine." Despite the pain, now that he had it, he was determined not to waste the opportunity to spend more time with Erik. Even if he was embarrassing himself. Maybe they could get back to talking about mutations.

"Really?" Erik asked with a sceptical tone.

"Of course, I'm enjoying talking to you," Charles argued. "It's been… really nice."

"Oh," Erik replied. "I mean, yes." He took a breath. "But would you… do you want to…" Charles tilted his head questioningly. He was feeling a bit fuzzy, maybe his shields had weakened again.

"Do you want to… get out of here?" Erik asked tentatively. "Er… together?" He looked shy, which completely changed his face, making him look younger. Charles thought his heart might leap out of his chest.

"Oh," he said. "Yes." Erik looked relieved for a second, and then almost immediately afraid. "That would be nice," Charles added. Stop saying 'nice'! he yelled at himself.

"Great," Erik said, with a swallow. "Let's uh, let's head out then."

Charles nodded. "Let's go," he agreed.

Chapter Text

Erik took a deep breath as they started making their way through the apartment. He couldn't believe this was happening. He'd been totally disappointed and bored, and then Charles had walked right up to him. It was the best time he'd ever had at a party. And now they were leaving, together. He was still shocked he'd been bold enough to ask, probably helped by the alcohol. Somebody bumped into Charles ahead of him, and Erik automatically reached out to touch his shoulder gently.

"Are you okay?" he leaned in to ask into his ear. Charles jumped slightly, then turned and nodded with a smile. Erik resisted the urge to put his arm around him to shield him the rest of the way.

"Do you want to say goodbye to your friends?" Charles raised his voice to be heard amongst the din.

Erik shook his head decisively. He was actually feeling a little dizzy since they'd started walking, the alcohol catching up with him. Honestly, if they could just get out without—

"Erik!" Angel suddenly appeared beside them. "What are you—" She glanced at Charles. "Ohhh," she added approvingly.

"We're just leaving!" Erik shouted. "Goodbye!"

Angel squealed. Erik groaned. "Well done—" she started.

Erik shook his head vehemently. STOP IT, he mouthed. I WILL MURDER YOU. Angel and Charles were both looking at him, seemingly confused at what he was trying to do with his face. He gave up.

"Goodbye!" he yelled again, put his arm around Charles' shoulder anyway, and started walking them out.

Charles didn't seem to mind, and felt warm against him as they finally exited the apartment and made their way to the stairs.

"Sorry," Erik mumbled in case, letting go. "I just had to get out."

"It's alright," Charles said with a smile. "It's good to be out." He gestured for Erik to walk down ahead of him.

"How's your head?" Erik asked, trying to concentrate on each step in front of him. His head had felt better, if he was honest.

"A bit better already," Charles replied cheerfully, behind him. He sounded better.

"Good," Erik said, turning slightly around, and then narrowly preventing himself from tripping down the next step.

"Are you okay?" Charles giggled. Erik could feel his face flushing, but thankfully they'd reached the end of the stairs.

Once they'd reached the building exit, Erik realised he didn't have any plan about what to do now. Everything had happened so fast. Yesterday he had no idea who Charles was, and couldn't picture himself being interested in anybody.

"Uh, do you just want to go for a walk?" he suggested. "We're not far from campus, and then we can…" Figure out what to do next, he thought. "…er, keep talking?"

Luckily Charles agreed readily, and they started heading back. Erik was still feeling a bit unsteady, but the fresh air helped, and they weren't in a hurry. He was grateful he thought to ask Charles what he had planned for the summer, and he happily chattered about his classes most of the way back. Erik wasn't sure he was taking it all in, exactly, due to his brain feeling mushy and Charles' face being so distracting, but he was enjoying it anyway. He managed to explain that he'd be heading home until classes started again, which Charles seemed faintly disappointed about. By then, they had reached the benches outside of the library.

"Do you want to sit down for a minute?" Charles asked, peering at him closely. Erik nodded, and they took a seat, breathing in the quiet night air for a moment. Charles' eyes gleamed as he took in the scenery around them, the lights in the trees and the vast sky.

"It's so pretty here at night," he said. "When it's all quiet and empty."

"Your eyes are so pretty," Erik blurted out. Oh fuck, that was meant to sound smoother. "Sorry. That was—"

Charles let out a surprised laugh. "You really think so?" he asked shyly, looking over at Erik. Erik nodded, not trusting himself to say anything else at that point. Charles grinned. Erik's heart was pounding. He reached out and took hold of Charles' hand. His skin was smooth and soft, and cold in Erik's larger, warmer hand. Erik felt terribly nervous. It's not like you haven't done this before, idiot, he berated himself. It's not that different.

Charles squeezed his hand. "Erik," he began, scooting a little closer to him, "can I kiss you?" he breathed, eyes wide. Erik's stomach flipped. He nodded and moved in closer. Charles reached out and traced the side of Erik's face with his other hand. He looked like he couldn't believe Erik was real. Then he leaned in, and pressed their lips together. His lips were soft and yielded easily under Erik's. Erik couldn't resist deepening the kiss, applying more pressure as he slid his arm around Charles' waist. He felt warm all over. His breath hitched as he felt Charles brush his tongue tentatively against his lips. He opened his mouth to let him lick the rest of his way in, and their tongues tangled together, slow and wet. Charles tasted like cheap beer at the start, which slowly melted into something else, something indefinably Charles, and he couldn't get enough of him. Erik was shocked. Maybe it is different. Why is it so different?

After what felt like an age, and simultaneously not nearly long enough, Charles pulled back with a little gasp. Erik was worried for a moment, until Charles spoke.

"Um… do you want to…" Charles began nervously. "I don't think Sean will be back anytime soon, so we could go, uh, to our room. If you wanted?" He looked a little scared, but also hopeful. Erik nodded, and then quickly stood up, before his courage failed. His head spun violently, and he sat back down.

"Are you okay?" Charles asked worriedly.

Erik nodded again. "Just a bit… dizzy," he managed. Charles giggled.

"Me too," he agreed. "That was very…"

Erik didn't hear what he said next, as his stomach started churning in earnest. He felt bile starting to rise in his throat. Oh fuck, he thought. Right now? "Wait here," he demanded, standing up again, but it was basically too late. All he could do was turn over the side of the bench before his stomach betrayed him, narrowly avoiding his shoes. His ears rang as he coughed and then spat, vaguely aware of Charles making some kind of horrified noise in the background. Kill me now, he thought, still hunched over. Lightning bolt, sudden gaping chasm, whatever. Just make it quick.

"Oh no, Erik!" Charles exclaimed. "Are you alright? Do you need some water?"

Erik wasn't sure where he expected to get that from all of a sudden. He glanced across at the nearby fountain and felt his stomach protest again at the idea.

"Erik?" Charles put his hand gently on his shoulder. Erik wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grimaced.

"I'm fine," he said weakly. "I may have had too much to drink."

Charles made a sympathetic noise. "Do you want to go find a bathroom? I think my dorm is closer, I can get you some water too, and you can lie down."

Erik finally turned to look at him. "You don't have to do this," he muttered. "I'm so sorry—"

"Don't be silly," Charles said firmly. "Let's go. Can you walk okay?" Erik nodded, and Charles helped him up, wrapping his arm around Erik's waist as they walked slowly towards the student residences. Erik must have looked as miserable as he felt, because, after looking up at his face, Charles shook his head.

"Stop it," he said. "It's fine."

"It's not fine," Erik grumbled. "This must be the worst…" He was going to say 'date', but it could hardly even be counted as that, so he just trailed off. "You're barely affected at all," he said instead, a hint of accusation in his voice.

Charles laughed. "You were there before me, weren't you? How much do you usually drink, anyway?" he asked. Erik thought for a moment.

"Uh…"

"And do you usually smoke too? Or just at parties?" Charles raised his eyebrow.

"Mama doesn't like it," Erik answered pathetically, looking at his shoes. "She can always tell, too."

Charles shook his head, evidently amused. "We're nearly there," he announced. Erik lapsed into silence, too embarrassed to say anything else as Charles let them into the dorm and walked Erik to the bathrooms. "Will you be alright on your own?" Charles asked. "I'll get some water from my room."

Erik nodded and went to wash out his mouth and splash water on his face. He wished he could have a shower, but he didn't have anything he needed, and he'd probably end up falling asleep in there. Charles was already back with a bottle of water, which Erik accepted gratefully.

"Come on," Charles said. "You should lie down now." He took Erik's hand and led him to his room. Like a helpless child, Erik thought, filled with shame. He's probably never going to speak to me again after tonight. For now, Charles was urging him onto his bed, and removing his shoes. "Are you comfortable enough like that?" he asked, biting his lip. "I don't want to… anyway. Can I get you anything else?"

Erik shook his head sleepily. "I liked kissing you," he mumbled. Charles chuckled. The last thing Erik remembered was Charles covering him with a blanket, and pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead.

Erik awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and the sun shining into his eyes. He opened them a crack, and peered around the room. It was confusing and unfamiliar, which only served to make his head hurt more. His mouth felt dry and tasted absolutely disgusting. He grimaced. Then he caught sight of a figure curled up in the corner of the room, one leg splayed out from under a blanket. He rubbed his eyes.

"Charles?" he croaked out. He sat up, head spinning slightly. "Did you sleep on a beanbag?" The figure stirred. He could see tousled hair and sleepy blue eyes.

"Erik! How are you feeling?" Charles asked as he emerged from the blanket.

Erik winced. "Fine," he lied, looking around him. "Why am I on what I'm guessing is your bed, and you're on a beanbag?" He had a vague sense that things had not gone well.

"Oh," Charles chuckled, looking bashful. "You were sick and needed to lie down. I wasn't sure if Sean was coming back, so…" He looked across at Sean's bed. "I'm… not that sure I would have slept there anyway, to be honest."

Erik hummed in agreement. Sean's bed was a mess of sheets and clothes, and he even thought he could see crumbs on it. Doritos, maybe? He would have chosen the bean bag too. Charles stood up and stretched, and Erik caught a glimpse of a sliver of pale stomach as his t-shirt rode up.

Erik swallowed. Then he narrowed his eyes. "Are you wearing DNA themed pyjama pants?" he asked, with a smirk.

"Shut up," Charles retorted. "At least I'm not still in last night's clothes." Ugh, Erik thought, realising what he was wearing. No wonder he was so uncomfortable. "Do you want to borrow some shower stuff?" Charles asked. "You probably feel gross." Erik was offended for half a second, but he couldn't deny that it was true.

"It's okay," he replied. "I'll head back to my room now, and give you yours back." Suddenly he was flooded with embarrassment, as images from the night before flashed through his consciousness. He put his head in his hands for a moment, and then looked up apologetically. "Dammit, Charles, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to… ruin everything."

Charles shook his head. "It wasn't your fault. And I still had a good time. Until the vomit, obviously." Erik winced. "So, everything is fine," Charles proclaimed. "Unless you throwing up was related to the kiss in some way…" He laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it.

"Of course not," Erik grumbled. His ears felt hot. It had to be in the Top Ten Things you don't want to happen after you kiss someone. So, of course it happened with Charles. After everything had been going so well. Too good to be true, his brain supplied.

"Well, that's good." Charles was saying. He sounded relieved. "So… When did you say you were heading back home for the summer?

"Tomorrow," Erik sighed. He'd mostly been looking forward to it, really, but this morning it felt a little too soon. Charles looked disappointed too. "It's not really that far from campus though," Erik added. "If you think about it." He remembered his exhortations to Armando and his mother. 'Too busy,' he'd always said. Why did he feel differently, all of a sudden?

The smile reappeared on Charles' face.

"It isn't, is it," he replied. He looked so cute, in his dorky pyjamas, with his bed head and his shy grin.

Erik felt a pang in his chest and then a sudden feeling of panic. "Charles, how old are you?" The smile dissolved instantly into a frown.

"Oh, bloody hell, Erik. I'm eighteen. How old are you?" Now he was pouting in a way that made him seem even younger.

Erik suppressed a laugh. "Twenty," he answered. "I just remembered you were some sort of genius, okay? Accelerated progress, or whatever? So, just checking."

Charles narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, still pouting. "Well you didn't check before you kissed me."

Erik choked on his own spit. "You kissed me!" he protested, through a cough. "Anyway, I'm checking now, before—" He stopped abruptly.

"Before..?" Charles raised an eyebrow.

"Anything… else." Erik retorted.

"I see." Charles' grin was back.

Erik felt a throb of something, low in his stomach. You really need to get out of here, before he realises how bad you smell, his brain piped up.

"I have to go," he said reluctantly. "I need to pack up the rest of my stuff. And don't you need to get ready to move into summer housing?"

Charles instantly deflated, looking around the room in despair.

"I suppose," he grumbled. Then he look hopeful. "I could see you tonight?"

Erik laughed, mostly from surprise. Charles really seemed undeterred. Erik couldn't believe his luck. Even as the rational part of his brain judged him harshly for the sudden turn of events. Socialising twice in a weekend? Unheard of. It's summer, he reminded himself. And then, quieter — and it's Charles. But then Charles was looking anxious again, likely unsure what he meant by his reaction.

"Sure," Erik said, trying to smooth things over. "Give me your number." He sounded more confident than he felt. Once they exchanged numbers, Erik sighed.

"Okay, I'm actually going now," he said, standing up.

Charles looked up at him and leaned in a little closer. He gazed at Erik's mouth. "I probably shouldn't, right..?" he started.

Erik put a firm hand on his shoulder and held him back. "Definitely not," he agreed. "Talk to you later." He let go of Charles, and made his way out of the door, more confused and excited than ever before.

Glancing at the time, Erik took a deep breath. He'd showered until he felt human again, and then packed up the rest of his things that he wouldn't need tonight or the next morning. It wasn't that much, and he'd been basically done already, but he felt better knowing he was that much closer to ready. His sister's husband was picking him up tomorrow, being the only person in the family with a car, so Erik wouldn't have to lug everything on the subway. Which he was very grateful for, but he didn't really relish stretching out the time with him. Making awkward small talk was one of his least favourite things to do. But now he had nothing left to occupy himself and anxiety was setting in.

He definitely didn't want to drink again tonight, that was for sure. But he wished there was something else to take the edge of, help his conversation with Charles flow smoothly again. What should we do? he worried. Maybe they should stick to the classics — dinner and a movie. He could take him to that pizza place he and Armando liked. Although… it was not exactly impressive looking. And pretty greasy. His mind went back to the image of Charles leaning in to him this morning, and swallowed. The future 'anything else' he'd flippantly referred to was looking likely, even if he tried to be modest about it. Charles definitely found him attractive.

Part of him was freaking out, he had to admit. His (not particularly extensive) experience with women aside, he hadn't gotten beyond kissing. It wasn't like he didn't know what to do, he just couldn't be sure how it would actually play out. What Charles might want or expect from him. Everything had felt so different already, so intense, he felt like he was fumbling at every turn. And all that was putting aside what it might mean for Erik, for his identity, if they actually slept together, if they dated… it was only recently he'd been assuming he'd do the whole wife-and-kids deal once he graduated. Everything about Charles had hit him so hard, he was getting whiplash. His usual excuses and expectations were crumbling before his eyes.

He forced himself to calm down. If he was truly honest, he knew himself and knew this could happen, had wanted it to happen. At least once. Especially since he saw Charles for the first time. Why should he deny this part of himself, just because the opportunity hadn't come up before? Couldn't he live life a little before settling down? He was young, after all. And he was responsible, he wouldn't let anything get in the way of his plans in the end.

So, for now, one step at a time. Charles had wanted to, had asked to kiss him. And the kissing had been good, really good. Surely they'd just start with that again, and just see where things went from there. Distracted from his panic for a moment, he couldn't help exploring that train of thought a little more. He pictured Charles looking up at him, tongue sneaking out to trace those soft lips. He fuzzily remembered the way they'd felt against his last night, the way their tongues had moved together, the feel of Charles' waist under his arm, his hand pressing into the small of his back as he pulled them closed together, the quiet, breathy sounds he made…

Erik's hand slid down his lower stomach, dipping into the waistband of his jeans. He undid the button and zip half-consciously with his powers, moving lower, groaning slightly as he came in contact with his dick, already stirring to life. He squeezed himself once through his boxers, then pushed inside them too, starting to stroke himself slowly. Charles, he thought, oh, Charles. He wasn't used to being so turned on, just by the sound of someone's name, the feel of it in his mouth. He remembered that sliver of skin he saw this morning, imagined how he would feel pressed against him, what he might look like outside of his buttoned-up clothes… he looked so innocent, Erik felt a guilty thrill at the idea of him being secretly desperate for it, his upper class voice wrecked with pleasure.

As Erik's hand sped up, he grimaced, already a bit too dry to continue, and reached for the tiny bottle of lotion he hid in his shower bag. Adequately slicked up, he resumed his steady strokes, gasping quietly as he twisted up and over the head from time to time. Usually masturbation was a pretty perfunctory experience for him — trying to deal with the urge so he could relax or get to sleep, in a rush so he wasn't caught. He'd think about porn usually, no-one in particular, just naked bodies moving, maybe a flash of something he'd felt before. It was different this time. He couldn't get the image of Charles out of his mind, thinking about what he might look like, those big blue eyes hazy with lust, how Erik could make him lose control.

He wanted to last, it felt so good, but he was teetering on the edge remarkably quickly. His hand sped up again, desperate, his thoughts just a kaleidoscope of images now, of fingers grasped in hair, and sliding skin, and Charles underneath him, those red lips open-mouthed in a gasp, eyes shut in ecstasy… He came hard, with a barely contained groan, spurting over his fingers and stomach.

As soon as he came down from his high, and his breathing evened out, he looked down as himself with disgust. Great, he chided himself. Now I need to shower again. He tried to ignore the slight hovering guilt and shame caused by thinking of Charles that way, and hoped that he wasn't lying about not reading his mind. He knew no one should have to hide their mutation, but he didn't like the thought of being laid completely bare, totally vulnerable to someone either. Knowing his private fantasies were only the tip of the iceberg. He cleaned up a little with some tissues and then headed back to the bathrooms, grateful once more for the quiet corridors. At least he was slightly more relaxed now, he supposed.

~

Back in his room, he noticed a new phone notification. His heart started speeding up automatically. Shit, he thought. He hadn't ended up thinking of anything. Well, anything useful.

Erik blinked. It was possibly the longest text he'd received in his life. And there were more.

He shook his head. It shouldn't be so cute, but somehow…

he sent back.

A few seconds later he received another message.

Well, at least part's sorted, Erik thought. One step at a time.

The breeze was still fairly warm as they left the restaurant, gently fluttering Charles' hair. Erik was happy to see him in a short sleeved shirt, even thought it was still a button-down. With his arms bare, and in light blue jeans, Charles looked positively casual, especially compared to when he'd visited the cafe. Erik was feeling pleased in general. The food had been great and they'd had fun talking as they ate, despite realising they had pretty differing opinions on pop culture. Erik was resolved to make Charles correct some pretty glaring gaps in his movie watching history. He hadn't seen any of the Terminators? Erik was aghast. He also needed to send him some music recommendations. It seemed like Charles' younger sister had too much influence on what he was listening to. But everything had gone smoothly, no horrifying awkward silences. At least until Charles was determined to pay for both their meals, reasoning that he'd chosen to go there in the first place. Erik was having none of it, and managed to talk him into splitting the bill, even though Charles' pouting face had made a brief reappearance.

Thankfully it seemed forgotten already, with Charles smiling up at him as they wandered aimlessly down the street. Erik hoped that the night wouldn't end there.

"Do you wanna go see a movie, or something?" Erik asked, trying to make up for his lack of suggestions earlier. He pulled out his phone and searched. "There's, uh… The Conjuring…" He shook his head. "Ah, nope, not for me. Or… The Heat? Never mind, that looks kinda dumb. Uh… The Lone Ranger?" He made a face. "Okay, maybe not a movie."

Charles laughed. "I mean, I don't really care if they aren't good," he replied. Erik opened his mouth to make a comment akin to 'you wouldn't', but was quickly shut down with a look. "Why don't we just watch something on my laptop? There's probably something better on Netflix anyway, and it's free."

Erik frowned. "I can afford a movie ticket."

"I know that!" Charles responded quickly. "I just mean, it's not as annoying if the movie's bad, then. And there won't be any annoying other people around as well." He smiled sweetly.

Erik felt himself melt a bit. "Oh, right. Sounds good," he replied. They turned to make their way back to campus. "Wait, has Sean left yet?" he asked.

Charles wrinkled his nose. "I'm not sure actually. Let's go to your room?" he asked hopefully.

Erik considered. "Everything's pretty much packed away now, there's only my sleeping stuff for tonight, and some things for tomorrow left out."

Charles shrugged. "We don't really need anything though?"

"Okay," Erik said slowly. "I guess not."

Charles grinned at him happily, and grabbed his hand. "Except snacks! Do you want snacks?"

Erik laughed. "We literally just ate." And then, as Charles' mouth instantly turned down at the corners, "Fine. Let's get snacks."

~

As they pushed through the door to Erik's room, Charles' eyes widened.

"Gosh!" he exclaimed. "It is clean in here." Erik snorted in response, dumping the bag holding the pre-popped popcorn and something he could only assume was pure sugar with food colouring in it on the now empty bedside table.

Charles perched on the edge of Erik's bed, still looking around. There wasn't much to see. Erik went to get his laptop out of his backpack.

"Are you sharing with Sean again next year?" Erik asked, hunting around for the charging cord. There was no way his old laptop would last an entire movie unplugged.

Charles shook his head. "I don't have to stay on campus anymore, so I was thinking of renting an apartment."

Erik was surprised. "By yourself?"

"Yeah," Charles replied, looking down. "It's sometimes good to have my own space."

"Of course," Erik said, realising. "It must get pretty noisy for you everywhere here." He didn't mention how expensive it must be though, to rent an apartment on his own, in this area. Money had been enough of an awkward topic already.

Charles looked up and smiled softly. "What about you?" he asked.

"Hopefully I can stick with Armando," Erik replied, plugging in the laptop so it sat sideways on the desk, and switching it on. "He's a good roommate." Charles nodded.

"So, what do you want to watch?" Erik asked him, opening the browser and going to Netflix. He felt slightly embarrassed when the log in screen popped up with an account for everyone in his family, with a different stupid avatar for each person. He clicked through quickly and went straight to the search bar.

"I'm easy," Charles said and then coughed. "I mean, I'm not fussed. I don't mind. Is what I mean."

"Hmm," Erik considered aloud. "They have the new Dredd? It might not be as good as the original though."

"Sounds great," Charles said. "Anyway, I haven't seen the original." Erik rolled his eyes. Of course not. He clicked through to the film and pressed play.

Charles kicked off his shoes, then tried to straighten them up side-by-side on the floor. He still sat awkwardly close to the bed's edge, like he was worried about accidentally messing something up and getting into trouble.

"Are you going to sit like that all night?" Erik teased, kicking off his own shoes and bounding past Charles to stretch out on the bed, next to the wall. Charles looked embarrassed.

"Shut up," he grumbled, but scooted back a bit, until he was sitting cross-legged. He was still sitting awkwardly upright though, like he was worried about accidentally backing into Erik's legs. Erik hid a smile. He wondered when Charles had suddenly gotten so shy. He spun his legs around a bit to face the same way as Charles was, and propped his pillow sideways between the wall and his back.

"Come here," he said, tugging on Charles shoulder. Charles had a light blush painting his cheeks, but he moved back further as requested, until they were sharing the pillow back rest. He felt warm against Erik's shoulder, and Erik let his thigh fall slightly against his too. The studio logo animations had barely left the screen when Charles looked up at Erik.

"What?" Erik asked, with a smile.

"Snacks?" said Charles, with a puppy-dog look. Erik rolled his eyes again, but dutifully rolled away to reach the bag and pull it back towards them. Charles dove in happily, and Erik used the the opportunity of getting comfortable again to lightly rest his arm atop the pillow behind Charles, a few centimetres from his shoulders. It's a classic for a reason, he thought defensively, to no-one in particular.

"Oh goody, a psychic mutant," Charles laughed, as the film got underway.

Erik winced. "Sorry. There wasn't one in the original. Do you want to change the movie?"

Charles shook his head. "It's fine, it's usually funny to see what they come up with anyway. God forbid they consult or even cast someone with actual powers, right?"

Erik hummed in agreement. "Mutant representation is so shitty still. You'd think they'd be happy to reduce the CGI budget."

"It's the legal aspect too," Charles added. "They're terrified of something going wrong and being liable." He sighed. "I bet most mutants wouldn't want to play their godawful 2D characters anyway."

"What," Erik started, in mock-shock. "You don't want to use your power to help a dystopic, violent militia in the war against crime?"

Charles pretended to consider it. "I think I'll pass," he stated.

"Well, if you're sure," Erik said in a disbelieving tone, and shook his head. "Mutants these days," he grumbled jokingly.

Charles laughed and poked him in the side, and Erik grabbed his arm with one hand, using the other to poke him back. Charles started giggling, and wriggled to get away, only pulling Erik along, and closer to him. They paused, faces only inches away from each other. Charles' face was flushed and he bit his lip mid-giggle. Second chance, Erik thought. Don't fuck it up. He leaned in, and claimed Charles' lips in a kiss. Charles' responded immediately, opening his mouth to let Erik in. This time Charles tasted like cherry candy, and popcorn, and somehow still a little bit like lamb, from dinner. Erik didn't care at all. He felt drunk again, but this time it was only on Charles, the way he felt in his mouth and in his arms. He ran a hand up his back, to the back of his head, and lowered him gently to the bed, half on top of him, and arms caging him in. It felt a thousand times better than he had imagined earlier, he couldn't believe just kissing could feel this good. There was some sort of gunfire noise in the background, and he realised absently that the movie was still playing.

Charles moaned against his lips and the sound went straight to Erik's dick. Erik slid the hand on his waist lower, past the small of his back, to grab at his ass. He felt Charles shudder underneath him, as he moved his hands to circle Erik's waist and pulled him closer on top of him. Erik bit back a groan as Charles pressed against him, and Erik's already half-hard dick dragged against his thigh. Even through two pairs of jeans, the friction sent sparks up his spine. He could feel Charles' erection digging into his lower stomach, and he almost couldn't believe how hot it felt. To know he caused that, that Charles was hard because of him. Erik shifted a bit to try and align them better as he pulled back from where their lips were joined, with a small gasp. He started kissing around Charles' cheek to his jaw, mouthing wetly at the side of his neck as Charles moaned louder, eyes shut, just like he'd pictured. He rolled his hips down against Charles as he continued groping his ass, grinding their dicks together, desperate for more. He slid his other hand underneath Charles' shirt, marvelling at the heat and smoothness of his skin, as he licked and then bit his neck gently, just under his ear.

Suddenly, Charles arched his back, and let out a small cry, then stilled beneath him. Erik had been still moving mindlessly against him, but stopped when he realised he wasn't moving anymore.

"Charles?" he panted, pulling back and propping himself up on his hands. "Is everything…"

Charles looked absolutely wrecked. His chest was heaving, face red, and lips swollen. His hair was in total disarray, and his pupils were huge, black swallowing up the blue.

He also looked like he was going to cry.

"Charles!" Erik exclaimed in alarm. What the fuck did you do this time? he berated himself automatically. You were so caught up in it all you didn't even check if he was okay…

Charles didn't say anything, but started to shift uncomfortably, and that's when Erik noticed the wet spot spreading on the front of his pale jeans.

"Oh," Erik said quietly, eyes wide and frozen in place.

Chapter Text

Charles thought he might die of embarrassment. He closed his eyes, with the childish and futile wish that it would make him disappear. After every moment of his life leading to this one, his hopes and anticipations for what could happen tonight, and here he was, sticky and still fully clothed. The seconds seemed to stretch out endlessly.

"Fuck, you're so hot," Erik whispered, breaking the silence.

Charles huffed out a laugh in surprise. "You don't have to do that," he mumbled.

"Do what?" Erik asked, with a frown. He leaned back a bit further.

"Try and make me feel better," Charles responded, starting to wriggle out from under him.

Erik's frown deepened. "I'm not." He looked over his shoulder with irritation at the movie that was still playing and slammed the laptop shut with a hand wave. Then he turned back to Charles, sitting on his knees. "I… all of that was really hot. You might have noticed I wasn't exactly… unaffected."

Charles drew his legs up into his chest, despite the ongoing discomfort. He had noticed, it had been difficult not to, frankly. He cast a quick glance at Erik's crotch — the outline of his erection still visible through his jeans. He swallowed a little. Goddammit, he's fucking huge, I knew it. He was simultaneously intimidated and turned on by the sight. You'll probably never get to see it again anyway, he thought morosely.

Erik was still looking at him, eyebrows raised. His cheeks were turning slightly red under Charles' gaze.

"I'm just embarrassed," Charles said finally, in a small voice.

"Well, you shouldn't be," Erik said firmly. "You should take your pants off," he added, getting up from the bed slightly awkwardly, still half-hard.

"What? No!" Charles squawked, face heating up.

Erik look confused. "You must be uncomfortable?" He started to rummage through a duffel bag. "I don't think you want to wear them across campus either."

Oh. Charles' heart sunk, even though he wasn't surprised that Erik would want to kick him out. God, you're an idiot.

Erik held up a pair of sweatpants. "You can wear these." He tossed them across to Charles, and waited expectantly.

Charles grabbed the pants, and paused. "Can you turn around?" he asked.

"After that?" Erik exclaimed. "I… never mind. Fine." He dutifully turned his back to the bed.

Charles hurried to change, grimly wiping himself with his underwear before putting the sweatpants on. He looked ridiculous — the fabric was tighter around his ass and thighs and they were too long, the ends pooling on the floor under his feet. He rolled them up so at least he wouldn't trip, and balled up his clothes.

"I'm done," he said begrudgingly. Erik turned around and ineffectually tried to hide a smile. Charles made a face. "I'll go now."

"Why?" Erik asked, with concern. "Did I do something wrong? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. And you just look… cute."

Charles grimaced at the word. "Don't you want me to leave?" he asked tentatively.

"No!" Erik looked confused again. "Why would I? If you want to go, that's okay. I just thought… we don't have to do anything else, we could just finish the movie? Or watch something else?"

"Really?" Charles asked, surprised. "Then… maybe something else? I wasn't really paying attention before," he confessed.

Erik laughed, relaxing. "Me either." He went back to his laptop. "Maybe something funny? Always Sunny?"

Charles shrugged. "I haven't seen that before."

Erik groaned. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered.

~

This time Erik curled around Charles right away as they settled in to watch the show, pulling him against his chest. "Is this okay?" he asked.

"Yes," Charles replied, then feeling a little snarky about him being so careful, "Afraid I'm going to ruin your pants next?"

Erik laughed. "Definitely," he said, pretending to be serious. "I just have that effect on people," he joked. He was quiet for a moment and then Charles felt him lightly brush his lips on top of his head. "I wasn't lying before. You're so hot, you drive me crazy. I was so turned on before. So don't feel bad."

It was hard for Charles to believe it, but that didn't mean it wasn't nice to hear. He chuckled quietly, not knowing what to say.

"Actually, I…" Erik continued, sounding shy. "I haven't done much with a guy before. So you can tell me, you know, if I mess up or whatever. Or do something you don't like."

Charles turned around in shock. "What? But… how?"

"I'm not a virgin or anything," Erik said, defensively. "Just with guys."

Charles went red. He took a breath. "I am, actually," he admitted.

Erik's mouth dropped open. "But you're so…" He shook his head, seemingly unable to find the right word. "… and didn't you go to that all boys boarding school?"

"What the hell do you think we were all doing?" Charles laughed. He kept to himself that he had also been disappointed by the lack of opportunities there. Erik blushed, caught.

"I should have said something," Charles added, not meeting his eyes. "I just didn't know what was going to happen tonight, so..." He fiddled with the waist tie on the sweatpants.

"Hey," Erik said, lifting up Charles' chin, "I don't mind, I was just surprised. Sorry. For saying it like that. And also, I would have tried to make it nicer or something, if I had known…"

Charles started laughing. "Like what? Rose petals?" Erik made a face at him. "Anyway, I'm not sure that counted, so maybe you still can." That was a little bold, he thought instantly. Too far?

Erik didn't seem bothered. He looked thoughtful. "I think it counts? It doesn't matter anyway, who cares." He shrugged. "It's up to you what matters."

"Says the guy who's not a virgin," Charles shot back. Erik looked sheepish. Charles swallowed. Erik was so close to him, looked so handsome, smelled so good. He'd been so kind too. Charles had expected the night to end in humiliation, and them probably never speaking again. But Erik wasn't that experienced either. And he thought Charles was hot. Maybe everything wasn't going so badly after all. They could figure it out together. Charles timidly reached for Erik's thigh, ran his hand lightly along it. Erik took in a quick breath at his touch.

"Erik," Charles began, just like the night before, but this time he wanted more. Erik looked at him questioningly. "Can I touch you?" Charles asked. "I mean, like, properly?" Erik blinked. "We don't have to," Charles added hurriedly. "I just… I wanted to make you feel good tonight too." He laughed nervously. "If I can."

Erik nodded, eyes wide. "Uh, if you want?" Charles nodded. Erik looked unsure suddenly. "How do you…what should I…?"

Charles held back a slightly hysterical giggle. "Um, can we turn off the—" Erik flicked the laptop shut before he finished speaking. "Great! Okay. Um, lie down?" Oh no, what do I want? he thought nervously. Maybe it would be better if one of us knew what we were doing. No, you can do it, he tried to encourage himself. Just think of all your… research.

Erik started stretching out on the bed. He tugged at the hem of his shirt. "Should I?"

"No," Charles shook his head. "I want to." Erik nodded again, and laid down.

Charles took a deep breath and knelt over him, bracketing him with his thighs. He leaned down onto his hands and knees, heart pounding. He could hear Erik's breath hitch, and felt warm all over. He licked his lips and finally started kissing Erik again, starting slow. Erik responded eagerly, surging up against him, and running his hands up and down his sides as their tongues entwined once again. After a moment, Charles pulled back, and started to kiss down the side of Erik's neck, and along his collarbones. He could feel Erik's heart thumping, and his breath was quickening already. Charles leaned on one hand, and with the other started to run his fingers under Erik's t-shirt, tracing up and across his chest, and down to his stomach. He felt the muscles jump slightly as he caressed him, and leaned in to kiss him again, letting his hand skim gently over Erik's nipples, feeling them pebble under his touch. Erik groaned quietly into his mouth.

Charles lowered more of his weight onto Erik, and then pulled him slightly until they were both on their sides. He kept kissing him, only breaking apart as he tugged Erik's shirt upward, and Erik helped him pull it over his head and arms. Then Erik started undoing the buttons on his shirt, and he shivered as Erik began kissing the exposed skin on his chest.

"Aren't I supposed to be—" he started to grumble, but Erik looked up at him pleadingly.

"Can I?" he asked. "I want to touch you too."

Who was Charles to deny him? He nodded, and helped pull his shirt off when Erik got the last button open. They dove back in towards each other, pressing skin against skin, feeling the heat of each other's bodies as their kisses grew even deeper and their hands roamed. Charles felt his hips thrust involuntarily against Erik's thigh as they moved together, and Erik pull back with a chuckle. Charles ducked his head, embarrassed again.

"I'm sorry," Erik said teasingly. "Those pants have got to come off. I don't have that many spares."

Charles gave him a tiny shove and pouted indignantly. But he didn't stop Erik moving in to undo the waist tie and start to slide the sweatpants off his hips. He bit his lip as Erik finished pulling them off his legs, and threw them aside, leaving Charles completely naked.

"Fuck," Erik breathed. "You're so beautiful."

Charles couldn't help but turn his head aside, trying to bury it into the sheets. He was sure he just looked pale and scrawny, and not very impressive. But Erik was back straight away, kissing his neck and touching his thighs. Charles gasped as he finally felt Erik's hands lightly caress his balls and grasp his cock.

"Wait," he choked out, a few seconds later, "what about you?"

"Huh?" Erik asked, eyes clouded with lust.

"I want to be touching you," Charles protested again, scrabbling to pull himself up.

Erik laughed, but leaned back and undid his zip, started to pull down his jeans.

"Stop it!" Charles said, batting his hands away. He pushed Erik onto his back again, and started taking them off himself. Erik rolled his eyes, but didn't look like he minded at all.

Charles let out a small whimper as the jeans slid off Erik's legs and he could see his erection straining against his underwear, looking even bigger than it had before.

"Goddammit," he muttered, pausing to lick the line of his cock once through the fabric, before he hooked his fingertips under the waistband and began to pull them down too. "How am I supposed to fit that anywhere?"

Erik's surprised laugh turned into a groan as Charles spat on his hand and grasped Erik's cock, sliding his palm up and down and marvelling at how he felt. The shape, weight, length, thickness, everything about it made Charles' mouth water. After everything he had seen, in other minds, or online, or wherever, he was finally actually experiencing it for himself. He couldn't resist attempting another lick, from the base to the head, before having a go at lightly sucking on the tip. He liked the taste, the smell of Erik, clean and masculine. It was intoxicating. Erik let out a shuddering breath, his hand gripping the sheets.

"Fucking… Charles… come here," Erik gasped, interrupting him. Charles frowned as he leaned forward and pulled Charles down alongside him. "Wait one second." He leaned over the bed and dug around in his bag, pulling out a small jar of lotion. He squirted some onto his palm. "I need…" Charles nodded. Needless to say, he hadn't touched a circumcised dick before, and hadn't been exactly sure what to do. He'd seen the spit thing in porn, he hoped Erik hadn't thought it was gross.

Erik lay down again next to Charles, sliding his clean hand around his waist, and then gripped them both together with the one he'd put lotion on. Charles moaned, tucking his head into the juncture between Erik's neck and shoulder, as Erik began to stroke them steadily, their cocks sliding against each other. It felt incredible. Charles felt sparks of pleasure shoot up his spine as they rocked together, fucking up into Erik's fist. Charles felt like he might die again, but this time from how good he felt. Half from the physical sensations, but half from even the thought that they were doing this, that he was in bed, naked with Erik, that he was causing Erik to make those sounds, breathe like that. Everything was overwhelming.

"Put your hand around mine," Erik instructed, panting. Charles obeyed, crying out at the new experience of their hands moving together. Erik has never done this before either, he reminded himself. He felt impossibly hard, like he might burst out of his skin.

Erik grabbed his ass again with his free hand, massaging him and pulling Charles closer towards him.

"Oh, Erik," Charles whimpered. "You feel so good… I…" He was on the edge again, already.

"Fuck," Erik gritted out, his hand speeding up. Charles couldn't hold back any longer, moaning into Erik's chest as he came, completely lost to the sensation. Erik kept stroking them, the lotion mixing with Charles' come, until not long after, he followed with a loud grunt. He collapsed against Charles, breathing hard.

"Fucking hell," he said. Charles nodded in agreement, unable to speak for the moment.

With his clean hand, Erik ran his fingers through Charles' hair, and kissed the top of his head. As they got their breath back, Charles started to giggle softly.

"What?" asked Erik sleepily.

"I think that one counted."

The next morning, Charles awoke to Erik gently shaking him.

"Sorry," Erik said. "I have to head off soon, my brother in law is picking me up."

Charles stared at him blearily. He was shocked he'd managed to sleep so well with them sharing Erik's twin bed. It had taken him a little while to actually fall asleep — his mind still racing with nerves and excitement, and the unfamiliar sensation of someone curled up around him. Even now he felt a small thrill at the thought of Erik pressed up against him, his arm slung around him, his warmth on his back and his breath tickling his neck.

"You looked very peaceful," Erik chuckled as Charles started to get up, search for his borrowed sweatpants and pull them on, suddenly feeling exposed again in the light of day. "So cute," Erik teased.

Charles gave him a Look. Then he remembered something that had been playing on his mind while he was drifting off. "What's your surname?" he asked. "I can't believe I lost my virginity to you, and I don't even know your full name."

Erik laughed. "You slut," he deadpanned. "It's Lehnsherr. Erik Lehnsherr."

Charles jumped up, holding out his hand. "Charles Xavier. Please to meet you."

Erik paused, leaving Charles' hand dangling in front of him awkwardly. "Wait, Xavier? Not the—"

"Yeah," Charles cut in, with a sigh. "Xavier Corp., all that." He let his hand drop.

Erik's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. "What are you doing here then?" He sounded accusatory.

Charles' face fell. His heart did a flip at the change in Erik's tone and stance. "What do you mean?" he protested. "You know why I'm here, I told you. About what I'm studying and what I want to do."

"Even though you could just be sitting at home, counting your piles of money?" Erik asked bitterly.

"Oh, for fucks sake," Charles muttered, finding his shirt on the floor and beginning to do up the buttons angrily. "If that's what you think of me, great. Just like everyone else. It's either that, or pretending to like me, thinking they can get something out of it, but I stopped being fooled by that one a while ago."

Erik took a step forward and swallowed. He looked instantly regretful. "I didn't really mean it like that," he said quietly. "It just came out." He scuffed his shoe against the bed frame. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Charles sighed, pushing down his hurt. He kicked his shoes out from under the bed.

"No, really," Erik said. "That was shitty of me. I'm not like everyone else. I think what you want to do is great. All I want is to get a job so I can stop worrying about bills." He chuckled self-deprecatingly.

Charles looked at him with a small smile. "That's completely legitimate too," he argued gently, trying not to sound condescending. "I guess because I don't have to be so concerned about that, I should try and do something that might help someone else."

Erik nodded, but then their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. "Shit," he muttered, then swiped to answer.

As he talked, Charles put on his shoes and gathered his clothes for yesterday, still feeling a pang of embarrassment when thinking about them. Erik hung up the phone.

"Noah's here, I have to go meet him out the front," he said. "Oh, do you want a bag for those?" He gestured to the clothes Charles was carrying.

Charles shook his head. "It's not that far. Will you be okay without the pants?"

Erik laughed. "Yeah, I'll survive."

"You'll just have to come and visit me," Charles said cheekily. "Until then, I'll hold them for ransom."

Erik shook his head, amused. Then his face turned more serious. "Uh… is it okay if we say goodbye here?" Charles must have let his confusion show on his face, because he added, "My family doesn't know. Yet. That I like men too." He looked embarrassed. "I just don't want to… I'd rather bring it up… not like this."

Not sure what else to say, Charles just nodded.

Erik captured him in a hug, then leaned in to kiss him. "I'll text you, I guess?" he asked, still seeming unsure.

Charles smiled. He thought it would be too childish too ask, but it appeared that Erik did want to keep seeing him, despite the awkwardness earlier. Especially if he was talking about telling his family. Charles tried to seem nonchalant.

"Yes, please," he replied. "I'll head out now." He kissed Erik again, just a quick press of lips against his, and let himself out.

It was only when he smiled vaguely at the man hovering outside the main exit, that he remember to be ashamed of his weirdly fitting sweatpants and bundled up jeans again, hurrying up his steps. But as he neared his building, the feeling was suddenly eclipsed by a paradoxical burst of pride, for his first ever 'walk of shame'.

2 weeks later

Moira groaned and pushed her hair back from her forehead.

"I can't look at these diagrams any more," she announced. "Coffee break?"

Charles agreed. The packed up their study materials, and left the library. The sun was shining brightly, and they both squinted as they walked outside for the first time in a few hours.

"So," Moira began, as they made their way to one of the cafes still operating during the break. "How's it going with the new boyfriend?" Since he’d texted her the day after the party, she'd been very supportive of his burgeoning relationship. He'd left out some of the more embarrassing details, of course.

Charles grinned. "Good. That is what he is, right? We haven't said, but I don't know if I'm supposed to ask. Anyway, we've just been texting lately. He thinks he can visit next weekend, we might go see a movie."

Moira laughed. "I think you can ask him if you want."

"Hmm," Charles considered. "It feels like I should know." He was about to mention taking a glance at his mind the next time they met up, but he remembered in time that he hadn't brought up his telepathy with Moira. It wasn't like he'd been keeping it a secret, but he also didn't want to draw attention to it, if possible. He was pretty sure she wasn't a mutant and he didn't know how she would react. He felt selfish, but he didn't want to lose his new friend so quickly. "I already searched Reddit to see if it's too soon to ask for a dick pic."

To Charles' chagrin, Moira burst out laughing. "Wow. And what do the brilliant minds of Reddit have to say?"

"Nothing helpful, honestly," he replied. Moira made an exaggeratedly shocked face. "It's mostly men asking when they should send one, and women complaining about receiving them."

"Sounds about right," Moira said, shaking her head. "Honestly, dating seems like such a minefield. Maybe you should send him one first?" she suggested. "Inspire some reciprocity?"

"Maybe." Charles briefly contemplated the advice. He wasn't sure Erik would be interested in that. He didn't think there was anything about him worth showing off. And why did he feel like a picture like that would somehow eventually get back to his parents, or shame the whole family, and ruin his life? Maybe it was asking too much, too soon.

Charles checked his notifications as they walked into the cafe and found a seat. Nothing new from Erik, but that wasn't surprising. He had warned Charles that he would be busy with his family and working, and Charles had said he would be busy with his classes too. He had just forgotten how much time those would leave any gaps there were in that schedule for pining for his maybe-boyfriend. And feeling horny. Luckily his summer accommodation wasn't shared. And despite not having any pictures, his memory really was excellent.

There were a few messages from Raven. She had spent her vacation so far mostly lounging around the pool, it seemed. Kurt was in London on business, and she said she only saw Sharon at dinner, always with a drink in hand. A few friends from Raven's high school were staying at the house to alleviate the boredom, but she complained about them too. Charles felt guilty, especially as he'd rather use his spare time to see Erik at the moment. She'd also seemed very excited to find out he'd kissed a boy after the party (he'd left out the vomit part for her too), but he doubted she was happy to the point that she wouldn't mind being ditched in favour of him. He resolved to organise a day out with her soon, especially if Erik had plans that day.

"How is everything going for you?" he asked Moira, the guilt about Raven prompting the realisation that he was spending a lot of time talking about Erik to Moira too. "Sorry for always ending up talking about my love life."

She laughed again and waved her hand. "It's fine. I asked, it's more interesting than what I have going on right now anyway." She got a gleam in her eye. "And the more this boy distracts you, the more chance I have of topping this class for a change."

That made Charles laugh too, although he didn't feel any less bad. He wasn't particularly competitive with his academic pursuits, he just wanted to increase his understanding and achieve his own goals. But he had learned that sometimes it was worse to tell someone that, if they considered him a rival. It could be perceived that he was bragging about beating them without even trying.

They commiserated briefly about the amount of reading required for one of their classes, and Moira judged Charles for still drinking hot tea in this weather, as she rolled her iced coffee cup across her forehead. They also shared their relief that they only had one group project during the session. It was good that most people doing summer classes were extra motivated, and it was less likely they'd be saddled with someone who wanted to coast through on other people's work. After a little while though, Charles noticed that Moira seemed uncharacteristically quiet. More than once, she opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again, taking another sip of her drink instead. He let it go for a little while, but ended up unable to help himself.

"Is there something on your mind?" he asked. "I don't mind, you can say it, whatever it is." He tried to keep any anxiety out of his voice.

She grimaced. "I was obvious, huh?" She took a breath. "I'm being an idiot anyway." Charles just smiled encouragingly at her and waited.

"It's just, I heard some other students talking…" Again, thought Charles, wonderful. "And they said… well. Are you a telepath, Charles?" She looked uneasy. "I'm sorry," she added, when he didn't answer right away. "I'm not trying to pick up gossip all the time, I just heard it and I wondered… I mean, if you are, you know all this already, right?" She laughed awkwardly.

Charles shook his head. "It's alright," he said, even as his stomach sunk. "I should have mentioned it before, but I swear, I'm not in your head, I haven't been in your head. I wouldn't do that without permission." It was a familiar script.

Moira's eyes widened. "Oh my god, Charles!" she exclaimed, "that's amazing!"

"Oh! It is?" He was taken aback. "Are you a mutant too?"

"No," she replied, looking somewhat crestfallen. "But it's so fascinating!" she added, perking up. "It's partly why I'm so interested in genetics, the advantages that mutations can bring to society, it's beyond imagination right now." She blushed a little. "Am I creeping you out?"

"Not at all!" Charles hurried to reassure her. Then, remembering what she had said earlier, he explained "I'm not using it for academic advantage either, it's against the rules. I had to sign all of these agreements before I could be accepted here, they take it very seriously." It wasn't like signing anything could actually stop him from doing anything he wanted, a fact he was sure a less scrupulous telepath would exploit. But he had no motivation or reason to cheat, and any suspicion that he would was frustrating.

He sighed. "I still don't think half the professors or students trust me anyway, but I can't do anything more…"

Moira looked sympathetic. "That must be really tough."

Charles shrugged. "I do get that it's hard for people to understand. I'm more surprised when people react well, at this point." He thought about mentioning Erik's mutation, and that he had more mutant friends at the cafe, but he wasn't sure if he had the right to reveal their identities. Maybe now that he knew Moira was accepting of mutants, he could ask them first.

"Well, I hope I wasn't a bad surprise," Moira said, with a hopeful smile.

"The opposite," Charles grinned. It was honestly a weight off his mind.

"And if I really want to pick your brain right now about what being a telepath is like?"

"Then you'll have to buy me another cup of tea," he replied.

Moira laughed, and stood up to go to the counter.

"And some cake!" he called out after her.

Charles leaned back in his chair and smiled. It was still only the beginning, but it was shaping up to be his best summer yet.

Chapter Text

"Someone's been on their phone a lot today," Ruth teased from her seat at the dining table. "Anyone special? Mama said you won't let her introduce you to anybody." She sipped her coffee and then gave him a questioning look. Edie was chattering away on her phone in the kitchen, after an unexpected call from a friend.

"Not that that's stopped her," Erik muttered, under his breath. He was stretched out on the couch after a few hours of yard work for a different friend of his mother's, legs too long and hanging over the arm rest. "Why are you here anyway?" he shot back at his sister. "Don't you have your own home now?"

Ruth made a face at him. "Polite as ever," she joked. "I lived here longer than you, so suck it. Anyway, Mama gets lonely, especially when you're at school."

Erik couldn't imagine how. Edie seemed to have endless friends and acquaintances, all of which had daughters or nieces or babysitters she was desperate for him to meet. He hadn't told anyone about Charles yet. He wasn't putting it off, exactly. Just waiting for the right time. He didn't want to stir everything up if it wasn't going to last.

"But I'm here now," Erik pointed out.

Ruth rolled her eyes. "She still likes me here, even if I'm not the favourite." It was said just as playfully as her other comments, but Erik could sense the undertone of truth, the past hurts not too far from the surface. He thought it was better to leave it unacknowledged.

"So?" Ruth continued. "You can't get rid of me that easily. Is there someone? If you told Mama she'd probably stop her fussing." At that, they both looked at each and laughed. "Okay, fine. But the fussing would only be about your girlfriend then."

"No, it's just a friend from college," Erik lied. "He's stuck at summer school, so we're going to the movies tomorrow."

Ruth brightened up. "Well that's still nice! You never did that before." Erik just shrugged in response, but it was true. He wasn't used to making time for people outside of his family. He wasn't used to all the text messages either. He had to admit it was nice though, he just hadn't known to want it before.

He was actually really looking forward to seeing Charles soon. At his basest, he really hoped they'd have sex again. As a twenty year old guy, that wasn't particularly notable in and off itself, but he'd been surprised at how much the thought was on his mind. It was just as frustrating, if not more, to try and jerk off in secret at home. He was worried he was giving himself a Pavlovian response to the door shutting when his mother went out, and his brain suddenly filled with images of pale skin, dark hair, red lips, and blue eyes. There had been nothing wrong with the sex he'd had before, it had been good and he'd enjoyed himself. But he hadn't thought about it that much afterwards, and if so, usually vaguely as masturbation material. Now he found himself desperate to feel more of Charles, to taste him. There was so much they hadn't tried yet. He had made a promise to himself, though, to let Charles set the pace. The last thing he wanted to do was to push him into something he didn't want.

But the feeling wasn't all X-rated. Erik missed Charles' voice, his way of talking non-stop until he realised and stopped himself with a blush. The way it felt to have the beam of his undivided attention turned solely on to you. His (overly optimistic) view of the future, and his (often bad and in need of educating) tastes in pop culture. Erik wanted to hear more about his telepathy too. He imagined it hadn't been a smooth process to get to the control he had now. Erik also wondered how his family felt about it.

On the topic of family, Erik had been worrying a bit about the Xavier Corp. stuff too. It made him uncomfortable, the proximity to such unimaginable wealth and influence. It was against so much that he felt defined him. He'd actually reached out to Alex about it, who was shocked to hear from him beyond a request for a shift swap. Alex had, in his characteristic way, confirmed that he had known who Charles was for ages, and praised Erik for 'humblebragging' (a term that Erik had to look up) about hooking up with a millionaire. Even seeing that word in text had made Erik feel slightly faint. But the more he talked with Charles the more he couldn't fail to see him as distinct from his family and their company. Yes, he was the heir of some vast, nebulous fortune and would never need to worry about money. But he was also just Charles, who sent him good morning or goodnight texts, and sent him pictures of his lunch, and worried about his sister, and wore DNA themed pyjama pants. Who he'd slept next to, naked, curled up against each other in a twin sized bed. In the bubble of college, their differences blurred a little. At least for now.

Charles had visited a few potential apartments in his free time, and was excitedly considering his options for making the space his own. If it was anything like his dorm room, Erik imagined the decor would mostly consist of 'piles of books' but he hadn't said anything to dampen his enthusiasm. It might be strange for Charles to be off campus when they returned, but Erik didn't want to get too ahead of himself. Charles might be sick of him by then, might realise who he was actually dating after his initial— and frankly baffling— interest wore off. It would be better if he was just grateful for what he got, and didn't raise his expectations, Erik told himself.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the return of his mother, praising his efforts today, and asking what he wanted to eat.

"I'm so proud of you, shefele," she said, ruffling his hair. Under his embarrassment for the childish endearment, under the warm glow of her love, he felt his chest ache.

It seemed Charles is just as happy to see Erik. Erik was lucky to have spotted him on the subway platform before he was hit with a surprisingly rib crushing hug for someone of Charles' stature.

"Sorry," Charles grinned, not looking particularly apologetic. "I've been waiting for that." Erik laughed, considering it has been just over three weeks since they last saw each other in person. But honestly? He had been waiting for it too.

Erik picked a movie for them to go to, on Charles' insistence. There was still nothing he actually wanted to see, so his decision was based more on the expected lack of children, rowdy teens and, if he's completely honest, potential homophobes. It's in French and it's about fashion, or something like that. Luckily Charles is just as engrossed as he is, which is not at all. It takes them less than half an hour for Charles to finish his snacks, and them to start making out. Erik had never done that before, kissing in public, and he's not totally convinced that he sees the appeal. Of the environment, that is. He's surprised how quickly things escalate on the 'can't keep their hands off each other' front. It takes two pointed flashlight illuminations from a jaded employee before they agree to leave early. They shuffle out awkwardly before making their way to campus, and then Charles' room, as quickly as possible.

"I've wanted you so badly," Charles gasps out as soon as the door is shut behind them, and Erik quickly has him pressed up against the wall, after claiming him in a desperate kiss. Charles' hands scrabbled at Erik's fly as Erik thrust up against him. He moved to kiss Charles' jaw and neck, down to his collarbones, reaching of any exposed skin he could get his mouth on. Charles was moaning and seemed like he was trying to get his legs around Erik's waist even as they were standing up, so Erik did his best to lift and carry him, stumbling towards the bed.

After discarding their clothes and grinding against each other helplessly for a while, Charles ignored Erik's protests and made his way down his body, seemingly determined to attempt his first ever blowjob. Erik could only hold onto the sheets and bite back his groans as Charles set to work, licking him and sucking him with fervour, using his hand when he couldn't fit any more in his mouth. Erik had to stop him when he heard choking sounds, even thought it was one of the hottest things he'd ever heard, and seeing a red-faced Charles with messed up hair, glistening eyes and spit slicked lips nearly made him come on the spot. Still, he really didn't want to hurt him. It didn't take much longer anyway — Erik barely had time to warn Charles before narrowly avoiding his lips and coming all over his fist.

Erik hoped Charles didn't have neighbours, or that the walls weren't as thin as he suspected they were, when he tried to return the favour. He was surprised how easy it was to choke, navigating the unfamiliarity of a dick in his mouth, but the noises Charles was helplessly letting out encouraged him to keep trying. Eventually he moved on to just using his hand again, gratified to discover that Charles' nipples were just as sensitive as some of the women he'd slept with before, and licking them increased the volume of his moans as he jerked him off until he came.

~

The showers were thankfully empty, and Erik explained his metal tracking trick before acting on impulse, letting himself into the same stall as Charles.

"I can sense their minds too," Charles admitted with a shy smile, turning on the spray. Erik was already half-hard again, pressing up against Charles as the water ran over them.

"Could you stop them from noticing us?" he asked, palming Charles' ass.

"I'm pretty sure I could," Charles considered, and lust sparked up Erik's spine. "I'd rather just send them away. Make them think it's locked, maybe. Safer and less invasive. I've never—" Charles gasped as Erik gripped their cocks together. "I don't know if I could keep my control, while…" He trailed off with a moan, rather demonstrating his point.

~

After they had finally washed off the results of their second round, they lay in Charles' small bed together, Erik idly stroking Charles' hair. Charles was asking questions about how Erik used his mutation to help out around the neighbourhood, and marvelled at how proud his mother seemed of his powers. His surprise at her acceptance reminded Erik of his previous thoughts about Charles' family.

"How did your parents react when you manifested?" he asked. "I can't imagine it was easy for them to adapt to."

Charles grew quiet and seemed to shrink a little.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Erik hastened to add. "I don't know if any mutant has a great story about that."

Charles let out a wry laugh. "True. But it's okay." He pressed back a little closer to Erik. "Actually, I was ten, so younger than most people." Erik was quietly shocked. Most mutant powers didn't manifest until puberty. "I thought I was going crazy, hearing voices. My mother and step-father agreed, sent to me to a child psychiatrist with fears about early-onset schizophrenia."

"Shit," Erik muttered. "That's awful."

"I had a lot of tests," Charles continued. "And a lot of medications. Nothing helped. I started to realise how pointed the thoughts were becoming, but it was confusing because they usually matched with what I was afraid of. That my mother resented the trouble I was causing, that my step-father hated me. I couldn't tell what was real or not. It took the doctors a while to figure out what was actually happening. And then much longer to work on my control, in both directions. You probably know how it is, 'your son has the X-gene, here are some pamphlets, good luck'. It's not like they can assign you someone with the same mutation or something to help you figure it out. I'd give the whole family a migraine at dinner, or wake up screaming from Raven's nightmare. Kurt, my step-father was looking for suppressants from overseas until I stopped him."

"Fuck," Erik said quietly. "What about your Dad?"

Charles sighed. "He died when I was eight, so…"

Erik winced. "Sorry."

Charles shrugged. "It's okay," he said automatically, sounding blank. "It was a work accident. It was awful at the time, obviously. And then when mother remarried like a year later. I still… Anyway." He sniffed. "What about you?"

Erik sensed there was a lot more there, but Charles had sounded final, like his part of the discussion was over. He didn't push it.

"My father died when I was young too," he revealed. "I'd just started school in Germany. A brain aneurysm, so at least it was quick. It really fucked everything up though. It's why we moved to the US." He stopped short, surprised at the welling up of emotion after so long. He didn't talk about it to many people, so he supposed that was why. He tried to push the feeling down, and swallowed.

"Oh god, Erik," Charles said, turning around to his other side, to face him. "I wasn't sure, you hadn't mentioned him… that's awful."

"It's fine," Erik replied, noticing how he was echoing Charles, shutting more discussion down as soon as possible. "Both in the dead dad club, then," he said weakly, an attempt at humour to lighten the mood.

Charles snorted softly. "So, you hadn't manifested either then?"

Erik shook his head. "No, I was thirteen. It was fucked up too though." He paused. "Maybe not like yours, sorry."

"It's not a competition," Charles admonished him gently. "And you don't have to talk about it."

"I know," Erik agreed. He fiddled with the hem of Charles' t-shirt. "Actually can I—" He turned around, away from Charles' compassionate gaze, resting his head on his arm and facing the wall. "I feel fucking stupid," he admitted.

"No," Charles said firmly. "Sorry, but you're not." He cuddled up to Erik's back and rubbed his shoulder. "Please don't, if you don't want to… We can talk about um… that band you like, the monkeys one."

Erik snorted. "You're such a dork," he said affectionately. Charles made a mildly disgruntled noise behind him. "It's stupid," Erik started again, speaking to the wall, "but I had this bully." Charles was quiet. "It's not like I was popular to start with. My English was good and I'd gotten rid of my accent as best I could. But I was still poor, and Jewish, and I don't know, just didn't fit in. And this kid, Sebastian. He was the richest kid in our year, his dad was in finance or something, and he was jerk, with all those kind of followers middle school bullies have. He was constantly making comments about me, and I didn't really give a shit what he thought, but it was just tiring, day after day. Then one day, on the soccer field, he was asking about what my dad did, because he was making fun of my clothes or something. And I said my dad was dead." Erik paused, and took a breath. His throat hurt from saying so much at once.

"He was quiet for a second, but then he laughed. He said if he was my dad, he'd rather die too, to get away from me." Erik heard Charles take in a quick breath. "So fucking stupid, but you know. I was just sick and tired of it all, and talking about my dad, it just made me angry. I'd already been in trouble a bit for getting mad at things, shouting at teachers or whatever. So I didn't want to start anything, even though all I wanted to do was punch him in his stupid smug face. I didn't want them to call my mother, and have her leave work. So I just like, clenched my fists and got angrier and angrier and suddenly I could hear creaking. I didn't know I was doing it, but the soccer goal started warping and crumpling, contracting into this ball of metal. And Sebastian starts screaming. He had this fancy watch, a present from his dad that he liked to show off, and he was on his knees, on the field, screaming as it twists and cuts into his wrist. Blood everywhere."

"Oh, Erik," Charles murmured, circling his arms around Erik's waist. Erik didn't move, but let himself be embraced.

"They called the police," Erik said bitterly. "I couldn't go back to that school. We had to move house. Ruth had been doing okay there, she had friends. She hated me for ages, for ruining everything." He sighed. "I wished I had died, instead of my dad. It took a while to see what I could do as something positive, that I could use. Instead of just something that scared people, that was destructive." He scrubbed at his face with his hands. "I worked on small things to start with. Mama kept encouraging me. She's proud of me now, it makes her so happy to see what I can do." He choked back a sob. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," Charles said gently. "I'm so sorry that happened to you Erik." He hugged him tighter. "It's so unfair. And unjust, really." Erik didn't say anything, just focused on trying not to cry.

They stayed like that for a while, before Erik felt okay to roll onto his back again. Charles looked at him with concern.

"I really killed the mood, huh?" Erik joked weakly.

Charles pouted at him. "Stop it," he said, shaking his head. "You don't need to make fun of yourself." He looked away. "I want to know more about you. I want to understand you, and be there for you. So don't pretend for me." He leaned in and pressed a few gentle kisses to the side of Erik's face, his forehead and his cheek.

Despite everything they'd done already that day, Erik didn't think he'd ever felt closer to someone in that moment.

Back at home, Erik responded vaguely to his mother's questions about the film and how he filled the other few hours he was out with his new 'friend'. He didn't know why he still couldn't quite bring himself to tell her. He was glad it hadn't come up again with Charles, he knew he didn't really have an excuse. Soon, he told himself.

~

Summer was passing quicker than usual. Some of the days at home went by in a blur. He and Charles were on the same page about three weeks being too long to wait before seeing each other again, so two weeks later he visited on campus again. This time they didn't bother with the pretense of watching a movie. Erik wanted to kiss every part of Charles, map out every freckle on his body, even as they sweated in the July heat.

"I'm only getting an apartment that has AC," Charles panted, as they flopped down on top of his sheets. Erik laughed, and rolled his eyes, and didn't call him a 'poor little rich boy' to his face.

~

The following visit, Charles produced a small bottle of lube, with a hopeful look, and introduced Erik to the concept of thigh fucking. Erik could swear his soul left his body via his dick as he came hard, just from sliding between Charles' clenched and slicked up muscles, his cock rubbing up against Charles' balls with every stroke. Charles came seconds later, when Erik added his hand to his own frantic movements. Erik couldn't believe how hot it was, considering it wasn't even 'real' sex. It had felt so close to it though — Erik pressed onto Charles' back, feeling his ass up against him, moving together. He could breathe in Charles' scent and bury his face in his neck, intoxicated by the slow drag of his cock against his soft skin, and the little whimpers Charles tries to hide. He can't imagine what it would feel like to be actually inside him, to be surrounded by his heat… Erik just wants more of Charles, in any way he can get it.

They found it easier than ever to use up their few hours together, until the point that Erik realised he wasn't going to make it home in time for dinner, and might as well stay the night. Charles frowned slightly as he stepped out into the corridor to make the call.

"I'll just stay with my friend Mama, it's fine," he assured her.

"Are you in trouble? Is there a problem? Do you need someone to pick you up?" she fretted.

"Of course not," he replied, rolling his eyes. "I'm twenty, and I stay here more than half the year. Stop worrying." She didn't sound convinced, but she let him go eventually, when he promised to let her know what time he'd be back the next day.

As Erik stepped back into the room he could tell something was wrong right away. Charles was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed. His whole body looked downcast.

"It's all good," Erik informed him. "I'll go back tomorrow." Charles didn't reply. "Is everything okay?"

"You didn't tell her?" Charles asked, furrowing his brow.

Erik's heart sank. "You were listening?"

Charles looked annoyed. "Not on purpose. I just noticed you called me your friend. I thought you were going to…" By the time he stopped talking, the annoyance was gone, and he was just sad again.

Erik swallowed. "I am going to." Charles raised his eyebrows an inch.

"There just hasn't been a good time," Erik said lamely. It sounded weak, even to him.

"Are you worried about their reaction?" Charles asked, brow re-furrowed. "I thought—"

Erik shook his head. "Not really." Charles looked nonplussed.

"I just, I wasn't sure when you'd get sick of me," Erik said, trying to sound self-deprecating and jokey. "I didn't want to make it a big deal, in case…"

"In case what?" Charles sounded hurt and Erik's chest clenched. "I don't know what you're saying. Maybe this isn't a big deal to you, but it actually is to me—"

"That's not what I meant," Erik interrupted hurriedly.

"Then what?" Charles demanded. "Why would I get sick of you? Will you? Is that all this is? I thought we were together, I thought you were my boyfriend." He look embarrassed. "I'm an idiot," he said, shaking his head.

Fuck, Erik thought. What are you doing? You're messing this up. "No you aren't," Erik said desperately, walking closer to him. "It came out wrong, I'm not used to doing this, I…" he stammered. "I don't want—"

"What do you want?" Charles asked, looking straight up at him, even though his voice shook slightly.

"I want to be with you," Erik confessed. "I want, what you said, I want to be together."

Charles seemed equal parts relieved and confused. "Then why..?"

Erik groaned inwardly. "I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted begrudgingly. "I haven't… been in a relationship before? I guess?"

"Oh," said Charles. "But the… oh. Okay." He ran his hand through his hair. "I should have just asked," he muttered to himself.

"Huh?" asked Erik, but Charles shook his head.

"Never mind," he said. "Will you be my boyfriend then?" He made a face, as if to make fun of himself for actually saying the words.

"Yes," Erik replied, and kissed him, slowly. He hoped it could somehow convey what he couldn't say properly. When they pulled away from each other, Erik looked determined. "I'll tell them," he said.

Over dinner the next night, Erik asked his brother-in-law if he could borrow his car in a few weeks.

"My, uh friend, is moving to an apartment soon," he explained. "It's furnished, but there's a bunch of books and clothes and stuff, it would help a lot."

Noah looked unenthusiastic. "I'm not saying no," he said slowly, "but maybe I should do the driving. When was the last time you drove?"

Erik was annoyed. "I literally control metal," he protested. "Out of anyone, you think I can't look after your car?"

Ruth made eye contact with Edie, across the table. "Is this the friend you stayed with last night?" she asked Erik.

"Yes," Erik sighed, irritated by the interruption.

"What was his name again?" Ruth questioned casually, reaching for the potatoes.

"Charles," Erik replied shortly. "I'm definitely safer than Ruth and you let her drive it," he directed to Noah, before realising that he had in fact never told them Charles' name before. He narrowed his eyes at his sister.

"Sounds fancy," she said.

"You've been hanging out with him a lot," Noah remarked idly, cutting up his chicken. Three pairs of eyes suddenly turned to him. "What?" he exclaimed.

"You should invite him for dinner," Edie suddenly announced. Erik groaned. She shook her head at him. "You said he's at school all summer, not going home. He must be eating terribly. I'm sure he'd appreciate some proper cooking."

Erik knew he wasn't getting out of this easily. "Sure," he replied. "I'll ask him later, he's really busy right now. Studying and the move and everything. But later, sure."

"Why later?" Edie protested. "You go to see him every week! He can come here."

"Not every week," Erik corrected. "And it gets busier at the end of session—"

Ruth rolled her eyes. "Are you ashamed of us?" she asked in a joking tone. But Erik wasn't in the mood to try and navigate that potential minefield.

All at once he felt cornered, his frustration rising, partly with himself.

"Just back the f— back off!" he yelled, pushing his chair back with a scraping sound as he stood up. Everyone at the table looked shocked.

"Erik—" his mother began, concern in her eyes.

"Leave me alone," he cut in, ignoring Ruth's gasp at his rudeness.

He stomped off to his room and only just managed to resist slamming the door, the way he would have five years ago. He threw himself down on his bed, and stuffed his fists against his eyes, forcing himself to take a breath and start to sense all the familiar metal objects in the room. It was the best way he knew to stop himself spiralling, and come back to the present. Everything was spinning around him, but the metal stayed still, stable and strong.

~

Erik must have fallen asleep. He jumped slightly at the knock on his bedroom door and noticed that the sky had darkened, casting his room in a bluish light.

"Coming," he mumbled, but the door was already opening. His mother poked her head inside.

"Are you alright, liber?" she asked, switching on the light. He groaned and shut his eyes. She moved towards his bed and sat on the edge, not waiting to be invited in. He struggled to sit up. She smoothed his bedspread with her hand.

"I'm sorry Mama," he began, feeling contrite. "I shouldn't have yelled."

She smiled at him and patted his arm. "I'm just worried about you," she said. "Although, you'll have to apologise to your sister. She's quite upset."

"I know," Erik sighed. "I'm fine."

"Yes, you always say this." She echoed his sigh. "I'm so happy you found a friend. But you seem upset, I don't understand why." Erik didn't know what to say, even where to start. Edie paused. "If he can't accept you as you are," she suggested gently, "then maybe he isn't a good friend after all."

Erik shook his head. "That's not the problem." Edie looked perplexed. "I think… maybe he understands me more than anyone I've met before," he tried to explain. She cocked her head, questioningly.

He took a deep breath. I guess you're doing this, he thought. He closed his eyes briefly, as if it would help everything he was feeling make more sense.

"You always talk about me finding someone special, Mama," he said.

She nodded. "You're still young though, you don't need to worry—" she started.

"I know," Erik cut in, "I'm sorry to interrupt. What I'm trying to say is…" His throat was constricting, his eyes starting to prickle. "I think, well, Charles is that for me." He saw understanding beginning to dawn on her face. "For now, at least," he hurried to clarify. "Not that I… I mean, I don't know. What will happen, in the future." Oh, shut up, he pleaded with himself. "But for now, he's not just my friend. We're… together," he choked out. He mercifully found himself out of things to say after that, and just waited.

His mother had tears in her eyes as she leaned in to hug him. "Oh, mayns hartsele," she sobbed as she held him tight. She rocked back and forth with him in her arms. He didn't fight it, even letting a few tears slip into the wool of her sweater, breathing in her scent like when he was a kid.

When she eventually pulled back, she kept her hands on his shoulders and shook her head. "Why couldn't you tell me before?" she exclaimed. "I've been asking my friends about the wrong gender all this time, I must have been driving you crazy! Jesse's cousin is gay too, you know?"

"No, Mama," he said patiently. Although you do drive me crazy, he thought, with affection. "I'm not gay. I just… like men too. So, I've, uh, dated other women, and now I'm dating Charles," he explained.

She looked a bit confused again, but smiled and patted his cheek. "Alright, liber," she said. "As long as you're happy." She paused. "He doesn't happen to be Jewish, though?"

Erik groaned.

"Alright, alright," she conceded. "I'll leave you alone." Suddenly she looked concerned. "But you must be hungry! You barely ate at dinner…" She started to get up.

"Wait, Mama," Erik said quietly, reaching for her arm to stop her from leaving.

"What is it?" she asked, sitting down again and grasping his hands. "You can tell me anything."

Erik's heart sped up. "I just wanted to ask," he started, hesitantly. "When Papa… do you know… I mean, do you think…" He cleared his throat. "Do you think he would have been okay with it?" he asked in a rush.

Edie's eyes began to well up again. She kissed him on the forehead and then sat back, considering. "I have to say, I don't know his exact thoughts on the matter," she admitted. Erik nodded in understanding. "But what I do know," she continued, "is that your father was a loving man. He was never quick to judge and was always willing to accept a new friend." She nodded confidently. "And most of all, he loved you." Her tears started to fall. "So please know that he loves you still, no matter what." Erik nodded again, wiping his eyes with his hand.

"Now," she announced, dabbing at her face with the tissue tucked into her sleeve. "I'm going to bring you some food." Erik laughed despite himself. She stood up and headed to his door, and then looked back thoughtfully.

"What?" Erik asked.

She grinned at him, a spark back in her eye. "You definitely have to invite him here for dinner now."

Chapter Text

"I'm so glad it went well with your mother," Charles said. They were naked, limbs tangled and relaxed, lying idly on Charles' just made bed. In the end, Noah had begrudgingly acquiesced to Erik's request to borrow his car, and they had moved Charles into in his new apartment. There hadn't been that much stuff, but they'd gotten somewhat sweaty and dusty anyway, lugging boxes of books around. Charles' new shower had offered welcome relief before they'd settled on the queen-sized mattress, without bothering to get dressed again. Already so many perks of having my own place, Charles mused gratefully.

Erik hummed in agreement, nuzzling into Charles' neck. "Of course," he replied, as if he hadn't put it off for ages. "I'm guessing yours was terrible? Whenever you came out, I mean."

Charles laughed with a hint of bitterness. "She didn't say or show much outwardly, which was probably good," he replied. "But my control still wasn't great, and she was loudly wondering if she should have re-married earlier than she did."

"Why?" Erik asked, confused.

"Apparently I needed a male role model to turn me straight?" Charles laughed again at the idea. "That whole year without a dad really did a number on me."

Erik rolled his eyes. "Wow, can't believe she figured that one out," he said sarcastically. "The right-wingers are in raptures."

Charles just kissed him in reply.

They stayed cuddling in the quiet, enjoying the air conditioning after the day's moving efforts.

"What would it feel like?" Erik asked, suddenly. "If you were inside my head?"

Charles let out a small laugh at the unexpected question. "I think I could do it without you feeling anything," he admitted. "But I wouldn't. Do you want me to show you?" He curled up around Erik, head resting on his chest. He felt like he needed to be honest, even if it made Erik uncomfortable. It would be worse for him to find out later and realise Charles had lied to him. Then anything else he said, about consent being important or how to shield, could be called into question too.

Erik seemed hesitant. "What would you see? Everything?"

"I would only look at what you want me to see," Charles assured him, cautiously hopeful. "If it helps, you can imagine putting thoughts you don't want to share behind a closed door or locked in a box or something, I won't go near them. And then you could think of something specific you want to communicate — words, or an image or a memory." He wouldn't insist, he was used to people being distrustful and asking him to stay out of their heads. But if Erik was curious…

Erik was quiet as he contemplated. "Okay," he said finally. "I want to try it. Maybe just for a bit."

Charles sat up and looked at him. "Really?"

Erik nodded. "I trust you, right?"

Charles held back a nervous chuckle at how unconvincing that sentence was, because Erik looked so sweet and open, even hopeful too. The notion that he could accept this about Charles made his chest feel tight. He wasn't used to the idea.

"Alright," Charles said. "I'll do it like this." He raised two fingers to his temple, a visual cue for his concentration as he connected their minds. "Are you ready?"

Erik nodded nervously, and then grinned. "Fuck, that's weird," he breathed, a few moments later.

Charles took a shaky breath. Even entering Erik's mind at a surface level was unlikely anything he had felt before. It felt structured and cool, somehow refreshing. Like a well organised, modern complex— gleaming metal,and a sense of intricate machinery, every element functioning as part of a whirring whole. It was somehow imposing, but beautiful. Charles could picture a slightly clumsily constructed metal box, with layers of locks and bolts, which he avoided. And he could sense Erik, awed and tentative, but reaching out to him like an outstretched hand.

"You feel warm," Erik breathed. Charles couldn't hold back his smile.

Hello, Erik, he sent. How lovely to meet you here.

Erik laughed out loud. HI, he replied and Charles winced slightly at the volume as the words filled his brain. Erik was projecting an image of himself waving and it was so basic and cute that Charles felt a surge of ridiculous affection. THIS IS CRAZY, Erik added.

You can be a bit quieter, Charles suggested gently. Just think it normally, I can hear the normal volume.

Sorry, Erik thought, the word tinged red with embarrassment. Better?

Much, Charles confirmed.

Charles could have easily stayed there, caught up in how intimate it felt, basking in the wonder on Erik's face, mirrored in his mind. But he didn't linger, withdrawing slowly and obviously enough for Erik to feel the separation, not wanting to push his luck on the first try.

"Not too bad?" he asked, unable to resist planting a kiss to Erik's temple, like a little farewell.

Erik shook his head. "You're incredible," he said slowly. "I can't believe… we could talk like that all the time?"

Charles laughed in surprise. "I… I guess?" He considered. "I'm not sure how far my range is. We'd probably have to be fairly close, like in the same building?"

"It's amazing," Erik enthused, propping himself up on his elbows. "It could be so handy."

"For what?" Charles asked, still laughing. "Talking over a movie? Sending messages in class? It's a pity we don’t have any together."

Erik frowned in contemplation. "Finding each other at a party?" he suggested. "Judging people silently? Or agreeing we want to leave somewhere, without pissing anyone off."

Charles playfully rolled his eyes. "All those parties we go to. So handy," he teased.

Erik pounced on him suddenly, pinning him to the mattress. Charles giggled underneath him. "Or in bed," Erik added, in a suggestive tone, "when your mouth is busy." He leaned in and kissed Charles slowly and thoroughly, as if to prove his point.

When they broke apart, Charles laughed somewhat breathlessly. "I'm honestly surprised you're so…" He hunted for the right word. "Receptive to it?"

Erik shook his head and brushed some hair back from Charles' forehead. "It's like any mutation, right?" he explained. "It could be used in a bad way, or for the wrong reasons. Or it can be a gift to make life better. People who are afraid of us are only seeing the worst possibilities."

Charles felt a pang hearing that, something both comforting and melancholic. It meant a lot for his own feelings to be understood and echoed by someone else; but hearing it spoken aloud in such clear terms was somehow painful too. "You're right," he admitted. "I guess I just haven't met many people who really think that, especially when it comes to telepaths."

"Well, aren't you lucky you met me?" Erik asked smugly, starting to press his hips more insistently against Charles'.

Charles laughed again. "So lucky," he agreed, wrapping his leg around Erik's waist. "I did enjoy being inside you," he joked, but then turned red at his own insinuation.

Erik raised an eyebrow. "Oh really," he said. "How interesting." He started to kiss his way down Charles' chest and stomach, reaching his awakening dick and slowly licking around the head. Charles moaned at the sensation, his hands coming up to rest in Erik's hair. Erik took the rest of him down in a smooth movement, their regular practice at this beginning to pay off. He sucked up and down Charles' length, massaging his balls with one hand as Charles writhed in pleasure.

Coming off him with a pop, Erik's voice was low.

"Do you like being inside me like this too?"

Charles moaned his assent, moving his hips restlessly, desperate for more. Erik grinned and swung around, on his hands and knees. He continued to suck and lick at Charles, who could now reach Erik's cock too. Charles grasped it eagerly, running his tongue along the underside. Erik groaned around Charles' dick, but then pulled off him, to turn and look at Charles' face.

"Okay?" he asked, and Charles breathed out a "yes", before going back to sucking at his tip. They moved like that for a while, together. Then Charles leaned back to suck Erik's balls into his mouth, one at a time, as he used his hand to stroke him. Charles was overwhelmed with how gorgeous he was, the way his body looked, and felt and tasted. He was dizzy with pleasure and need, but he wanted to make Erik feel good too, to draw out more of the bitten-off sounds and desperate groans.

Charles could feel Erik's kissing and nipping the inside of his thighs, sending sparks of lust through him with each small scrape of teeth. He tried desperately not to lose control and thrust his hips upwards, chasing more. Panting, he pulled back from Erik, and was caught by how sexy the view in front of him was. Erik's body wasn't like his — he was all sharp angles and lean muscle where Charles was scrawny in some places and sort of soft in others, which he was embarrassed about. In clothes, Erik's ass was barely visible from the straight up and down lines of his frame, but, like this, Charles enjoyed the feel of it as his hands roamed all over. The way Erik would tense involuntarily and then relax as Charles squeezed and caressed him. Erik lavished a lot of attention on Charles' backside, which he loved, and was hoping to explore more. But right now all he could thing about was returning some of the favour.

Charles ran his hands up to Erik's hips and then back down again, slowing down as he began to stroke and knead the muscles of his butt. Erik reacted predictably, jumping slightly at the first touch and then relaxing and pushing back slightly into his hands. Charles smiled to himself and the contemplated. He leaned up, pulling Erik down closer to him. Erik squirmed slightly as Charles began to leave light kisses on his cheeks, and then a sharp intake of breath as he licked experimentally along his perineum.

"Unh, Charles…" Erik began, voice cracking.

Charles sent back a sensation like lightly knocking on a door. My mouth is busy, he thought cheekily. Can we talk like this? He held Erik's cheeks open gently and proceeded to lick further upwards, towards Erik's hole. Erik shuddered above him, and Charles could feel rather than hear the resounding yes. Encouraged by the reaction so far, Charles didn't hold back any longer, flattening his tongue and licking a long, wet stripe over Erik's pucker. Erik noted and then pitched forward onto his elbows with a groan, his attempts to simultaneously pleasure Charles forgotten.

"Fucking… hell," Erik choked out, his mind lighting up with a mixture of lust and shock at the sensation. Charles continued, alternating between lighter flicks of his tongue and more decisive strokes that caught on his rim and began to allow for small and shallow thrusts inside. Charles was intoxicated by the way he tasted, clean from the shower, but that essential Erik taste, only earthier, stronger. Erik was pushing back against him now as he went deeper, pushing inside the ring of muscle as Erik let out a litany of sounds, his mind a flood of more and Charles. Charles noticed that Erik had started to stroke himself too, in time to the thrusts of Charles' tongue, and he doubled his efforts, giddy at the idea of getting him off like this. It wasn't long before Erik let out a cry and slumped forward, hand still moving as he shuddered through his release. Charles pulled out of his mind quickly to stop himself being caught in the wave of Erik's orgasm, cock twitching as he watched Erik's hole clench around nothing as he continued to come.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Erik finally gasped out, slowing his movements and flopping over onto his back. He looked dazed as he lay there, boneless and sated.

Charles grinned. "Good?" he asked, sitting up and then crawling over to where he lay, looking down at his face, which still held hints of surprise about what had just occurred.

"Hah!" Erik huffed out. "Uh… yeah. You could say that." He shook his head dazedly. "I didn't… I didn't know I would like that," he admitted weakly. "Fucking hell."

Charles felt smug, seeing him so affected. "God, you're so hot, that was so hot." He hovered over Erik, and leaned in to kiss him.

Erik immediately pulled away, dodging Charles and putting a hand on his shoulder to hold him back. "No, I can't—," he said. "I'm sorry."

Charles realised what was happening and went red. "Oh no, of course, sorry," he scrambled to reply, backing away and putting a hand over his mouth. "I'll go and brush my teeth," he said apologetically.

Erik nodded and then glanced down, embarrassed. Catching sight of Charles' still erect cock, his eyes went wide. "Shit, you're still hard!" he exclaimed. "Wait, let me…" He pushed Charles back against the bed gently, stroking his thighs and then grasping him in one hand. He set about blowing him enthusiastically, pulling Charles along quickly, as desperate as he was for release. Erik pushed his head down to take all off Charles in as he finally came, swallowing around him until he pulled away with a small cough.

"Jesus," Charles breathed, the idea of his come sliding down Erik's throat impossibly sexy. He'd never done that before; Erik had always pulled off and he'd come on his stomach or their hands. He felt a pang of concern. "Wait, should you have done that? Maybe we should have used—"

Erik laughed, interrupting him. "After what you just did?" he asked incredulously, his voice slightly hoarse. "Anyway, you're a virgin, Charles, what am I going to get?"

Charles flushed with embarrassment. "I'm not a virgin anymore," he said crossly, even though that wasn't the point.

Erik laughed again. "I'm sorry. Trust me, I know. Now go and brush your teeth so I can kiss you."

"Hmm," sniffed Charles, but, somewhat mollified, he went to do exactly that.

When he came back to bed, Erik immediately pulled him into his arms and covered his face with kisses.

"We should have sex in every room," Charles announced, when he'd been thoroughly kissed. "Properly christen the new apartment you know."

Erik snorted softly. "Aren't there only, like, three?"

"What's wrong with an achievable goal?" Charles complained, burying his fingers in Erik's hair and massaging his scalp. "One down, two to go…"

"You're incredible," Erik murmured sleepily. "I can't believe I get to be with you."

Charles found himself thinking the exact same thing.

A few weeks later, Erik couldn't put Edie off any longer. Charles really had been busy with the end of summer term exams, and setting up his new apartment. Now the fated day for dinner had finally arrived.

Charles had been texting Moira for tips, but she had never met a partner's parents before either. He was hesitant to tell Raven; he doubted she'd have anything actually useful to suggest and would probably make him more nervous. No help at all, any of you, thought Charles grumpily. Erik had slept over the night before, and Charles had an extra panic added to his morning. He'd been rushing around, trying to find a shirt to cover up the bite marks on his neck.

"Damn you, and your teeth," he grumbled, tugging at the tight top button.

Erik just grinned, shamelessly showing off the culprits. "You weren't complaining before," he said with a shrug.

~

In the train, Charles fretted in the seat next to Erik, a large box balanced on his lap.

"Are you sure this is alright?" he asked Erik. "I think flowers or wine are more usual. Cake seems kind of… cheap? It's not even from somewhere special."

Erik sighed. "I told you. Mama doesn't drink and she works at a florist. She won't be impressed by a bunch of fancy flowers." Charles chewed on his thumbnail, nodding in an unconvinced manner. "Food is best. And it's the one she likes the most. She'll love it, I promise."

"I'm so nervous," Charles confessed.

"Really?" Erik quipped. "I couldn't tell." Charles stuck his tongue out at him. Erik snorted. "We can talk in our heads, if you want," he offered, a moment later. "That way if you say something wrong I can let you know and—"

"I'm going to say something wrong?" Charles burst out, panicked. "Why would you think that? Why would you say that to me?"

"Charles," Erik looked at him with pleading eyes. "I'm trying to help. You're going to be fine."

"What if they hate me," Charles wailed. "I know how important they are to you and—"

"They're going to love you, Charles," Erik argued. "You're very lovable."

Charles, went quiet, his eyes huge. His heart started racing. "I am?" he asked dubiously. Erik was turning slightly red, maybe just realising what he'd actually said.

"Yes," Erik confirmed resolutely, putting his hand on top of Charles' and squeezing it. "Now, please calm down. It's going to be loud enough when we get there."

~

Charles' stomach lurched as Erik waved his front door open and let them in without knocking. He thought he'd have a moment to compose himself, and wasn't sure this entrance would give the best impression. He shuffled behind, in Erik's wake, into a smallish apartment from which delicious smells were emanating. A couple were seated next to each other at the dining table — a pretty woman with similar features to Erik, but with long auburn hair, and a man of similar age with dark hair and a beard, looking intently at his phone. Charles vaguely recognised him from when he waited outside the dorm for Erik, the first time they slept together. His cheeks went pink at the memory. The woman jumped up from her seat at the dining table as they walked into the room.

"You're here!" she called out in delight. "Mama!" she yelled, in the direction of the kitchen. "The boys are here!"

In response, a older woman stepped out through the archway, wiping her hands on a tea towel. Her grey-streaked hair was twisted into a bun and her green eyes sparkled.

"Boychik!" she exclaimed, pulling Erik into a hug and kissing his forehead. "How was the trip? Are you feeling well?"

"I saw you yesterday," he complained, but hugged her back. "I'm fine." He pulled away from her, and stepped to the side to reveal Charles. "This is Charles. Charles, my mama, and my sister, Ruth." He put his hand on Charles' back. "Noah's over there," he added, with an unenthusiastic wave. Noah shot Charles a smile and then looked back at his phone, while Ruth and Edie rushed in to greet him.

"I'll put our bags away," Erik said, and disappeared.

Charles already felt overwhelmed. "It's lovely to meet you all, thank you for inviting me to your home," he managed. He held out the box awkwardly. "Mrs Lehnsherr, we brought apple cake," he explained, feeling shy.

"Call me Edie, please!" she insisted, peering at the box. "Oh! My favourite! Thank you so much, zeeskeit!" she exclaimed, leaning over to kiss Charles on the head too. "We've heard so much about you!"

"No we haven't," Ruth complained, hugging Charles around the box. "Barely anything. Anyway, it's nice to finally meet you, Charles."

Edie shushed her. "Sit down, please" she offered. "Dinner is almost ready." She took the cake from Charles with a joyful smile, and disappeared into the kitchen again. Erik finally came back and squeezed Charles' arm as they headed towards the table.

"We knew something was up," Ruth said, as she ushered Charles into the chair next to hers. "Erik was being even weirder than usual."

"Shut up," Erik groaned, slumping into the chair on Charles' other side. "Give him a drink, at least. It took ages to get here." Ruth made a face a him, but started pouring them glasses of water from the bottle on the table.

"How did you two meet?" Ruth asked, as she handed them their drinks. "I can't imagine Erik is very approachable. Are you in the same class?"

Noah chuckled. "Don't you think you should wait until Edie is sitting down?" he prompted. "He's going to have to say it all again."

Charles took a deep breath.

~

"The food is excellent, Mrs Le— Edie," Charles said, after he finished a second helping of noodles. "Erik said you were an amazing cook."

"Aww, thank you," Edie said, patting Erik's shoulder. "I certainly made enough for him as a teenager. You should have seen what he could put away." She laughed. Charles giggled. Erik frowned.

"You should see what Charles eats," he started, "the ingredient lists alone—"

Be QUIET, Charles sent to him.

"I said the food at school must be terrible," Edie said reprovingly. "No wonder he appreciates a home-cooked meal." She turned away from Erik. "Does your mother cook?" she asked Charles.

"Oh no, not at all!" Charles laughed at the very idea. "The staff does all of that."

The table went quiet.

The who now?! Charles received from Erik. His eyebrows were inching into his hairline.

"Oh, that's nice," Edie said after a moment, with a weak smile.

Charles was sure he was bright red. "I mean, we had a cook, before, she was very kind to me a-as a child. And now there is a chef, um, but it's not like a team or something, they're just some ongoing… employees?" Erik winced. Charles felt like the food was coming back up his throat to choke him. "They're like family really, or Maria was, the cook, I don't really spend as much time there now…" He trailed off.

"Where did you say you live again?" Ruth asked.

"Er, right now?" Charles responded nervously. "Or do you mean the family estate?"

ESTATE? Erik's voice thundered through Charles' mind.

For fucks sake, Erik, Charles snapped back. You're not helping.

Ruth laughed, eyes wide. "The estate, I suppose!"

"It's in Westchester," Charles replied, sweating. "It's been in the family for a long time," he explained, not sure if that made things better or worse.

"Goodness!" said Edie. "Well, I hope you will be okay sleeping here tonight, I'm afraid it's not what you're used to."

"Not at all!" Charles protested. "I've stayed at boarding school, and college dorms, and my own apartment is basically just three rooms, it's—" He received a distinct impression from Erik of someone zipping their lips and throwing away the key. "Your home is lovely," he finished lamely.

"Well, thank you zeeskeit, you're very kind," Edie said in reply. "Would anyone like some dessert?"

~

"Aghh," Charles groaned, flinging himself onto Erik's twin bed on his stomach. He ran his hand along the covers and picked at a loose thread on the bedspread.

"Stop it," Erik said, sitting down to join him and swatting at his hand. "And stop stressing. It's fine."

They'd finished dessert, and Edie had refused to let them help with the dishes. After that, 'the kids' as Edie referred to them, piled on the couch to watch a movie. Until Ruth started digging out some old photo albums, and Erik decided that Charles really needed to see his room instead.

"What has your mother been calling me?" Charles asked. He assumed it was something nice, because she'd starting calling him that before he'd opened his stupid mouth. You never know though, he thought darkly, she might have hated you on sight.

"It just means sweetie," Erik replied, poking him in the side. "See, she likes you."

Charles sighed. Looking around the room, his eye was caught by a row of small metal figures that lined the top of the bookcase. "What are those?" he asked, getting up and walking over to them for a better look. "Did you make these?" Some looked cruder and simpler, shaped by a clumsier hand — a small dog and a gold-coloured menorah. Next to them were much more intricately wrought structures, and a wonderfully detailed bird.

Erik looked embarrassed. "Yeah," he admitted. "Mama really likes them, there were some in the living room too, I don't know if you saw." Charles shook his head, picking up the tiny catapult and looking at it in awe. He'd been too distracted by everything that was happening, and too caught up in his own misery, if he was totally honest.

Erik got up and joined Charles at the bookshelf, poking one of the less refined pieces. "I tried to go back and improve some of them later, but she got mad. She said they show how far I've come, and I should keep them like that so I don't forget."

"They're amazing," Charles said earnestly. "So beautiful."

Erik rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He put his arms around Charles' waist from behind. "You know what else is beautiful…"

Now Charles rolled his eyes, even though Erik couldn't see. "Billy Joe Armstrong?" he suggested, pointing at an old poster of Green Day peeling off a chest of drawers.

"Ha ha," Erik said flatly, leaning in to catch Charles' ear lobe between his teeth. "I'm amazed you know that one."

Charles shivered at the feeling of Erik's warm breath on his neck, and forgot to be offended.

"Erik…" he began.

There was a knock at the door, and Edie stuck her head in, just as they jumped apart.

"Ruth and Noah are leaving now, you should say goodbye," she suggested. "Oh, and I've set up the couch for you, liber," she said to Erik. "So it's ready when you are." She smiled at Charles. "I hope you'll be alright in here."

"Of course I will, thank you," said Charles quickly, trying not to look as guilty as he felt, even though they hadn't been doing anything, really. "Thank you for everything."

"Thanks Mama," Erik said. "Let's go," he said to Charles with a sigh.

~

After saying their goodbyes, and then goodnight to Edie, Erik headed into the bathroom for a shower. Charles poked around idly in his room, flipping through some books and laughing at the lyrics dug into the wooden desk with a ballpoint pen. Then Erik was back, shirtless, in a towel, which was very distracting, but Charles only managed to steal one kiss before being sent off to the bathroom himself. When he got back, feeling squeaky clean and minty fresh, Erik was lounging on his bed in a t-shirt and shorts.

"Ready for bed?" he asked.

Charles raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you sleeping on the couch?" he asked.

"Eventually," Erik replied, drawing out the word, and reaching out to Charles. "I just want to hug you, geez."

"Yeah, I bet," Charles said cheekily, but he walked over and allowed himself to be pulled into Erik's arms. For a few moments Erik just held him, planting an occasional kiss onto his hair.

"Are you okay now?" Erik asked. "Not still stressed about dinner?"

Charles sighed. "I didn't mean to, I feel stupid…"

Erik shook his head. "Please stop. It's fine. Us peasants just have difficulty relating to sort of thing—"

"Oh, shut up!" Charles retorted, giving him a playful shove. Erik used the fact that he was slightly off-balance to pull Charles on top of him. Erik leaned up and captured his lips in a kiss, soft and sweet. As a distraction technique, Charles rated it pretty highly.

When they broke apart, Charles giggled. "Have you made out with someone in this bed before?"

"No," Erik snorted. "I don't know when you think that would have happened."

"That's cute," Charles mused. "Erik's innocent, childhood bed."

Erik slid his hands to Charles' waist, and up under his sleep shirt. "Hmm, maybe not for long," he murmured. He leaned up to kiss Charles again, this time with more insistence. As Erik's tongue slid into Charles' mouth, he pushed his hips up to grind against him. Charles could feel Erik getting hard from the friction already, and he wasn't far behind.

"Erik," Charles breathed, scandalised. "We can't do that here."

"Can't we?" Erik asked, pulling Charles tighter against him and mouthing at his throat.

"Your mother is like two rooms away!" Charles reminded him. "What if she hears us?"

Erik considered for a moment. "Can't you check on her mind and make sure she's asleep?"

"I guess…" Charles hesitated.

"She wears earplugs to sleep too," Erik informed Charles. "It can be noisy here at night." He grazed Charles' ear with his lips. "Do you think you can be quiet?"

"Bloody hell," Charles muttered. Erik resumed rubbing against him, now kissing and licking down the side of neck, pausing to nip at his collar bones. Charles felt his resolve weakening. God, he feels so good.

Erik softly stroked his back as Charles gave in and rolled his hips down to meet Erik's, soft moans escaping them both.

Remember the first time? Erik asked, inside his head. He slid his hands into Charles' sleep pants and underwear, grasping his thighs and then holding on to his ass as he moved faster against him.

Charles sent back a pulse of desire tinged with embarrassment — he still wasn't completely over that humiliation yet, even though they'd been together many times since then.

Erik chuckled quietly against his shoulder. It was the hottest thing I'd done up until then, he confessed. You were so sexy.

Fuck, Erik, was all Charles could manage in return. He bit back whimpers as Erik's thrusts sped up and his fingers teased the top of his cleft, pressing into his sensitive skin. Erik's fingertips were dipping lower every time they circled around, and Charles trembled at his touch.

You really don't know how to be quiet, do you? Erik's mental voice was amused.

Your fault, Charles shot back, pulling slightly on Erik's hair in punishment.

He felt Erik shiver underneath him, and suddenly a small container of lube flew across the room and landed in Erik's hand. Charles chuckled in surprise as Erik held it upside down to reveal the metal stuck to it.

Convenient, Charles said dryly and Erik just smirked in response, pushing Charles' pants off his hips. Charles wriggled the rest of the way out of them as Erik removed his own shorts and slicked up his palm. Charles did a quick scan of the apartment to confirm that Edie was still asleep before he pulled back immediately and banished all thoughts of mothers from his mind.

Erik started to stroke them both together, and Charles kissed him again, so any sounds he couldn't hold in would be swallowed by his mouth. Charles' hand joined Erik's, gripping and sliding their cocks against each other. Erik's other hand went back to Charles' ass, stroking and teasing again. It was so close, stopping just short of where Charles wanted him to be. As he got nearer to the edge, more desperate, Charles felt himself pressing back into Erik's touch.

Erik paused what he was doing for a moment. Charles could feel his hot breath panting against his cheek.

Can I? Erik asked, surprisingly tentative. He didn't specify with words, but his intention was clear.

Charles buried his face in the junction between Erik's shoulder and his neck, biting his lip.

Yes.

Erik pulled away from him for a few seconds, to grab the bottle and pour more lube onto his fingers. Then he embraced Charles again, one arm around his waist, and the other reaching down, finally sliding his now slick middle finger against the pucker of Charles' asshole. Charles groaned into Erik's neck at the feeling, and resumed jerking them both off as Erik rubbed his fingertip in small circles around and over his hole. As they moved together, Erik's finger began to press harder and dip inside, eventually sliding in fairly easily. He gently pressed it further in, caressing and stroking Charles' inner walls. Charles gasped and rocked back against Erik with just as much fervour as he was thrusting into his hand.

"M-more," he moaned into Erik's ear. "I'm so fucking close, Erik…" He could feel Erik's cock twitch in response, and he obeyed immediately, sliding his finger out and then returning with two.

Charles had tried it before, on his own, but it didn't compare to how he felt now — sparks shooting down his spine at the dual sensations, Erik's long fingers reaching deeper than Charles' ever could, and then the overwhelming knowledge that Erik was inside him. There was more of a stretch and slight burn with two fingers, but Charles was so far gone it only added to the pleasure he was experiencing.

It only took a few more seconds before Charles couldn't hold back any longer, and came with a small cry. He spilled over his hand and Erik's stomach in long pulses, clenching around the fingers in his ass.

Erik's mind was awash with lust as his fingers slipped out of Charles and he took over stroking himself frantically. His orgasm followed close behind, thighs trembling with the force of his release.

They lay still, sweaty, panting and sated, for a few minutes.

That turned me on so much, Erik confessed. Even his mental voice sounded breathless.

Charles murmured in agreement, boneless and sleepy. Erik chuckled and attempted to clean them both up with the tissues on his bedside table.

"I should head out to the couch," he whispered to Charles, when he had done the best he could.

Charles grumbled, clinging to him. "Stay a bit longer," he implored drowsily.

Erik sighed, but settled in next to him, pulling the covers over both of them. "Just a bit."

~

The next morning, Charles woke up with a start. Erik was up and scrambling to pull on his clothes.

"Shit," he muttered.

"What's wrong?" Charles asked with a yawn, eyes bleary.

Erik grimaced. "I think Mama's awake."

Charles cast his mind out to the adjoining rooms. "She is," he confirmed. Then he winced.

"What?" Erik asked, looking concerned.

"She saw that no one slept on the couch," Charles explained. "She's thinking rather loudly…"

"About?" Erik demanded.

"Um, condoms mostly," Charles mumbled. And better earplugs.

"Fucking wonderful," Erik huffed. "Maybe I'll just stay in here then."

Charles laughed. "Great plan, she won't suspect a thing." He rolled his eyes at Erik's sulky look. "Don't be so childish. She's just worried about you. It's pretty sweet, really."

"Or maybe…" Erik said, looking cheeky and pleased with himself. Charles narrowed his eyes at him. "I'll tell her we don't need them, because you can't catch anything from virgins."

Charles grabbed Erik's pillow and launched it at his head. "How bloody dare you!" he yelled.

"Stop it!" Erik exclaimed, laughing. "She's going to hear that and think we're doing something worse."

Charles rolled his eyes. "We might as well, now," he sighed. "Already been caught."

Erik shook his head. "It's too easy to get carried away with you. Anyway, I need a shower." He opened the bedroom door and peered into the corridor. We'll save it for later, Erik sent with a mental grin, as he stepped out. For one of your three rooms.

Chapter Text

"Man, what happened to you?" Armando asked in disbelief.

"What?" Erik replied, with a frown. "What do you mean?"

Armando laughed, shaking his head. "You are different. What the hell was your summer?"

It was the day before classes started again, and Armando had just arrived in their new dorm, dragging his luggage. Erik had set up his side of the room already, and was now just lounging on his bed. He was texting Charles, who was meeting up with his friend Moira soon. Erik was not feeling slightly jealous of her time with Charles, or at least, that's what he was telling himself.

Erik didn't really think he was behaving abnormally, but then remembered that Armando had left before the party happened, before he'd even spoken to Charles. It had kinda been a crazy three months since that meeting; a whirlwind of new experiences and new concerns. He couldn't honestly say he felt the same way that he had at the beginning of the last school year. When he'd just been determined to achieve his goals, and ready to focus. It seemed like seriously dating someone had impacted him more than he'd expected.

"Oh," Erik said, once he'd realised what Armando might be referring to. "I have a boyfriend now."

Armando's mouth fell open. "Cool," he managed. Erik nodded. It was cool.

"Uh, it's a bit unexpected though," Armando added with a hint of amusement, sitting down on his bare mattress. "Considering the conversation we had before I left?"

Erik nodded again. "Things… changed."

"You're telling me," Armando laughed. "How did you even meet?"

Erik explained it all, but briefly — the cafe, the party, the movie date, meeting his family.

"That's great, man," Armando said, once he'd finished. He still seemed surprised, but also genuinely happy for him. "You seem good."

"How's your girlfriend?" Erik remembered to ask. "Was your summer fun?"

Armando sighed. "Not really. Balance in the universe, I guess." Erik tilted his head questioningly. "We broke up," Armando explained. "She's too busy, school is really intense, and she just wants to focus on that for now." He shrugged. "It sucks, but it was getting difficult, so. What are you gonna do."

"Shit," Erik said, regretting talking about Charles so much while his roommate was newly single. "I'm sorry."

Armando seemed circumspect, and laughingly suggested he'd use the opportunity to take on Erik's approach to studying. It wasn't like he'd been slack before, though. Erik felt a niggle when considering his own slightly diminished motivation, now that he had his first significant distraction. He'd have to make sure to keep his head in the game, and not lose sight of his goals. As well as things were going now, he could never be sure what would happen with Charles after college, and he'd never forgive himself for not following through on his plans. He wanted his family to be able to rely on him, and he'd regret it forever if he let them down. Surely I haven't changed that much, he thought to himself.

The first weeks back in classes proceeded smoothly. Erik was doing pretty well at maintaining his high academic standards from before, even when Charles pouted about his less-than-frequent visits to his apartment.

"We aren't all geniuses," Erik reminded him. "And I have to keep my GPA for the scholarship."

Charles had mournfully said he understood, but he looked so sad that Erik found himself resorting to physical methods to cheer him up. Which happily sent Charles into near-incoherence — always a feat that Erik could feel proud of. Unfortunately it only increased Erik's desire to see him more often, but he was doing the best he could. In bed, and out of it.

Edie had given Erik another excruciating safe-sex, 'are you using condoms' talk after Charles' visit, but he'd just agreed with everything she'd said to get it over with as quickly as possible. She had seemed a little bewildered by Charles, probably because none of them had ever met someone that lived like him before, but she called him a 'sweet boy' and had encouraged Erik to 'be careful'. He was pretty sure that was still referring to the sex.

In comparison, Ruth wouldn't shut up about how amazing the whole thing was. She'd been searching the Xavier family online, much to Erik's chagrin.

"He's like a little prince!" she enthused. "What does he see in you?" Erik was unimpressed. "It's like a movie, you know the one."

"No," Erik ground out. "I presume it has a prince in it?"

Ruth nodded her head. "With Julia Stiles, you know the one."

"What?" Erik replied, getting more irritated. "10 Things I Hate—"

"The Prince and Me!" Ruth cheered. "That's the one! 'Chemistry isn't just in class, kiddo' or, or, um, 'I've never felt this way before,'" she quoted in a sing-song voice.

"Shut the hell up," Erik shot back, and left the room.

~

Erik was back working at the cafe too, and Charles was spending an increasing amount of time studying there. Alex and Angel were delighted, mostly for the comedic potential of them interacting with each other, but Charles was just a gentle, warm presence in Erik's mind as he worked. He only occasionally sent small bursts of irritated possessiveness when a customer got too flirty. Erik liked it too much to suggest he should really be studying in his quiet, expensive apartment instead. And he preferred Charles bringing Moira to the cafe over them hanging out as his place without Erik. He knew he had nothing to worry about there, but he still felt somehow left out when they did that.

Armando was also hanging around the cafe more frequently — Erik had noticed he was a bit down since the break-up, despite his earlier stoicism, and had encouraged him to connect with some fellow mutants to take his mind off it. Armando and Alex appeared to get on well, to Erik's surprise, but he figured that if some of Armando's responsible attitude rubbed off on him it might not be the worst thing.

Before Erik knew it, Charles' birthday was approaching rapidly.

"What do you want to do?" he'd asked tentatively, knowing that Charles would probably be used to lavish celebrations and expensive gifts.

But Charles surprised him. "Just come over," he said. "Can you stay on the Friday night? Then I can wake up with you, and we have the whole day."

Erik grimaced. "I have to work until eight on Friday…"

"That's fine," Charles said with a smile. "I just want you there."

Erik felt uncomfortable as he took the elevator up to the apartment, the night before Charles' birthday. He was still in his work clothes and felt sweaty, with a light dusting of coffee grounds across his t-shirt, and he was desperate for a shower. His backpack was over his shoulder, and he carried a cupcake, with a lone candle stuck in the top, in one of the cafe's takeaway containers. Angel had teased him mercilessly, but he hadn't felt right turning up empty handed. In the past few weeks Charles had assured him several times that he really didn't want a present, but he figured some cake would be okay. Charles hadn't turned down sweets yet. Erik's stomach grumbled just thinking about any kind of food. A rush on orders had robbed him of most of his break.

Charles opened the door to his apartment before Erik knocked.

"I felt you arriving," he explained, smiling a little shyly. "I hope that's okay."

Erik nodded dumbly, mesmerised by the sight in front of him. Charles always looked good, but right now he was practically mouthwatering. He'd clearly recently come out of the shower, and his skin was still moist and slightly pink. His hair was slightly mussed, and his eyes were shining up at Erik in their brilliant blue. They must have been enhanced by the tones in the shirt he was wearing, something navy in a silky fabric, that Erik couldn't wait to get his hands on.

"You look… I mean, just wow."

Charles blushed and grinned at him. "Is this for me?" he asked, glancing down at the sad-looking cupcake, visible through the plastic box, and accepting it gratefully. "You're so sweet."

Erik shook his head, abashed. "I just wanted to bring something," he said, as Charles let him in, "Happy almost-birthday."

Charles put the cake down on the counter and leaned in to kiss him.

Erik gently pulled back after a few seconds. "Sorry," he explained, "I really need a shower, I'm sure I smell bad."

Charles laughed. "I like the way you smell. But go ahead. You know where everything is."

As Erik headed to the bathroom, he heard his stomach gurgle again. "Do you want to order some food while I'm showering?" he asked.

Charles chewed his lip. "Do you mind waiting for a bit?" he asked apologetically. "I kinda have a plan…"

"Okay, sure," Erik hastened to reply, intrigued. "I won't be long."

~

When Erik exited the bathroom, Charles was no longer in the living area. He could see the light was on in the bedroom, even though the door was closed.

"Charles?" he called out, through the door.

"Come in!" Charles replied. His voice sounded slightly shaky and Erik was briefly alarmed until he pushed the door open. Then he stopped short.

Charles was laying in the middle of the bed, head propped up by the pillows. He'd taken off his jeans and was just in his underwear, but he'd kept the shirt on, only partially unbuttoned. He was biting his lip, and Erik couldn't get there fast enough to take over, practically launching himself at Charles and claiming his lips in an instantly filthy kiss.

"Erik, mmph, wait, Erik," Charles said, laughing, as soon as he managed to pull away.

"Sorry," Erik said, already somewhat dazed, and unable to stop touching him. "You had a plan?"

"Yes," Charles replied, a shadow of anxiety quickly flitting across his brow. He took a deep breath. "I want you to fuck me," he said.

Erik's brain temporarily shorted out. The words, somehow exponentially hotter in Charles' accent, rang in his ears, although he was temporarily unable to fully grasp them.

"Ah," Erik said intelligently. "Wait, what?"

"I want you to fuck me," Charles repeated. Then he looked worried again. "Do you… do you want to? I thought you would, but maybe—"

"I want to," Erik interrupted. "I really… I want to."

"Oh," Charles replied, with a smile. "Good." He wriggled a little way out from under Erik, to open a drawer in his bedside table. Erik was briefly distracted, watching his ass as he moved, but then his mouth fell open as Charles removed the largest bottle of lube Erik had ever seen in his life. It had already been opened, and there was a clear amount already missing. Charles giggled nervously at Erik's look of shock. "I've been practising," he confessed.

"Excuse me?" Erik asked, dumbfounded. "You've been what?"

"Er…" Charles seemed confused by Erik's reaction. He pulled the draw open further, revealing a silicone plug.

Erik blinked, feeling his cock swell as he thought about Charles, alone in his apartment, practising. He was suddenly hit by a different emotion. He tried to keep the petulant tone out of his voice. "Without me?" he asked, reproachful.

Charles snorted. "Have you seen your dick lately?" he protested. "I want to be able to sit down tomorrow. I read all about it, and it said this would help. So we both feel good."

Erik frowned, but it was true that he didn't want to hurt Charles if he could help it. Still, they could have prepared together. You've been too busy to come over recently though, he reminded himself.

"I thought of you," Charles added, either guessing or actually picking up on Erik's train of thought. He came back closer and stroked Erik's thighs, and then up to his sides. He looked up at Erik under his lashes. "I thought about you, and how it would feel," he whispered, "when you are actually… inside me."

Erik felt his hands tremble and all thoughts of jealousy fled his brain. In fact, most of the thoughts fled his brain.

"Charles," he choked out, and they were kissing again, and he was free to touch everywhere he wanted, pressing him down into the mattress.

After a while, when they were both panting and gasping, clothing discarded, Charles pushed back at him again with his hands. "Erik," he breathed, "Can we… I want… I need more now…"

Erik started working his way down Charles' body, kissing and nibbling down his stomach and around the top of his thighs. Charles moved restlessly until Erik gave in and took his cock into his mouth, sucking him lightly and teasing the tip with his tongue.

"Eriik," Charles whined impatiently, after a few moments.

Erik chuckled to himself. Even though he'd been in a rush when they began, there was something very enjoyable about drawing this part out, and making Charles plead for more.

"Well, if that's not enough for you, I have another idea," Erik suggested, mouthing at his balls and then continuing to lick his way down, lower each time.

"Oh my god," Charles moaned. "Erik…" Erik pushed Charles' legs back for better access, and as his tongue finally laved over Charles' pucker, he let out a strangled moan.

Jesus fucking Christ, Charles said in Erik's mind, unable to form the actual words, and barely registered the answering burst of amusement and smugness from Erik.

Fuck, you taste so good, Erik sent back, and Charles' back arched off the bed. As the muscle started to relax and Erik's tongue dipped past the rim, a keening sound escaped from Charles' throat.

Erik flipped Charles onto his front and pulled him closer by the hips. Charles let out a gasp as he was manhandled into position, which Erik filed away for a later opportunity, and then dove back in with renewed enthusiasm. Within a few minutes, Charles was moaning loudly, pushing back against Erik's face, his cock dripping steadily onto his sheets as he mindlessly tried to rut against them.

"Erik, please," he whimpered. "I don't want to come, before…"

Erik pulled back and wiped his chin with his hand. "Won't it help?" he asked. "To relax?"

"No," Charles said peevishly, "can you use your fingers now? Just to make sure I'm ready. Please."

"Okay," Erik agreed. "I'll just go and brush my—"

"I don't care!" Charles groaned. "Hurry up." He turned his head to look over his shoulders and Erik was hit with the full force of his desperate gaze.

"Okay," Erik repeated, surging forward to kiss him quickly, and then hurrying to coat his fingers with lube. Maybe he had been teasing him too much.

Charles sank his head back onto his folded arms, and moaned quietly as Erik ran his fingertips down his already dripping wet cleft, and rubbed them gently around his rim. One finger slipped in easily, and Erik moved it tentatively in and out, like he had done a few times before.

"Good," Charles breathed. "More."

Erik took a breath and added a finger to his next slow thrust. Charles moaned in approval. Erik rubbed and twisted his fingers slightly, then started to speed up. Usually Charles was jerking himself off at the same time and came pretty quickly on his fingers. Erik wasn't sure hot to properly prepare him for his dick. Charles shook his head.

"Slow down again," he ordered. "Sort of tap and rub, yes like that…" He groaned again. "Can you feel that? It's like, different, there, a bit lower…"

"Here?" Erik asked desperately, trying to follow the instructions, distracted by the tight heat around his fingers, the beads of sweat on Charles' back. It was evident Charles had done some more 'research' on this part, he'd never taken charge that way before. Erik was grateful though; he really wanted it to be good.

"Fuck!" Charles cried out, moving restlessly. "Yes, there, oh god, fuck, yes."

Erik's mouth went dry at how wrecked Charles sounded. He wanted him so much he thought he might die of it. He kept moving his fingers, but let go of Charles' hip so he could use his other hand to squeeze his own neglected cock. If they kept this up for much longer…

"Stop," Charles groaned a few moments later, moving off Erik's fingers. Erik stilled instantly and slid his fingers out of Charles, almost relieved. "I'm definitely ready," Charles panted. "I need you now."

Erik's cock twitched at the words, and he shuddered with barely controlled lust as Charles grabbed the lube, squirted some onto his palm, and started to stroke him, slicking him up.

Focus, he told himself. "How do you want to…" Erik began, sure that Charles would have a plan for that too.

"On our sides, you behind me," Charles replied assuredly, although he was looking slightly nervous again, through the haze of desire. "It'll be easier that way, I r—"

"Read about it?" Erik interrupted teasingly. "I'm shocked."

Charles' brow creased. "Don't make fun of me," he pouted.

"I'm not," Erik replied hurriedly. "It's so hot, you're so hot." He gently manoeuvred them onto their sides, pressing himself against Charles' back, and groaning as his dick slid against his skin. He kissed his shoulder, licking the sweat from the nape of his neck. "You're incredible. I want you so badly," he whispered.

Charles whimpered and reached back around Erik's waist, grabbing his ass and pulling him closer. He rocked up and down Erik's length, and Erik hissed as it slipped in between his cheeks.

"I want you inside me," Charles murmured, pulling one bent knee up closer to his chest.

Erik took a breath and pulled back a little, reaching down between them to line himself up. He suddenly felt panicky, his heart rate increasing. He shook his head briefly, as if to clear it, put one hand on Charles' hip to hold him steady, and started to push lightly against Charles' hole. He felt Charles begin to press back gingerly, so he kept going, breathing shakily as the muscles slowly stretched and relaxed around the head of his cock and it slid in. Erik exhaled deeply and paused, resting his head against Charles' back.

"Fuck," he groaned.

Charles wriggled slightly against him. "Erik," he panted, "keep going. I'm okay, it's fine."

"Uh-huh," Erik gritted out, holding on to both of his hips as he went back to pressing inside him.

He moved slowly, but steadily, trying to keep the experience smooth for Charles while almost wincing at how tight he was, feeling utterly surrounded by the heat of him. He realised Charles was tensing up and paused again, rubbing his hands along Charles' sides.

"Relax," he said gently. "Try and breathe, I think it will help."

"You relax," Charles snapped in return, and Erik was taken aback for a second.

"Do you want me to stop?" Erik asked with concern. "I'll pull out…"

"Don't you fucking dare," Charles huffed, and despite himself Erik could feel him take a few deep breaths. Erik breathed too, as he felt his grip relax.

Erik slid back, just a little, and then pushed forward again. This time he made it all the way in, and they both groaned as Erik's hips pressed flush up against Charles' ass.

Only a few seconds later, Charles shifted slightly under him. "I'm fine, keep going," he repeated, breathlessly.

"Yeah, well, I need a second," Erik bit out, trying not to come right away, to adjust to the feeling, even the thought. Inside Charles, his brain supplied helpfully. Inside of Charles. He found himself briefly wishing they had used a condom — for the potential sensation-dulling effect alone.

Erik kept mostly still for a moment, just shifting a little to grasp Charles around the waist with both arms, then moving one hand up to hold his chest, keeping them pressed together. Erik could hear his shaky breaths as they lay there in silence.

"Okay?" Erik asked finally, and Charles hummed in agreement.

"Please," he whispered. Erik started to move.

He still couldn't quite believe it was happening, as they moved together, Erik rocking in and out of Charles, feeling Charles tremble around him and hearing him moan with every thrust. Erik tried to stay gentle and in control as he hurtled towards the edge, hanging on to Charles for dear life. He realised Charles was jerking himself off as Erik continued to push inside him, and his hips bucked up involuntarily, wrenching a cry out of Charles.

"Fuck, I'm so close," Erik groaned, his hips moving mindlessly. So close, so… He tensed, burying his face into Charles' neck and shuddering as he came inside him. It felt so good as he continued to thrust through his orgasm, knowing he was filling Charles up with his come, making him completely his.

It only took a few more seconds, and Charles was coming into his fist, moaning louder than Erik had ever heard, and clenching around Erik to the point it bordered on painful.

When Charles' breaths started to even out, Erik kissed the side of his neck, and started to ease his softening cock out of him. Charles hissed quietly and grabbed Erik's arm as he slid out, and then fell back against him with a sigh.

"Are you okay?" Erik asked softly, pushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead and kissing the side of his face.

"Mmhmm," Charles replied, with a small smile. He closed his eyes and sighed happily. Erik chuckled. Charles' eyes opened again. "Did you like it?" he asked, turning his head to look at Erik.

"Uh, yes," Erik replied. "I… yes."

"Me too," said Charles, with a grin. Erik let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

Suddenly, Charles' stomach growled loudly. "Shhh," he grumbled, grabbing his belly and blushing.

Erik laughed. "Sounds like you need some dinner now? I'm starving too." He noticed he was, again, now that other parts of his body weren't clamouring for attention.

Charles pouted. "I suppose."

"Wait here," Erik said, starting to disentangle himself. "I'll get you a towel or something…"

Charles sighed. "I think I need another shower. I'm very… sticky."

"Come on then," Erik said, gathering him up in his arms. "Let's get you clean."

~

After their shower, they ordered dinner and ate on the couch in front of the TV. Erik was hyper aware of any slightly pained expression Charles might be displaying until he got told off for being overprotective.

"I can't believe you had that all planned," Erik laughed. "It was very impressive. I did not expect it, like, at all."

Charles' cheeks turned pink, but he was smiling. "You were so shocked," he teased. "Like Home Alone." He mimicked Macaulay Culkin's famous open-mouthed expression, with hands on either side of his face.

Erik wrinkled his nose. "You were very sneaky, what with all your research and practice."

"I just wanted it to be good," Charles said with a small shrug. "And I wanted to do it while I was still eighteen."

"Why?" Erik burst out laughing. Charles shrugged again, and Erik shook his head. "You're so weird."

"What's wrong with birthday sex?" Charles grouched, adorably.

Erik was still laughing. "I mean, there are definitely worse things to do," he conceded. "I'm not complaining."

"Exactly," Charles sniffed, and lay back against Erik's chest.

"Will you talk to your family tomorrow?" Erik asked, running his fingers through Charles' still slightly damp hair.

Charles laughed. "Raven, probably. Sharon won't remember, but one of the PAs might send something."

Erik shook his head in disbelief. Charles didn't even sound bitter.

~

When they were tucked in bed, and Charles was yawning against his chest as they snuggled, Erik noticed the time on the digital clock.

"Hey, look," he said. "It's your birthday! Happy birthday, schatzi." He kissed Charles and tried not to feel embarrassed. He'd never used that endearment before, it had just come out. And it felt kind of nice.

Charles kissed him back and then smiled at him. He opened his mouth, paused, and then shut it again.

"What is it?" Erik asked. "Anything for the birthday boy," he joked.

Charles bit his lip. "I know it's probably too soon," he began, "and I know you're not supposed to, after sex, and everything…" Erik waited, not quite following. Charles seemed to know about lots of rules that Erik had never heard of. "But, I guess I want to say it anyway." Charles took a deep breath. "I think…I love you. Basically. That's what I… I love you."

Erik's heart was hammering in his chest as he squeezed Charles tighter. Part of him felt out of control, like everything that had been happening recently was just a crazy dream. The other part of him felt calm, like this was exactly where he was supposed to be, right now. He didn't know which part was right; maybe it was both of them at once.

"I love you too, Charles," he replied.

The following weeks sped past, busy with classes and study, but Erik felt closer to Charles than ever. Something had shifted since their love confessions — they were more relaxed with each other somehow, as well as enthusiastically exploring the new addition to their sexual repertoire. The privacy that Charles' apartment afforded them was not being underappreciated, and the three room 'achievable goal' had been surpassed many times over. They were basically old news now; even their friends had stopped teasing them as much when they walked into the cafe holding hands, although Armando would still give Erik a knowing look every time his own bed had been neglected for a couple days.

Erik was still managing his studies, if not with the exact same rigour as before, and found himself doing pretty well at ignoring Charles' family circumstances again too. A gift basket had turned up at the apartment for Charles' birthday, with an impersonal, typed card. It contained expensive cologne and skin-care products, plus a bunch of fruits that Charles didn't like. Charles hadn't seem bothered — at least, he hadn't shown it outwardly — declaring that he'd already received the best present he could ask for. It was such a cute thing to say that Erik didn't even try and make a joke about it being his dick.

Before long they were nearing the winter break, and most of the students in their year were considering their options for summer internships. Erik had a few companies in mind that he was hoping to apply to, but he was concerned about travel distances making his days impossibly long. He was lucky that most engineering internships were paid, considering the effort he was going to have to put in to get there. Charles was going to be completing his internship at Columbia, already invited by his genetics professor, so he didn't have anything to worry about.

"I know I haven't exactly made the best case for them so far," Charles began, during one discussion where Erik was getting frustrated about his options, "but Xavier Corp. does have an engineering division."

Erik raised his eyebrows. "And? Isn't your whole life plan based on avoiding working for them?"

Charles sighed. "Not quite, but anyway that's different. Being stuck on the board of directors for something you don't believe in isn't the same as getting relevant work experience with a company that'll look good on your CV."

"Not if I'm dating their son, it won't," Erik said dismissively. He shook his head. "It's better if I stay away."

"Who would know or care about that? It wouldn't be as far as some of the places you've been looking at," Charles argued. "They'd probably pay better too."

Erik huffed out a breath. Of course those aspects were tempting. But he didn't think he could get over the connection, being reminded every day that Charles basically owned it all. It was too weird. "I don't think it's a good idea, schatzi," he replied, invoking the pet name for extra bargaining power.

"Just have a look at their programs as well," Charles insisted, with imploring eyes. "I know it's important to you to leave here with a job. I only want the best for you, you know that."

And your family is the best? Erik thought sarcastically, but stopped himself from saying it. He was sure Charles only had good intentions. "Okay," he replied, because he didn't want to argue about it anymore.

~

Erik was planning on heading home even before the winter holidays, to celebrate Thanksgiving and then Hanukkah with his family. He'd come back on campus for exam week, and then go home again until January. Charles was going to join him for Thanksgiving, but otherwise was planning to spend as much of the break as possible at his apartment. He complained that he wouldn't be able to get out of the Xavier Christmas though, no matter what else he had planned. He wanted to see Raven again, surprised that it had already been five months since they'd caught up in person, but Erik could tell that he was dreading the rest. He wasn't sure if there was anything he could do, so he just tried to distract Charles as much as possible when he was free.

Erik's mother happily introduced Charles to the friends she had managed to pack into their apartment for a kosher Thanksgiving feast, praising the 'clever boys, so busy with college'. Charles was less awkward, but maybe just as overwhelmed, with even more noise and food than last time. He and Ruth appeared to get on well though, even if Erik was afraid of what she might be telling him as they chattered away in the corner.

Edie had also borrowed an air mattress for Erik to put on the floor of his room, instead of setting up the couch. "There's not enough room in that bed, shefele," she'd insisted, and Erik didn't argue. He and Charles had made good use of his spacious shower the night before, and were resolved to behave themselves this time around, for everyone's sake.

When Charles has gone home, Erik asked his mother if it had been hard for her — having to reveal over and over again to all her neighbours and friends that her son was dating a guy now. He knew some of them were more conservative than others, and hated to think of her being ostracised on his behalf.

"Liber," she'd said, patting his arm, "nothing done for your happiness is hard for me."

"But Mama," he'd insisted, "I don't want you to lose friends because of something I've done."

"If they'd judge us for this," she'd replied firmly, "they're not my friends."

~

Once the term finally finished, and all his family events were concluded, Erik spent the weekend at Charles' apartment again. He made coffee (for him) and hot chocolate (for Charles), and they were about to cuddle on the couch while watching Die Hard, which Erik insisted was a Christmas movie. Other films in that genre were pretty hard for him to tolerate, despite Charles' enjoyment of all things Hallmark. Charles could watch them with Raven in the coming week.

"How long do you have to stay with your parents again?" he asked Charles. Christmas Eve was only three days away.

Charles made a face. "Hopefully only a few days. If I get there sometime in the afternoon the day before, then Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day. If I have to stay until New Year's, I'll lose my mind."

Erik chuckled sympathetically and brought him his drink. "And all the corporate shit is done by Christmas, right?"

Charles sipped his cocoa. "Mm that's Christmas Eve, we get paraded around to god knows who, whoever's important at the moment. Not like with your mother — no one actually cares as long as we smile and reflect the proper family image. And then everyone gets drunk and there's a band and a buffet and fireworks for the kids." Erik shook his head in amazement as he went to retrieve his coffee. No wonder they need a bloody estate, he thought. But I suppose that part came first. "Christmas Day is just wonderful family peace and good cheer," Charles continued sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Erik kissed his cheek as he settled down on the couch. "At least it'll be over soon." He reached for the remote to start the movie. "And if it's getting too much, you can always just call me."

Charles chuckled. "You might end up regretting that offer."

Chapter Text

Charles held out for as long as he could. He had a tolerable time on Christmas Eve making fun of guests and stealing drinks with Raven, and got through the strained family Christmas lunch without too much emotional damage. Raven was in pretty high spirits, only one term left of high school for her and myriad possibilities at her fingertips. But now it was December 30th and Charles was still stuck in Westchester. His mother and Kurt had sprung some surprise guests on them — some business associate and his family — and Charles was being forced to entertain their son, Cameron. He was fine — a little bland and pretentious, studying pre-law at Yale, and given to providing unprompted opinions. But Charles was thoroughly sick of small talk and smiling through tiresome dinner discussions about the problems of the modern world. Especially when those cliched talking points always swung around to blaming young people or minorities for the impending state of moral decay.

Raven had been pestering him a fair bit, wanting to know more about his new boyfriend. It was sweet, really — she seemed equal parts happy and scared for him. For a long time they'd only had each other to confide in, especially as mutants. He'd already created a new photo album on his phone for pictures of him and Erik together that he could show her to satisfy her curiosity, as most of the photos Charles had in his camera roll now were decidedly NSFR (Not Safe For Raven). Unfortunately Erik seemed to have two modes for posing for photos — looking like he was forced to smile through threat of violence, or such a big smile he looked slightly unhinged. He assured Raven he was really just a normal, nice boyfriend, but he wasn't sure she was convinced yet.

He'd been texting Erik too, but it definitely wasn't the same as seeing him in person or even hearing his voice. He couldn't believe how they'd managed so much time apart when they'd started dating. Charles didn't want to seem clingy, but by December thirtieth, facing a tedious New Year's Eve and now more than a week without Erik, Charles gave in.

Erik answered his phone within the first few rings.

"Everything okay?" he asked immediately, with his usual abruptness.

"No," Charles wailed. "I'm going insane."

Erik laughed. "Going?" he teased.

"Yes, yes, very funny," Charles sighed. "Would you…" he began tentatively, "would you consider… coming here? For New Years? I know it's a lot to ask. I just can't leave, and I miss you, and I don't want to spend another New Year's Eve going to bed early in a state of mild to moderate depression, and—"

"Breathe, Charles," Erik interjected. "I…" He seemed hesitant. "I suppose I could… I miss you too."

"Really?" Charles perked up.

Erik paused. "For the one night, right?"

"Yes, definitely," Charles hurried to answer. "One night, one dinner. Raven's dying to meet you too, and I can send a car to pick you up so it's not a huge pain to get here—"

"Charles," Erik interrupted again, "you are aware that isn't something normal people say or do?"

"Oh," Charles replied. "I guess, but if it makes things easier, why not do it? Because I can, I mean."

"No thanks," Erik said shortly. "I'm pretty sure I can manage that." He paused again. "Your parents… I'd be meeting them too?"

Charles grimaced to himself. "Ye-es, but it would be the one dinner, really, like I said. And they have these other boring guests too, so the focus wouldn't be on you. After that we can do whatever, just you and me and Raven for a bit. And maybe Cameron, but hopefully he has plans of his own—"

"Who the hell is Cameron?" Erik exclaimed.

"Son of said boring guests," Charles explained. "I've been babysitting him for days—"

"Oh, he's a kid," Erik replied, in a relieved tone.

"Um, no, our age, basically," said Charles. "But he's a boring rich guy who thinks he's God's gift—"

"What time do you want me to get there?" Erik demanded.

The next day, Charles made sure to be on standby to answer the door before any member of staff got there, picking up when Erik's consciousness got close by. He'd told his parents that his boyfriend was coming for New Year's, but they were happy to leave the introductions until dinner. They were not suited to potentially emotional scenes.

"You're here!" Charles greeted Erik with a grin, throwing open the door and going in for a hug immediately, squeezing all his feelings into the embrace.

Erik looked adorable, all rugged up for the cold weather in a coat and scarf, his nose a little pink. Charles wanted to warm him up.

When he pulled back he noticed that Erik looked somewhat shell-shocked.

"You live here?" Erik asked incredulously, looking up at the foyer interior like someone who had just been beamed into a spaceship.

Here we go, Charles thought, you knew it was coming.

"You know where I live," Charles joked, "because you're there half the week. Welcome to my parents' home."

"It feels like I should have been charged an entry fee to be allowed in," Erik muttered as he took off his coat. "Even the Uber guy was kinda freaked out."

Charles chuckled nervously. "I'll sneak you in for free, I know the owners," he joked awkwardly.

Erik's eyebrows were still somewhere near his hairline. Luckily they were interrupted by Raven clattering down the staircase with an excited cheer.

"He really exists!" she exclaimed. Charles rolled his eyes. "Hm, better looking in person," she remarked, looking Erik up and down.

"Wow," Charles muttered. "Your subtlety astounds me."

"Hey, I'm impressed!" Raven shot back. "I don't know how you managed to snag him, honestly."

"I'm right here," Erik reminded them, amused.

With a sigh, Charles introduced them properly and the started leading Erik to his room, so he could put down his bag and get settled.

"Stealing him away already?" Raven complained. "When do I get the embarrassing stories?"

"Never," Charles yelled over his shoulder.

"Later," Erik laughed, at the same time.

Raven looked satisfied as she waved them off. "Alright, you horn dogs. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she called out to Charles with two thumbs up. He groaned in response.

"Sorry about her," Charles said to Erik, feeling a little shy as they padded down the corridor. "I presume you don't really want a tour or anything." He felt like he was viewing everything with Erik's critical eyes and cringing any time something looked particularly ostentatious. A piece of art, or a sculpture, half a dozen doors, a chandelier.

"Uh, probably not," Erik agreed, looking warily around them.

"Great," Charles responded as they reached his room. He pushed the door open and ushered Erik in. "Then we can do this instead." Erik barely had time to drop his bag before Charles pushed him up against the wall and kissed him hungrily.

Erik kissed him back for a moment, then gently pulled away. "Let me get this stuff off," he laughed, "and shut the door." He waved a hand and the door closed itself, the lock clicking into place. Charles always enjoyed watching his powers at work, even if he hadn't really been concerned that anyone would disturb them.

Charles eyed Erik as he waited for him to remove his shoes and scarf. "You can keep going, you know," he said flirtatiously. "It's been far too long." He didn't know how, but it seemed to get better every time. He really hadn't been able to stop thinking about getting his hands on Erik again all week.

Erik smirked at him. "Oh?"

Charles nodded and leaned back in, helping him undo his buttons. "I'm going to go down on you first," he murmured, "and then, I'm going to ride you into the mattress."

Erik swallowed, eyes wide. "Fuck."

Charles nodded again. "Exactly."

~

As he fell panting into the tangled sheets, Charles was pleased with himself.

"Another childhood bed desecrated," he said gleefully.

Erik snorted. "I can't believe I ever thought you looked innocent," he laughed, still breathing hard.

"I do look innocent," Charles retorted, smiling his sweetest smile.

Erik laughed, and rolled onto his side, pulling Charles into his arms. "Yet here you are, distracting me from this insane castle with your body."

Charles rolled his eyes. "Well, as long as it worked."

"Mm, maybe," Erik replied, kissing his neck softly.

"I'm not sure about this dinner, Charles," Erik said, looking tense, as the made their way down the corridor. The distraction had seemed to be working, up until now.

"Hey, you aren't the one who'll have trouble sitting down," Charles joked, trying to lighten the mood. He poked Erik in the side. "It'll be fine, and not that long. At the worst it will probably be boring, and then we can go and do our own thing."

Erik seemed unconvinced. "You can talk to me here," Charles added, pointing to his temple. "Just like with your family."

"You think I'm going to mess up?" Erik asked defensively.

Charles sighed. "No, of course not. It's not like with your mother, you don't need to impress them. I'm not convinced it's possible anyway," he chuckled. "It's just so we can have our own, more interesting, conversation."

"Right," Erik muttered. "Okay."

~

As Charles had planned, by the time they got to the dining room, the rest of the company was already there and pouring themselves drinks. Charles knew how Erik felt about small talk, and with this group it could only be more of a liability. He hoped they were at the point of drinking where they were relaxed enough to not be uptight, but not at the point of saying something out of pocket.

"This is my boyfriend, Erik," Charles announced to the assembled group, and then led him around for the proper introductions. He noticed Erik eyeing Cameron suspiciously, a stubborn set to his features.

Don't be silly, Charles sent playfully, and let me show you off.

His family's guests thankfully just smiled politely and shook hands with a murmur of 'it's nice to meet you', but he knew Kurt and Sharon probably wouldn't be that easy.

"Oh yes, the boy from Columbia," Sharon said disinterestedly, balancing a martini glass in her hand as she leaned in to kiss the air next to Erik's cheek. "How delightful."

Erik looked terribly uncomfortable with even that amount of closeness, so Charles sent him a small pulse of soothing affection. Erik gave him a tight smile in return.

Kurt proffered his hand. "Ah, Charles' 'friend'. What was it your parents do?"

Jesus Christ, Charles thought.

"My father is dead," Erik stated flatly, looking Kurt in the face. "And my mother sells flowers." Charles noted the deliberately exaggerated downplaying of Edie's busy florist business with amusement.

Kurt looked perplexed about what to say back to that. "Strong handshake," he muttered, and then turned to Sharon. "It must be time to sit down?"

Charles tugged Erik over to Raven with a sigh of relief. "Well, that part's over," he said brightly, "all downhill from here!" Raven laughed and Erik cocked an eyebrow, still projecting a sense of defiance. "In the sense that it will get easier," Charles added hastily, "not that it's going ba— oh look, he comes the food!"

Charles sat Erik between him and Raven and hoped everyone else at the table was feeling particularly chatty. Erik looked like he was getting tenser by the minute as the food was served.

He frowned at his cutlery. Is this going to be like the fucking Titanic? he asked Charles.

Charles stifled a laugh. I can't believe you've seen that one.

Everybody saw that one, Erik said dismissively. And there was definitely enough room for Jack on the door.

Charles was grateful that nobody seemed to be opining on any controversial topics tonight, and between their telepathic dialogue and whatever Raven was gossiping to him about, Erik seemed too distracted to be stressing out further. It was actually the best scenario to end up introducing Erik, Charles thought, with Kurt and Sharon more interested in their other guests to be asking him more questions out of feigned politeness.

That was until they were partway through their main dishes, when Cameron suddenly took it upon himself to fill a short lull in the conversation.

"What was it you were studying at Columbia, Erik?" he asked. "Not something terribly niche and theoretical like Charles, I hope?"

Charles stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Of course, there's nothing less useful to society than science, you stupid troglodyte.

"Engineering," Erik replied shortly, and went back to his chicken.

"Oh, that's nice," Cameron's mother enthused. "You did some engineering in your undergraduate didn't you, Mark?"

Mark nodded. "Oh yes, indeed. Quite a broadly applicable field, that. Where do you hope to go with it?" he asked Erik.

Erik shrugged, clearly not relishing the opportunity of being the topic of conversation. "I'm majoring in mechanical engineering, looking at aviation infrastructure, transport and construction," he explained, "I guess it also depends on where I get to go for my internship this year, what I end up getting experience in."

Kurt laughed arrogantly, drawing the attention of his fellow diners. "You shouldn't be leaving it so late to decide! A man should know what his goals are, and go after them with every fibre of his being. Otherwise you'll never get anywhere."

The tension in Erik's jaw returned. "Sure," he replied.

Ignore him, Charles sent. He's an idiot who's only achievement is going after someone else's money.

Kurt snorted. "Well, where are you applying for your internship?"

"I've got a shortlist," Erik said coldly in reply, not offering anything further.

"You hardly sound serious at all," Kurt laughed. "You'll need to get your act together to have any chance at competing with—"

"Alright, darling," Sharon interrupted, reaching for her glass. "I'm sure we don't need a speech." She looked bored.

Erik's mouth twitched with amusement. Kurt looked angry. He opened his mouth to speak. Charles panicked.

"Actually, Erik was looking at the Xavier Corp. program too," he piped up, hoping to change the direction of the conversation. "I was telling him that—"

What the fuck, Charles, Erik said, suddenly horrified. Why would you—

Kurt laughed louder than before. "I think you'll find only the exceptional students warrant a place in that program."

"Erik has exceptional grades," Charles argued. "He got a full ride because of them. Columbia wanted him there, not the other way around."

The other guests at the table exchanged awkward looks. Charles could hear their minds murmuring; the way they were embarrassed that Charles was making such a fuss, and the way they thought Erik was odd and rude, and probably wouldn't amount to much if he carried on like this in the workplace.

Please shut up, Erik sent. His hands were clenched, and Charles could see the silverware starting to vibrate.

But the smugness emanating from Kurt was spiking Charles' irritation. He was sick of Kurt's attitude, tired of hearing him putting down people who actually worked hard to achieve something, instead of being born into privilege.

This boy's a joke, Charles heard Kurt think. Utterly hopeless and depending on handouts already. I suppose it's because he's foreign, not like us. Thinks too highly of himself too, I'd wager he's a dirty mutant like Charles. Raised by a single mother, no wonder he's a pansy on top of it all. Talk about no chance in hell.

"Erik's mutation allows him to manipulate metal too, which is something the other candidates can probably only dream of. With the right organisation, he'll succeed at a level people have never seen before," Charles continued, keeping his voice level. "I think you'll find Erik is the most exceptional student in his class, and any company would be idiotic not to hire him." He was breathing hard, but willing himself to stay calm. Everyone at the table looked shocked at what amounted to an outburst, especially compared to the prior tepid discussions.

"Honestly, Charles," Sharon sighed. "Must we discuss these things at the dinner table?"

"For God's sake!" Charles exclaimed. He took a deep breath to try and regain control. "I'm not talking about his, I don't know, sexual proclivities or something," he gritted out. "'Mutation' isn't a dirty word."

Kurt face was becoming blotchy. "How dare you—" he spluttered. Raven's eyes were huge.

"I think you and Erik need to leave the table now," Sharon said to Charles. "I'm disappointed that you can't have a civil conversation—"

"Fine," Charles interrupted. "I'm also very disappointed." Erik was ahead of him, pushing his chair back and stalking out of the room without a word, as Charles followed behind him. Charles realised his hands were shaking.

"Fuck, Erik, I'm so sorry," he said, once they got into the corridor, reaching out to touch his arm. "I didn't think they'd be that—"

Erik shook off his hand. "Yeah, you should be," he muttered, continuing to stride away.

"What?" Charles stopped in shock, then hurried to catch up with him. "Excuse me? What do you mean?"

Erik just shook his head and kept walking until they got back to Charles' bedroom. Then he grabbed his backpack and started pulling out his jacket and scarf.

"Erik!" Charles exclaimed. "What are you doing? I don't understand…"

"I'm going home, Charles," Erik growled. He rolled his eyes at Charles' shocked expression. "I don't belong here."

"Don't go," Charles implored.

Erik snorted derisively.

"I want you to stay," Charles said pleadingly. "They'll forget about it soon, they'll just go on with their stupid dinner and get drunk and not care—"

"I doubt they want me in this house ever again," Erik argued. "And I don't want to be in this house ever again."

Charles shook his head. "You're overreacting," he said. "If anything they're angry with me, for 'making a scene'." He laughed with an edge of bitterness.

"Then why did you?" Erik demanded.

"What do you mean?" Charles said again. "Kurt was being ridiculous, I had to—"

"You didn't have to do anything," Erik snapped. "Why didn't you shut up when I asked you to. Or before then, preferably."

Charles was taken aback. "You're angry at me? I was just trying to help, Kurt was going to—"

"I didn't need your help, Charles!" Erik exclaimed. "I don't give a shit what he thinks of me. You made it worse. Why the fuck would you mention the internship? I'm not applying there, I never wanted to apply there, you just wouldn't shut up about it so I said I'd take a look. I did. Not gonna happen."

Charles was speechless. He felt tears stinging his eyes.

"And then you had to bring up the scholarship? Just to really rub it in that I couldn't afford to be there on my own?"

Charles' throat was tight. "I didn't… they were judging you, and I just wanted them to know… you are brilliant…" The tears were threatening to spill over and Charles wiped his eyes roughly with his sleeve. "I've never stood up them like that," he confessed. "I was trying…" He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

"Charles," Erik groaned. "Don't get upset…"

Charles snorted wetly. "I'm sorry…" he began, but the tears kept coming and he couldn't get any more words out. I really was trying, he thought. They can look down on me all they want, but Erik…

The anger was draining out of Erik with every shuddering breath, and he looked deflated compared to the self-assured front he'd been putting up since they went to dinner. He dropped his things and shuffled over to Charles. "Come here," he said, pulling him into a hug. Charles tried to avoid getting snot and tears on Erik's shirt, but soon gave it up for a lost cause, as Erik patted his back soothingly.

"Don't cry, schatzi," Erik murmured.

"I didn't mean to…" Charles sobbed. "I'm sorry."

Erik shook his head. "I'm sorry. I just… never mind. I'm sorry they suck so much."

Charles laughed despite his tears. "Me too," he agreed. Just then, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled back from Erik and winced at the wet patch on his chest, before pulling his phone out.

"It's Raven," he explained. "Apparently Kurt told them… oh good, that I've had a mental illness since I was a child and I clearly forgot my medication today." He sniffed. "Perfect."

"Fuck," Erik sighed. He looked down in dismay, then took off his soggy shirt and rooted around in his bag for a replacement.

Charles nodded. "I'm sure Kurt found some way to make himself sound noble for putting up with me. For the guests, you know. Still, I bet they're less than happy Cameron spent so much time with me now." He chuckled ruefully. "I guess I'm released from that duty."

His phone buzzed again.

"Oh, Raven also says she got the expensive scotch out of the cabinet earlier and brought a stash of snacks to the den. If we want to join her." He looked hopefully up at Erik while his face disappeared and then reappeared from under his sweater.

Erik ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know, I'm still not sure if I should stay," he said slowly. "Especially if it makes things worse for you."

"I completely understand," Charles replied. "But, it's getting late now, and really cold. And it's New Year's Eve, so it's going to be a pain in the ass to get a ride home."

"Right," Erik sighed.

"So, probably, it would actually be best for you to stay, and drink their booze, and watch a bad movie, and still kiss me at midnight," Charles suggested, trying to look alluring despite his runny nose and reddened eyes.

Erik's face softened, and he stepped forward to cup Charles' face in his hand. "You do make a compelling argument," he said with a gentle smile. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yes," Charles replied, and leaned in to kiss him. Erik tried to sneakily wipe his own face after, so Charles gave up and got them both tissues. "And then," he added, attempting a seductive tone after blowing his nose, "you can hold me down and fuck me until I forget what year it is. After we've slept that off, we can leave here together."

Erik snorted with laughter. "Yeah, okay, you're feeling better."

~

In the den, Raven and Charles forced Erik to sit through When Harry Met Sally, and then forbade him from drinking another glass of scotch.

"I refuse to have a repeat of our first kiss," Charles giggled. "I don't know what another puking after kissing scenario would do to my delicate psyche."

"Oh my god, you didn't," Raven cackled. "That would have been it for me."

"I let him sleep in my bed after," Charles admitted. "Hopeless, right."

"Well, if he looked like that, I guess I get it," Raven allowed, jabbing her thumb at Erik. "You both seem a little hopeless, to be fair."

Erik was curled up grouching on the sofa, after arguing adamantly that three drinks would be fine, but being completely outvoted.

"Come on, darling," Charles said, "cheer up, let's um…" He looked around the room.

"Is that your chess set?" Erik asked, forgetting to sulk for a moment and pointing at a side table. "It's so… fancy." The colours were standard, but it had been hand-carved in Italy from alabaster, and the light shone through the translucent white pieces.

"It was my father's!" Charles exclaimed. "He taught me. Do you play?"

Erik waved his hand vaguely. "Not that well. I was good as a kid, so my family stopped playing with me, because I just kept winning."

"Big talk!" Charles laughed. "Let's have a game then. I'm sure it'll be muscle memory, like riding a bike." Erik laughed.

Raven groaned. "You're not going to play chess, on New Year's Eve, really!" She flopped down into an armchair dramatically. "Boring old men," she grumbled.

"Why aren't you at a party or something?" Erik asked, moving over to the table as Charles set up the pieces on the board. "Or whatever you young people do?"

"Someone has to look after him," Raven sighed, inclining at head at Charles. "I didn't know if he could rely on you." Erik looked serious for a moment.

"Alright, enough talking !" Charles announced, clapping his hands. "Best of three, what are we gonna bet?"

"Bet?" asked Erik, concerned.

"Oooh," said Raven. "Now it's getting interesting!"

"Is there such a thing as strip chess?" Charles mused.

"NO!" yelled Erik and Raven in unison.

When Charles woke up next to Erik the next morning, the drama from the night before faded into the background. He'd won all three chess games, but Erik had certainly been unexpectedly strong contender. Suddenly those two drinks had been an unfair impediment, according to Erik, and he'd definitely do better next time. Charles decided not to tell him how much he'd managed to imbibe before they'd started playing. They were both out of practice, if Charles was honest, but it was fun to have a worthy opponent again. And as the winner, Charles had made him take all his clothes off, as soon as Raven had left the room.

Charles had also decided not to tell Erik about how much grovelling he was going to have to do once he gave Sharon and Kurt a bit of time to cool off. Making them look bad in front of their guests was really the worst thing he could have done, even after enduring them patiently for the whole week before. He was still relying on them somewhat until his trust became available to him at twenty one, and there was a lot he'd put up with to keep his own apartment. Erik might not understand, but that was okay. Charles was less than two years away from the next step to freedom.

For now, Charles was firmly in the present. And the present was delivering a dilemma in the form of Erik's rapidly approaching twenty first birthday. They were already booked in for a dinner with the Lehnsherrs, of course, but Charles wanted to do something too. Erik had made it abundantly clear that he didn't want to receive a gift, so Charles was weighing up his other options.

In the weeks leading up to Erik's birthday at the end of the month, Charles decided not to stray from the food theme that Erik had introduced for him to impress Edie. They had tried a lot of the culinary options around or near campus, and nothing seemed right for a special occasion, so Charles resolved to try and cook. He'd never made something from scratch before, but a lot of people managed to make dinner most nights of the week, so he figured it couldn't be that hard. Once the day actually arrived, Charles typed 'Jewish recipes' into Google, headed to the grocery store, and hoped for the best.

~

Two and a half hours later, with as many pans as he owned (three, previously unused) in various stages of probably ruined, Charles had to admit defeat. His chicken was blackening on the outside, but still somehow not cooked fully through. The green beans were not so much steamed, as 'mush'. And maybe frying potatoes as an amateur wasn't the best idea. He didn't know food could spit at you, and he didn't enjoy it. He was considering the feasibility of looking for a secondary, simpler recipe when, glancing at his phone, he realised with a start that Erik was due to arrive in less than thirty minutes.

Charles looked at the total disarray in his tiny kitchen with despair, and made the decision to order pizza. He barely made it out of the shower in time to answer the door, and he tipped the pizza guy too much out of sheer gratitude for the sight of something edible. Minutes later, Erik's familiar mind made itself known in his building. Charles hadn't been able to do anything with the mess in and around the sink and cooktop, and he suddenly remembered he had forgotten to take the ready-made dessert out of the freezer to defrost. He hurried to do so, pushing a stack of papers and other assorted debris from the small dining table to make room for them to actually eat.

Erik knocked on the door, and Charles took one last look at the disaster area, then caught a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror as he rushed past, before opening the door and promptly bursting into tears.

Erik's brow was furrowed. "Charles, can you smell tha—" he started to ask before he looked at Charles properly, and his eyes grew wide. "Oh no, schatzi, what happened?" He pulled Charles into his arms and looked over his shoulder. "Ah," he said.

Charles groaned miserably, leaning the top of his head against Erik's chest. "I was trying…" he sniffed, voice muffled, "for your birthday…"

Erik chuckled as he patted Charles' hair. "It's fine," he said soothingly. "I don't need anything. It means a lot that you tried. It looks like it was… difficult." He must have caught sight of the boxes on the counter next, as he added, "And you got me pizza! And tears."

"Erik!" Charles pouted, pushing back from him. "Don't be mean."

"I'm sorry, schatzi," Erik apologised, trying to look serious. "You're just so cute like this, I can't help it. And it's truly totally fine. Mama will cook tomorrow and it will be great, we don't need anything fussy." He hugged Charles tighter and kissed the top of his head. "Also, I think there might be something in your hair?"

"Still?" Charles groaned.

~

After Erik helped shampoo Charles' hair, and they reheated the pizza, they still had a while to wait on dessert to thaw from its frozen state. At least I couldn't really mess up store-bought cheesecake, Charles thought sadly, as he climbed into Erik's lap on the couch.

"Happy birthday," he said dispiritedly. "Is there anything you want to do now?"

Erik wrapped his arms around Charles' waist, but then sighed. "We should probably try to clean the pans now, they'll only get more stuck—"

"No," Charles wailed. "I refuse to spend tonight washing cookware." He poked Erik in the chest. "Help me salvage this, please."

Erik made a face. "I would be happy enough to salvage them… never mind." He gave up, clearly unable to resist Charles' pleading face, which was exactly the intention of Charles when deploying said face. "You don't have any elaborate sex plans this time?" he teased instead.

Charles couldn't help but laugh at that. "I organised my own birthday sex plans, you wanted me to do it again?"

Now it was Erik's turn to pout a little. "You're good at planning. Well, when there isn't food involved."

Charles' eyebrows shot up. "I'm not sure you're going about this the right way to get what you want," he joked.

"Mm, sorry," Erik murmured, pulling Charles down so he could kiss him, while pressing up against him simultaneously.

Charles quickly forgot to be annoyed. "What do you want?" he breathed in Erik's ear as he ground down into his lap. He felt Erik tremble against him, but he was surprisingly non-forthcoming , as Charles shifted to the side so he could rub and stroke Erik's cock through his pants. Erik tipped his head back with a quiet groan.

"Hmm?" Charles prompted him. "We can do anything you like." He bit down on Erik's earlobe.

"Uh," Erik began, "maybe…" Charles waited. Erik rucked up Charles' sweater, ran his hands up his back, pressing lightly. "Wecouldmaybetrythatsamething," he muttered into Charles' neck.

Charles was confused. "I'm not sure I'm getting that…"

Erik huffed. "The same thing. From your birthday."

Charles laughed. "We've done that a lot since then, why are you being so weird abou—" Then he realised. "Oh. Oh."

Erik shifted uncomfortably, not looking at him,

"You want to?" Charles asked, trying to make sure. "You want me to…?"

"Is that so weird?" Erik grumbled, still looking away.

"Of course not!" Charles rushed to assure him. "I just wasn't sure if you were interested, of course it's fine if you want that. Or if you didn't. Either way."

Erik looked defensive. "Well I liked the other stuff. There, you know. That we tried." Charles nodded. "And you seem to like it," Erik argued.

"You sound a bit pissed off about it," Charles chuckled. "Are you sure—"

"Yes!" Erik answered impatiently, getting up from the couch. "So?"

Charles blinked. "Okay, let's go then."

Erik started shedding clothing on his walk to the bedroom. Charles was tempted to ask him to stop, so that he could undress him instead, but he figured that Erik maybe wasn't in the mood for being told what to do.

When they got to Charles' bed, Erik just sat down and waited, so Charles started taking his own clothes off too.

"Um… have you tried before, with anything?" Charles asked, unbuttoning his pants. "Other than my fingers?"

Erik shook his head.

"Hm," Charles wondered. "You know I practised—"

Erik smirked. "As if I could forget."

"Well, I'm just saying," Charles hopped on one foot to pull off his pants leg. "It might not be so easy, that's all."

Erik looked awkward. "No offence, but you aren't…"

"I know," Charles said with a roll of his eyes. "Most people aren't—"

"Anyway," Erik continued, "where was I supposed to get something like that? Sent to my mother's house? Or my dorm?"

"You could have sent it here," Charles said exasperatedly, pulling off his briefs. It's not that small, he thought, looking down at himself critically. "And you have, like, metal manipulating skills. Haven't you seen a metal sex toy? You could make one out of, I don't know, a doorknob or something."

"I am not putting a doorknob in my ass," Erik scowled, affronted.

Charles sighed. "Fair enough." He got on the bed and crawled across to get the lube. "So, how do you want me to…"

Erik shrugged. "You did the research," he reminded Charles, not moving.

Oh, for fucks sake. "Lie down," Charles commanded. Erik obeyed, stretching out on the mattress on his back, eyes wide.

Much better. Charles knelt over him and starting kissing him all over, hoping he'd eventually relax. After a while, Erik thankfully started to melt into his touch. Charles grabbed the lube and slicked up two fingers. He started sucking Erik off as he slid one finger inside him. They'd at least done this before, so he thought it would be a good place to get started. Charles swallowed him down as he rubbed his fingertip inside until Erik's muscles seemed to unclench a little. Erik groaned as Charles sucked his balls into his mouth and hummed around them, then thrust in again with two fingers instead.

"Fuck, Charles," Erik moaned, his back arching a little off the bed, and his legs falling wider apart. Charles continued to swirl his tongue around the tip of his cock, before swallowing him down to suck as much as he could, all while continuing to move his fingers inside. Erik always took a bit more time to acclimatise to the stretch, his arm flung over his eyes as he let out panting breaths. Charles thought he actually seemed more tense than usual, probably due to nerves, so didn't rush, working his fingers until Erik started to push back against him restlessly. Only then did Charles slip his fingers out and pull off him, rubbing his thigh in soothing circles.

"Turn over," he directed, voice low. Taking charge again seemed to have worked well earlier.

Erik paused, looking slightly suspicious. "Why?" he asked.

"Because I want to lick your asshole," Charles patiently explained. "Why do you think?"

"Oh," Erik replied. "That's good." He rolled onto his stomach without another word. Charles slid his hands up his thighs, and onto his hips. He gripped them and started to pull them up a bit, so Erik was balancing more on his knees and Charles had better access.

Charles was momentarily distracted by the view, by the feel of Erik's muscles under his hands, by the slickness as he traced a finger down and over his hole. Erik shuddered beneath him.

"Charles, I…" his voice faltered.

"You're doing so well," Charles murmured, "fuck, you're so beautiful. I can't believe I get to have you like this." Finally, he leaned in and started to tease him with his tongue, licking and swirling and sucking at the rim of muscle until it let him in further, dipping his tongue in short thrusts. Erik groaned against the pillows, cock rubbing against the sheets as he pushed back into Charles' face in rhythm.

When Erik started to make sounds that were either not in English or else not words at all, Charles reluctantly pulled back and wiped his mouth.

"Darling," he whispered as Erik whimpered, still rutting slightly against the bed, "do you want me inside you now?"

"Fuck," Erik breathed. "Yeah." He started to turn back over.

"Do you want to do it the same way?" Charles asked. "As we did for me, I mean?"

Erik's brow creased. "Can we… can I look at you?"

Charles nodded. "You can ride me if you want, or we can try missionary." He stretched out alongside Erik, propped up on his elbow. "That can get a bit deep, but I can go slow."

"Okay," Erik said, sounded a little nervous again.

Charles leaned in to brush the hair out of his eyes. "We don't have to, we can stop now," he reminded him, and kissed his forehead.

"I want to," Erik said stubbornly. "Just…"

"Anything," Charles replied.

"Can you brush your teeth now? Or even just use the mouthwash?" Erik said, looking pained.

Charles tried not to laugh. Erik looked so serious. "Yes, of course."

When Charles came back from the bathroom, he sat against the wall and encouraged Erik to kneel, facing him, in between his legs. He found the lube again and slowly slicked himself up, suddenly feeling nervous himself. He hopefully wouldn't hurt Erik, but what if he came too quickly? Or was just bad? Erik would probably never want to try it again. He noticed Erik's erection was already flagging a little since he'd been rimming him.

"Um, do you want to come a bit closer?" he asked. "And then, well, you can—"

Erik had been shuffling forward on his knees, but stopped. "I can't," he said.

"Oh," Charles responded, hoping he didn't look disappointed. "That's fine—"

"I can't look at you," Erik interrupted. "It was a bad idea."

Charles was offended. He was taking a little too much psychological damage today.

"Not like that," Erik groaned. "I just, it's too…" he trailed off. Charles titled his head, confused. "It's too embarrassing," Erik ground out, cheeks turning red. "Okay?"

Charles bit back his giggle and nodded. After all that. Eye contact, the final frontier. "Sure. Come here then." He lay back and pulled Erik against him, adjusting them so they were lying with Erik's back to Charles' front, just like they'd done for his first time, only in reverse.

"Okay," Charles said quietly into Erik's ear, as he held his hip with one hand, and stroked himself slowly with the other. "Are you—?"

"Will you put it in?" Erik gritted out. Charles huffed, reminding himself that he'd gotten impatient and slightly angry at Erik too. It was different being on the other side of things. He'd hoped this moment would be a little more… romantic. But here they were.

Charles took a deep breath and line himself up, then started pushing in. He was instantly overwhelmed with how hot it felt inside Erik, how wet, and how tight, despite everything they'd just done.

"Jesus," he groaned, resting his sweaty forehead against the broadness of Erik's back. Erik didn't say anything but reached his arm back, hand scrambling at Charles' thigh. Charles pulled back a tiny bit and then thrust in again, feeling himself push past the initial resistance and sliding in until he was fully seated. He paused, breathing hard, as he tried to get used to the sensation. Erik was so tight he thought he might not be able to move again.

"Is it okay?" Charles croaked, running his hand up Erik's arm.

Erik nodded, so Charles tried to move his hips slightly, pulling back and pushing back in just a little way. Erik let out a high pitched sound and clenched even harder.

"Oh my god, Erik, am I hurting you?" Charles asked, worried. Erik shook his head. "Can you please actually talk?"

No, Erik sent.

Do you want me to stop? Charles asked, thoughts coloured with concern.

I don't know, Erik replied.

Charles fretted, rubbing Erik's hips. Then he remembered something. "Let me touch you," he said, reaching around and starting to stroke Erik's rapidly deflating dick. "It supposed to help distract you…"

Wonderful, Erik sent back, but Charles could already feel him start to press into Charles' hand, and unclench slightly.

"Just like that, my love," Charles murmured, reaching for the lube again. "So good. Can you—?"

Erik took the lube and squirted some on himself and Charles' hand. He moaned as Charles stroked him a bit faster, his palm gliding over the hot, sensitive skin. He shifted a bit as he chased the movement, and Charles drew in a sharp breath as he felt himself slide an inch or two.

"Should I try again?" Charles asked tentatively, as Erik seemed less tense this time, the small sounds he was making more pleasurable than pained.

Okay, Erik responded.

Charles moved carefully, unable to hold back his own moan at the slow drag of his cock inside Erik, encouraged by the feel of him hardening again as Charles continued with shallow and gentle thrusts. After a minute Erik pushed his hand away and took over jerking himself off, so Charles wiped the remaining lube on the sheet and grabbed Erik's hips again, guiding himself steadily in and out. Heat was flaring at the base of his stomach and pleasure was tingling up his spine. He reached up to kiss Erik's shoulder, and tried not to lose control of his movements as he got closer.

It wasn't long until Erik let out a more desperate sound, actually pushing back a bit on Charles' cock and speeding up the movement of his hand.

Yes, darling, Charles sent to him. You're so gorgeous, so good at this. I love this so much. He heard Erik's breath speed up, panting out huffs of air on every thrust.

I want you to come, Charles continued. He didn't think he could last much longer himself. I want you to come while I'm inside you—

Erik bit into the flesh of his free arm and let out a muffled cry as he tensed and then shook, hand moving insistently as he came in shuddering bursts. Charles shut his eyes and held on as Erik tensed around him again.

"Oh, Erik," he groaned. "I—"

Suddenly Erik was pushing away from him. "Get out," he demanded weakly, voice hoarse.

"Wha—" Charles was bewildered, trying to pull back gently while Erik scrabbled at his hips.

"Get it out," Erik repeated desperately, and they both moaned softly as Charles finally slid out.

Erik curled forward, panting and let out a sound that was too close to a sob. Charles panicked.

"What happened?" Charles asked, terrified. He tried to turn Erik back around to face him. "Talk to me," he begged.

Erik eventually rolled onto his back and winced. He wasn't looking Charles in the eye.

"Oh, no, oh fuck, Erik…" Charles cried.

"Stop it, you didn't do anything," Erik said, his face turning red. "It's fine. I'm fine." He looked up, finally. "I just… after I came, it started… I had to get it out."

"Oh," gasped Charles. "Okay, that's okay."

"Sorry," Erik muttered. "I messed it up, I—"

"You didn't," Charles interrupted, shaking his head. "I promise. It was amazing."

Erik looked dubious. "Can I?" he asked, reaching for Charles' dick. I didn't get you off…

"You don't have to," Charles protested. "Oh, fuck…" It did really feel good, though, and he'd been so close...

It didn't take much of Erik's determined stroking before Charles came too, his legs shaking through the intensity of his release.

"Oh my fucking god," Charles moaned, melting into the bed, his strength gone.

Erik chuckled, but he still looked vaguely downcast.

Charles used the last of his energy to sit up a bit, and pull Erik towards him.

"Please don't be like that," he begged. "It really was amazing. For me, I mean. I'm sorry that—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Erik interjected, hugging him tighter. "It was just… very…"

Charles laughed quietly. "Yeah," he agreed.

"It wasn't like fingers," Erik remarked.

"No."

"But it was good," Erik insisted. "When it wasn't… I mean, after a while."

"I'm glad," Charles murmured, kissing him.

"And I'm glad it was with you."

Charles thought he might start to cry again. Stop being silly, he berated himself. It's sex, you idiot.

"I love you," he said instead.

"I love you too, schatzi."

Chapter Text

May

The breeze tickled Erik's skin as he lay back on the blanket, arms shielding his face from the sun. Charles was a warm weight beside him, and his brain felt blessedly empty for a moment. Exams were finally over for their junior year, and they had a couple weeks to enjoy before their internships started in the summer. Erik was trying his best to relax and not overthink either his exam performance or his internship preparation. He'd been accepted to McLaren, his first choice, but the anxiety about getting in to the program had swiftly been replaced by the anxiety of living up to their expectations and making the most of the opportunity. At least Charles had made him laugh by suggesting that they send a copy of Erik's acceptance letter to Kurt, with a picture of him giving the finger.

Today he had hoped to be especially stress-free. It had gone so quickly in retrospect that he could barely believe it, but it was his and Charles' first year anniversary. A year from the day they first kissed, which Charles had argued pretty much counted as a date, because they'd gone from the party to a second location. Erik wasn't too worried about which date they picked either way — he was mostly amazed that this was something that had happened to him at all, when he least expected it. Ruth and Noah had gotten married after two years, and here they were, halfway there. It was a different situation from them, of course, but it still felt significant.

Eager to avoid another cooking attempt from Charles — the pots and pans had not been recoverable and Erik hadn't been able to hide his wince when Charles shrugged and started an online order to replace them all — Erik had offered to take care of food for the day. They'd ended up spending the morning at the New York Hall of Science, which Erik had been surprised to discover he enjoyed even more than Charles did. The numerous engineering-based exhibits had even given him a chance to lecture Charles for a change. And if he knew it all already, he'd kept his mouth shut and listened avidly anyway, eyes sparkling. Erik appreciated the effort.

Afterwards, they'd gone to Queens Botanical Garden for lunch, which Erik had prepared at home and packed as a picnic. Those same brilliant blue eyes had glistened slightly as Charles took in the spread, laid out on the blanket Edie had lent them.

"No one has ever done anything like this for me before," he said in a watery voice. "It's… thank you."

"What about your chef?" Erik teased. "You've probably eaten more food cooked for you than not."

Charles pouted, looking adorably frustrated. "It's not anywhere near the same, and you know it."

Erik had cooked for him before too. It had mostly been pasta and basic things that he could easily get the groceries for, and prepare in Charles' small kitchen, so he wouldn't try to subsist entirely on snacks and take out for the whole week. It hadn't been difficult for Erik. Certainly nothing as ambitious as Charles had tried, and been defeated by, on Erik's birthday. Still, Charles' response to the picnic made Erik realise what that attempt at cooking had probably meant to him, as a way to convey his feelings, even though he didn't know what he was doing. Erik felt a pang of guilt, considering that his reaction at the time wasn't as sympathetic as it could have been. Just accept the gratitude, Lehnsherr, he told himself.

"You're right, schatzi," he belatedly agreed, "it's especially for you, and I hope you like it."

Charles had kissed him, and then they had eaten the food, and now they were just relaxing and enjoying being outdoors as they digested. Well, mostly. Erik could feel the weight of the small metal object in his jeans pocket like it was ten times bigger in size.

Since their game at the Xavier's on New Year's Eve, they had been continuing to play chess together on an app, and Erik was pleased to be giving Charles a run for his money now, as he got back into the swing of it. Additionally, Erik had been surprised at how much he enjoyed their new, light-hearted rivalry. Charles was never a pushover when he was passionate about something, and he didn't go easy on Erik to spare his feelings. Plus, it was something that connected them even when they were apart for however long — the notification that popped up with a new move brought a smile to Erik's face every time.

So, when Erik had decided on what he wanted to make for a little anniversary present, he had briefly considered a chess piece. However, he had struggled with which piece to choose — a king was basically useless, requiring protection, but a queen might seem too feminine and send the wrong message, and a pawn was hardly romantic. He had nixed that idea, and gone back to a classic. But he was still nervous about actually giving it to Charles. In the end he figured he should just get it over with, without making a bigger deal than was necessary.

"I made you something," Erik declared, breaking the comfortable silence. Charles rolled over and began to sit up, surprised. "If you don't like it just tell me," Erik added. "I can make it into something else."

Charles' eyes grew wide as Erik pulled the small package from his pocket, clumsily wrapped in tissue paper, and handed it to him.

"We said no presents!" Charles protested. But when Erik reached out his hand for it back, with a raised eyebrow, Charles pulled it away and started to open the tape anyway. "Oh Erik," he breathed as he lifted up the delicate chain featuring a double helix pendant. "It's so beautiful!"

Erik hoped his blush was hidden by the glaring sun. It was one of the most detailed things he'd created with his power so far, and he had spent a fair bit of time refining it. It did mean something that Charles liked it.

"Can you put it on me now?" Charles asked happily, holding it up and wiggling excitedly.

Erik laughed and then concentrated a little, raising and slipping the chain out of Charles' hands, and securing it around his neck. Charles grinned from ear to ear, watching it as it glinted in the light.

"Now I can keep an eye on you too," Erik joked, making the metal vibrate slightly against his skin. This time Charles blushed.

"I actually got you something too," he confessed, smiling shyly at Erik as he ran his fingers over the pendant. "I didn't bring it with me though."

"But we said—" Erik began, and then shut his mouth in response to Charles' pointed look. "Fine," he sighed.

"It's just a small thing," Charles added. "Nothing compared to yours."

Back in Charles' apartment that evening, Erik couldn't begrudge Charles also breaking their no-gift policy. He felt the present before he even saw it. It was a beautiful chess set, with solid metal pieces and a metal-covered board, nothing ostentatious like the one at the Xavier's.

"I know you could probably make something like that for yourself," Charles explained apologetically, "but until you wanted to do that, I thought it would be nice to have something other than the app to play on. Especially while you're staying here for the summer."

"I love it," Erik declared, and kissed him. The design was elegant and simple, and the metal felt soothing to him. He was glad it was something they could use together too, so he felt less pressure about how much it might have cost.

"You can always melt it down later," Charles suggested, still bashful, "or, like meld or smoosh it into something better." He chuckled. "I can't think of the right word for what it is you can do."

Erik was offended at the idea. "Why would I do that?"he asked dismissively. "And the word definitely isn't smoosh."

Charles giggled. "Alright, then." He looked happy. "I can think of something else you can smoosh." He flashed Erik a cheeky smile and yanked his t-shirt over his head.

Erik rolled his eyes. "I don't think that's the right word for that either, schatzi," he groaned, but still followed him into the bedroom.

Two weeks later

Erik stared at his laptop. It couldn't be correct. He refreshed the page, but it remained stubbornly unchanged. He felt like someone had poured cold water down the back of his neck, trickling down to his spine. The B kept staring him in the face, glowing and blurring at the edges of his vision. A fucking B.

Charles burst into the living area, looking worried. "Erik? What happened?I could feel it from the other room…"

Erik didn't speak. Charles rushed over to him, looking quizzically at the laptop screen. "Oh yeah, final grades are out today, right? What's the—" He stopped and peered at Erik curiously. "Oh Erik, it's not that, is it?"

Erik swallowed, staring stubbornly at his transcript, still not saying anything.

Charles huffed out a breath. "Erik," he began slowly, "surely this isn't what's causing all the emotion I could feel. I thought something bad had happened."

"Something bad has happened!" Erik snapped.

Charles did a poor job at hiding an eye-roll. "It can't be the first time you didn't get an—"

"Well it is," Erik interrupted, flatly. "I'm… I can't fucking believe…" he muttered. "Fucking thermodynamics, I knew I should have—" What was he doing, the week before that exam? Fuck, it wasn't when Charles had just finished writing his term paper and had talked him into the importance of regular 'stress relief' was it? What if McLaren found out about his dip in grades, and decided they wanted to rescind his internship offer?

"Okay, you need to stop," Charles declared, placing a hand on each of Erik's shoulders. "You're in some strange panic spiral, over a B no less, and we need to—"

"Stop it!" Erik snarled, shaking him off. "I don't need you to make fun of me, or try and distract me, I need to get better, and make sure this doesn't happen again."

Charles looked shocked. "Alright, Erik, it's truly not that big of a—"

"It is!" Erik insisted. "You have no fucking idea! You don't get it!" He stood up quickly, pushing his chair back with a clatter. "I have to get a certain GPA, I have to—"

"I'm sorry, but you are overreacting," Charles said firmly, even though he looked hurt. "One B is not going to change anything. You need to calm down."

"Screw that," Erik spat. He grabbed his sneakers, and stormed out of the apartment.

Halfway down the street, Erik realised he was not really dressed for an impromptu outdoor excursion, and made a face at his ratty t-shirt and sweatpants. He'd managed to put his shoes on in the elevator, so he considered just going for a run, despite the rising humidity. Maybe that will help, he thought. Running usually cleared his head. Not that I need to 'calm down'.

Twenty minutes later, and Erik had to admit that he was feeling better, albeit also much sweatier. Even though he was still angry at himself for the bad grade, he was starting to see the possibility that it might not ruin everything. Unfortunately, that meant he probably had to go back to Charles and apologise for being such a dick. He decided he might drop into his actual room, and see how Armando was going, first. It had been a while, and now that the term was over they might not see each other during the summer; everyone was going to be busy with their internships. Yep, I should definitely do that first.

~

"Hey man!" Armando greeted him. "Long time no see," he said with a customary smirk.

"Yeah, yeah," Erik grunted. "How are things?"

"Pretty good! Luckily I don't mind the solitude," Armando joked. "Good day for a run?" He looked out the window sceptically, and then back at Erik.

"Not really," Erik muttered.

Armando laughed, and then glanced down at his laptop. "Oh yeah, grades are out now, if you haven't checked."

"Don't remind me," Erik groaned.

Armando raised his eyebrows in surprise but didn't push any further. "How's Charles?" he asked.

They chatted for a while about Charles, their friends at the cafe, and their upcoming internships. Armando was excited about spending eight weeks at Life Sci NYC.

"The commute is going to be a bitch though," he sighed, standing up and stretching.

Erik hummed in agreement, though he felt vaguely guilty. Not everyone had the rich boyfriend option —it made him feel like some kind of traitor.

As if Armando was thinking along the same lines, he changed the conversation back to Charles again. "Alex said Charles is hosting some kind of get-together though, once we're all done. To celebrate, or freak out about our final year." He laughed.

Erik frowned slightly. "He did?" He didn't think Charles had mentioned it to him.

Armando grimaced slightly, like he'd made a mistake. "Yeah? Just for our little group though, you know. Alex and the cafe crew, Moira."

"Oh," Erik breathed a sigh of relief. "That's cool then." He could probably handle that many people. For a while. There weren't really any places to hide in Charles' apartment if he got sick of everyone. "I suppose I should head back, actually," Erik said, sniffing at his shirt. Gross. Hopefully he could shower before any apology needed to be made.

"Alright, man," Armando replied, slapping him on the shoulder. "See you around!"

~

"Oh god, oh fuck, Erik," Charles moaned, using a hand to steady himself as he bounced up and down on Erik's cock.

The apology had gone well. Charles hadn't seemed that angry after all, more concerned, and glad to see that Erik was feeling slightly less stressed about the whole thing. It was the walking out that had upset Charles the most; he understood the need to cool off, but would appreciate if Erik could say he was just doing that next time. Erik had agreed and said he was sorry for all of it anyway — it wasn't Charles' fault that he hadn't studied enough. Well it was maybe a little his fault; he was pretty distracting. But Erik couldn't fully blame him for that when he enjoyed it too.

"Fuck, Charles," Erik groaned. "You gonna come on my cock?" He could feel the pounding of Charles' heartbeat against the metal of his new necklace.

Charles sped up his movements, letting out small, punched out sounds with every thrust. "Yes, oh god, I'm gonna come so hard," he choked out, "you feel so good."

Erik couldn't handle it any longer — it felt amazing like this, and watching Charles jerk himself to orgasm while riding him was still one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. But he couldn't thrust fully from this position and it was keeping him on edge when he really needed more.

He grabbed Charles' hips and rolled them over, so he was under Erik. He pulled Charles' thighs up and pushed back in, eliciting a groan from them both. Erik could finally let go and snap his hips against Charles' ass, fucking deeper and harder. The room was filled with the sounds of Erik's balls slapping against him, lewd squelching, and their harsh breaths.

Charles let out a high pitched sound as he resumed stroking himself. "Oh yes, fuck, just like that, don't fucking stop, Erik, fuu-uck…" he wailed, stiffening and then spurting over his hand. He jerked himself through it, wringing out every last drop as Erik continued to pound into him, spurred on even further by the look on Charles' face. Erik hurtled off the edge seconds later — buried deep and picturing his come painting Charles' insides, and then being driven further into Charles by his last, lazy thrusts.

"Jesus Christ," Charles laughed shakily as Erik rolled off him, still gasping for breath. "I'm actually scared the neighbours felt that one."

Erik snorted. "I hope not. Imagine randomly having a spontaneous orgasm in your apartment on a Friday afternoon."

"It wouldn't be the worst thing," Charles giggled. "Better than getting hit with my migraine during finals week."

Erik cocked an eyebrow. "Really depends on who you're with at the time."

Charles wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, true."

"Still, I'm sure there are uses for that," Erik mused. "Something to keep in mind." He got up off the bed to go and fetch them a towel from the bathroom. "Revenge purposes, maybe."

"Revenge?!" Charles cackled with laughter. "Revenge orgasms? Who on earth do you think I am? Some kind of filthy supervillian?"

Despite his trepidation, Erik enjoyed his internship even more than he expected. Finally, after years of theory and small-scale practical activities, he was able to take part in some real-world projects and explore the potential future applications of his gift. The first day had been mostly facility tours and paperwork and meeting people, so to Erik it felt like it lasted a full week, and then the first week took the energy of a full month. That first weekend he had felt like a husk, not knowing how he was going to manage for the rest of the seven weeks, every day long and demanding in some way. But it had improved as he'd gotten used to the new routine and more comfortable with his assigned tasks.

Erik's supervisor was a taciturn civil engineer, in her mid-forties, but Erik appreciated the lack of small-talk and forced pleasantries. She hadn't seemed to care about grades or which school her interns went to — only giving the slightest indication of approval when a task was completed to her exacting specifications. Erik relished the challenge, and the chance to get his head down and focus, feeling more sure everyday that this was the industry he could see himself working in for his career. The satisfaction he felt when he received that terse nod after a job well done, was unmatched by any of his academic achievements so far. If only the other people here were mutants too, Erik mused. The idea of working freely with his power alongside others of his kind was the ultimate dream.

In comparison, the experience of staying at Charles' apartment 24/7 had been a little bit rocky. There were myriad benefits, of course, the least of which being not having to add a ridiculous commute to his already long hours. Erik couldn't really complain. Except when Charles had promised for four days in a row to put his clean laundry away so they had full use of the couch, and in the end had dumped it in a pile at the bottom of his closet instead. Then he had been confused as to why Erik didn't think that really counted. Or when the dinner table was continually covered in new papers and books that had to be hastily moved so Erik could put dinner on the table —but Erik wasn't allowed to do it himself, lest he mess up the 'order' that only made sense to Charles. Or when Erik despaired of ever finding a clean mug to make coffee in, every few days finding several cold, half-filled cups of tea scattered in every room.

"Sometimes it's like you expect someone else to pick shit up for you," Erik had snarked once. "I wonder where that comes from."

"Oh, piss off," Charles had shot back. "I said I'd do it, and I would have have managed to do it eventually, if you weren't so bloody anal about everything all the time."

Luckily that argument had ended with some spectacular sex over the back of Charles' couch, before anything more hurtful managed to be said.

It's like we're an old married couple already, Erik thought often, with fond exasperation (more heavily weighted to one feeling or the other, depending on the day). Charles had even taken to declaring "Honey, I'm home!" in a sing-song tone on the occasions he returned later than Erik. Still, Erik did enjoy cooking for them both, enjoyed falling asleep together every night and waking up together every morning. He didn't enjoy having to wake Charles up, but most days he left before Charles needed to be getting ready, so left that difficult task to the much-berated alarm clock. He enjoyed the sex too, of course, even though they'd both been busier and more tired than usual. And he enjoyed the game of chess they had ongoing, on his new board. Really, on balance, everything was going fine.

It was clear that Charles couldn't be happier, busy in the lab day in and out, and scribbling notes and typing up research papers in whatever time he had outside of that. He chattered excitedly about things they were working on, which were beyond Erik's comprehension, and spoke in glowing terms of his fellow interns and his academic mentor, who had spotted Charles early and taken him under his wing. He'd practically begged for Charles to stay at Columbia for his internship, instead of looking further afield.

One evening, Erik had heard a little bit too much in praise of Professor Stewart. "Is he going to force you to choose him as your Masters supervisor too?" he asked Charles. "Won't it be better to get a different perspective, work with someone else for a change?"

Charles laughed. "He's not going to force me to do anything. But he actually suggested that I look elsewhere for postgrad too, broaden my horizons a bit." Erik was surprised. "He said he could introduce me to some other academics in the field," Charles continued, "just depending on where I wanna go." There it is, Erik thought. Does that count as 'broadening your horizons'?

Erik decided against commenting on that aspect. "And do you know?"

Charles looked hesitant. "I'm looking into a few programs," he replied. "I haven't decided yet."

"Fair enough," Erik nodded. Charles had until the beginning of the next year to apply anyway, there was no rush. Maybe even longer if they were as desperate to have him as Stewart.

"Actually, I told him a bit about your plans too," Charles added, still hesitant.

Erik narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"I was just saying how well you're doing, your internship and everything. And he said you should probably look into a higher degree too. He said it would be a waste, with your talent, to stop so soon."

"He doesn't know me," Erik snorted derisively.

"Well, I do," Charles huffed in frustration. "And I agree."

Erik sighed. "We've been through this, haven't we?"

"I know," Charles grumbled. "I'm just saying, it's something to consider. I know you want a stable, well-paying job, and this would help you get that. A better one, where you had more choice, and freedom, probably, to use your gifts."

Erik didn't reply, trying not to respond with automatic annoyance. He turned the idea over in his mind. Charles might not be completely wrong.

"You'd get another scholarship, easily," Charles added. "If that's what you're worrying about—"

"Okay, enough for now," Erik interrupted. "I'll think about it, alright?"

Charles looked sceptical.

"Not like last time," Erik conceded, begrudgingly. "I'll actually think about it."

Charles grinned and leaned in for a kiss. "You really are brilliant," he breathed. "I can already imagine where you'll be, just a few years from now."

"Darling," Charles called out from the kitchen, head stuck in the fridge. "My love. I think we need more ice." He emerged with an apologetic face. "I forgot to pick some up earlier."

Erik sighed. "You only realised this now? Won't everyone be arriving soon?"

"Why don't we know a mutant with ice-based powers?" Charles mused. "Would be useful."

"Or one with perfect memory?" Erik joked. "Oh wait…" Charles wrinkled his nose.

It was now the end of July. Internships were over for everyone, and it was time for Charles' little 'get together'. It was really bringing home how close they were to final year, and the end of their familiar college life. Even if Erik ended up changing his plans, most of their friends would be moving on, and it would never be quite the same again. He was surprised by his own anticipation for the chance to catch up with them, and not think about the future for a while.

"I can get the ice," Moira offered, emptying a bag of chips into a bowl. "You're the hosts, I don't mind."

"No, I'll get it," Erik muttered. "I just don't know why… never mind." He grabbed his wallet. "And don't call us hosts, we opened some snacks and barely have enough chairs for everyone."

Charles stuck his tongue out at Erik. "Well next time we can have an elegant dinner party in your apartment. Oh wait…"

"Funny," Erik muttered. "I'll be five minutes." He strode into the corridor and waited impatiently for the elevator.

As the doors opened slowly, Erik's did a double-take. Inside, Alex and Armando seemed to finally register their arrival at Charles' floor, distracted as they had been by what looked to Erik like an attempt to permanently attach to each other via the mouth. Alex caught Erik's eye and they jumped apart, looking caught.

"What the fuck?" Erik demanded, dumbfounded, as they shuffled out of the elevator. Armando started to laugh, while Alex turned red. "No, seriously, what the fuck is happening?"

"You're not familiar with the concept?" Armando joked. "What have you and Charles been doing?"

Erik was too confused to make a sarcastic comment in return. "Since when do you like men? Either of you?"

Armando shrugged. "I adapt," he said with a wink.

"Can we get out of the hallway?" Alex exclaimed.

Erik marched them back to Charles' apartment and flung open the door. "Did you know about this?" he yelled at Charles.

"What?" Charles replied, bewildered. "Where's the ice? Oh, hello!" He grinned at their new guests. "Welcome! What's Erik yelling about?"

"These two," Erik began, jabbing his finger at Alex and Armando in turn, "were kissing. In your elevator."

"Oh my god, congratulations!" Charles enthused, with a little bounce."That's so great. Are you like, 'together' now?"

They looked at each other and smiled. "Yeah," Alex said, still somewhat sheepish, as Armando grabbed his hand. Charles clapped.

"Since when?" Erik burst out.

Charles looked at him and laughed. "Why are you acting like a protective dad?" he teased. He schooled his features into a frown and put his hands on his hips. "What are your intentions towards this man?" he demanded, mock serious.

Everyone laughed. "Okay, drinks," Charles announced, then grimaced. "Lukewarm drinks," he amended, shooting Erik a reproachful look. "Then we can hear the whole story."

Apparently they had only gotten together recently — part of Armando's commute to his internship coincided with Alex's, and their shared journey had turned into decompressing over drinks, had turned into…

"It just happened," Alex shrugged, but he looked happy. "We always got on well before, then recently… it just made sense."

"If only we figured it out earlier," Armando added with a smirk. "Considering I basically had my own room all semester."

Erik made a face. "I'm glad it remained unsullied."

"Like you can talk," Armando laughed. "Imagine using a black light on this apartment—"

Charles snorted and Moira peered dubiously at the couch cushion she was sitting on.

"Anyway," Alex jumped in. "It's not that big of a deal. We're together, shut up. Let's drink more."

"You gave us so much shit at the beginning," Erik said, incredulously. "You're not getting away with it that easy."

"That's because you were a total freak about everything," Alex retorted. "I've never seen someone one-eighty so hard."

Charles giggled and laid his head on Erik's shoulder. "Aw, that's so cute," he teased.

"When is everyone else getting here?" Moira cut in, with a self-deprecating chuckle. "I'm starting to feel like a fifth wheel."

~

A few hours later and Angel and Armando were singing a duet of "Islands in the Stream" on Charles' Wii, while Charles complained that someone had picked out all the good cheese and only left the boring ones. Erik was surprised he could tell the difference, after the amount of drinks he'd had. Sean was also sulking, after being banned from participating in the karaoke.

"I can stay in control!" he protested. "I learnt from the last time!"

"Sure, you might've, but our ears never recovered," Alex shot back.

Sean looked sad. "I did get a bit carried away," he confessed, "but that's because the song spoke to me, man."

"You can probably join in if you sing… uh, Taylor Swift, or Ed Sheeran," Moira suggested. "That's not going to break any sound barriers, right?"

"If you sing Taylor Swift, I'm gonna throw you out the window," Erik threatened.

"Okay then, your turn!" Angel yelled, pushing her microphone into Erik's hands. "I bet you've got a few ballads in you."

"I knew this purchase was a mistake," Erik groaned. "I need another drink."

"Or something else?" Sean offered. "I've got some weed. Can you smoke on the balcony?"

Charles sat up. "Oh really?"

Erik shook his head. "Absolutely not," he said firmly. "Keep him away from that or were all going to end up high."

Charles pouted. "S'not fair. Why do I have to be the responsible one?"

Erik barked out a laugh. "Mmhm, that's you, schatzi."

At lunch the following weekend, Ruth frowned slightly. "So, are you considering staying on for postgraduate study then?"

Erik shrugged, feeling a bit uncomfortable about the topic, still. "Maybe. Probably not. I'm thinking about it. But probably not."

"Mm, well as long as you're sure," Ruth laughed. Erik tossed his balled-up napkin at her. "You know what, I think you should just do it."

Erik raised his eyebrows. "Really? You didn't."

"You're smarter than me, Erik," Ruth argued. "All that 'potential' everyone has talked about since grade school. It's a great opportunity. And you're still young, you don't have all the adult responsibilities yet. It's the right time to do it, and you'll probably end up in a better job in the end, like Charles said."

"No responsibilities?" Erik scoffed.

Ruth rolled her eyes. "That's not what I said. I mean like, a family of your own or a mortgage or whatever. Mama would love you to stay, and you're practically living with Charles anyway, so you have options. What is it, another two years for the Masters?"

"I'm not living with Charles," Erik countered. "It was temporary, for the summer. And two years is a while."

"It'll go fast," Ruth suggested. "Hasn't the last three years?" Erik couldn't really disagree with that. "Besides, I would have thought you'd want to stick around, match up with Charles' plans this time. It's your turn, no? He does a lot as well, always coming to Mama's, having you stay at his place. When's the last time you saw his family?"

Erik stared down at the table. "His family is awful, even Charles doesn't want to go there," he replied. "Anyway, what do you mean, my turn—"

"Then he'd probably appreciate it even more if you went too!" Ruth interrupted. "So he has someone in his corner."

"I can't handle it there," Erik said stubbornly. "You have no idea. And anyway, he has his sister."

Ruth snorted. "Imagine if he said that to you. 'Sorry, your house is too small and your family is too poor, it's not what I grew up with, so I can't handle it'. Not great."

Erik scowled. "Shut up, it's not the same," he argued, but his discomfort with their conversation was increasing. Ruth looked unimpressed. "And I was asking you what you meant, about 'my turn', when you interrupted me."

"You know," Ruth sighed, poking at the remaining ice in her glass with her straw. "How he could have finished his whole degree in two years. But he stayed on, and did it at the normal pace. For you. So you could be in the same year and graduate together and whatever."

"What the fuck," Erik said, taken aback. "That's not true." He was starting to feel slightly nauseous, suddenly regretting all the fries he'd just eaten.

Ruth furrowed her brow. "I'm pretty sure," she said slowly, "that's the impression I got, when we were talking at Mama's birthday."

Erik remembered them chatting and laughing together on the lounge as he'd cleaned up the kitchen, Charles flashing him a smile every so often, and letting his usual admiration of Erik's powers at work show through their connection.

"What is it you really want, Erik?" Ruth asked, looking at him curiously. "I thought you were on the same page," she added. "It doesn't seem that difficult a decision to me."

Chapter Text

Charles

August

Charles pulled back from Erik's ass with one final swipe of his tongue. Erik had been whining and shuddering against him, pushing back for more, as his cock leaked onto the sheets. Now he let out a small whine from the loss of contact. It was so hot, Charles felt desperate to be inside him.

"How do you want me?" Charles murmured, rubbing the back of Erik's thigh with one hand as he reached for the lube with the other. Erik peered over his shoulder, face slightly red. Charles thought it was adorable that he still got embarrassed when all the attention was lavished on him. It was so sexy to watch him come undone, to lose himself in pleasure and let go of some of his customary stiffness. If only he knew how beautiful he was.

"Just like this," Erik mumbled, learning forward onto his arms and burying his head in the pillows. Charles smiled to himself. They still hadn't made progress on the eye contact thing when Charles was topping, but he didn't mind. The view was still good from here too. Charles slicked himself up quickly and wiped his hand on the sheets so he could grab Erik's tiny waist. He stroked down Erik's sides soothingly, sliding his cock up and down against Erik's crease, letting out a moan as he felt the head catch on his rim.

"Put it in," Erik growled, moving against him restlessly.

"Sorry, love," Charles chuckled. "You're so fucking gorgeous like this," he whispered. He gave Erik's ass one last squeeze, then finally let go to line himself up, and push in slowly.

They both groaned quietly as Erik's muscles rippled around Charles, just barely allowing the intrusion.

"Fuck, Erik, you're still so tight," Charles breathed. "God, you feel so good." He paused for a moment once he was fully seated, breathing hard and giving Erik time to adjust. Charles' thighs pressed up against the back of Erik's as he rolled his hips experimentally, prompting a high pitched sound from Erik.

"Okay?" Charles gasped, and Erik grunted an affirmation. Charles moved slowly at first, then built up a steady rhythm, rocking in and out, his balls slapping against Erik as he increased the pace.

Erik stayed mostly quiet — arms braced against the bed and only letting out small, bitten off sounds — but his mind was a litany of yesmorepleasecharlesyes. Charles could feel himself starting to lose control quickly as the heady feeling of Erik's desire mixed with his own. He batted Erik's hand away when he reached back to touch himself, taking over and stroking Erik in time with his thrusts.

"Oh love, fuck, you're taking me so well, " Charles moaned, draping himself over Erik's back, licking the salty sweat off his back, as he continued to move. Erik shuddered in response.

A few moments later, Charles used his free hand to brace himself against Erik's shoulder, for more leverage. "Oh fuck, Erik, you're gonna make me come," he warned.

Come on me.

Charles wasn't sure if Erik meant him to hear that. "Um, Erik," he said shakily, letting go of Erik's cock but still rocking in and out of him, his hips moving mindlessly as he struggled to stay present. "I'm so close, what do you want—"

"Come on me," Erik groaned in a low voice, reaching to touch himself again, his palm moving desperately along his length. "I want you to…"

Charles trembled as a bolt of lust surged along his spine. "Bloody hell," he muttered, trying to pull out as carefully as he could, without hurting Erik or pushing himself over the edge. Erik still hissed quietly as his hole twitched around nothing.

"Where—" Charles began, but was quickly hit with the mental image of his come splattering over Erik's ass, and he almost immediately obeyed the implicit command. He let out a strangled half-yell as his orgasm hit, wringing out every possible drop as he stroked himself through it. The sight of Erik, bent over, furiously jerking himself off, with Charles' come dripping across his hole and down his ass to the top of his thighs left him gasping for breath.

Seconds later, Erik pitched forward with the force of his own release, legs shaking. Charles pushed himself back up to kneel over him, softly kissing and caressing all the skin he could get to. "You're so beautiful, god, Erik, you're incredible," he babbled, "so good for me."

Erik didn't respond, still breathing harshly, eyes shut, and face pressed into the pillow. Charles' hand brushed against the sticky residue he'd left behind on Erik's ass. Feeling suddenly territorial, he rubbed it into Erik's skin with his thumb as he fondled him. Erik groaned softly at the action. Spurred on by his reaction, Charles made his way further down Erik's body and admired his handiwork briefly, before flattening his tongue and licking around Erik's rim again. This time the taste of him mingled with the slight bitterness of Charles' come. Charles kept licking him clean.

"You fucking pervert," Charles heard Erik mutter from the head of the bed.

"What!" Charles squawked, face burning as he abruptly pulled away. "Me? You—" Erik started laughing, getting louder as he craned his neck to look at Charles' face. Charles narrowed his eyes, which only seemed to make him laugh harder, to the point his whole body started shaking. "Fuck you," Charles shot back, but Erik's laughter was contagious, and he started to giggle. Charles felt a small tug on his necklace, like Erik wanted him to come and join him, so he gave in, crawling up the bed and letting himself be pulled into Erik's embrace.

~

The next morning they woke up at the usual time, but stayed lazing in bed, tangled in the sheets, legs entwined. Charles felt so cozy, he wished they could stay like that forever. He breathed in the way Erik smelled, nuzzled into his neck, as Erik stroked his hair.

"I spoke to my supervisor," Erik said, unexpectedly, "from McLaren. I mentioned I was considering a Masters and she made some recommendations."

Charles almost couldn't believe it. "That's amazing!" He turned his head so he could look more clearly at Erik's face, to see how serious he was. "Have you made the decision then?" He'd expected Erik to take a lot longer to think about it before taking any steps.

Erik's hand left Charles' hair, and he picked at the stitching on his pillow case instead. "I'm not one hundred percent. But I'm leaning that way, I guess. She thinks it's a good idea too."

Charles hugged him tighter. "That's so exciting," he replied, with genuine enthusiasm. "Are you considering anywhere in particular yet?"

Erik shrugged as well as he could with Charles wrapped around him. "Well… she went to Cornell, so she knows the program and some people there…"

"Oh, it's on Professor Stewart's list too!" Charles exclaimed. "I mean, obviously, it's a good school. But he knows some of the faculty too, and thinks it could be a good fit for me if I'm interested." He wriggled excitedly. "Oh my god, are we actually going to do this?"

"I haven't decided yet," Erik countered, "and then we would have to get in. Plus, it's a bit far. I haven't told Mama anything yet, I'm not sure how she'll take it—"

"Oh Erik," Charles cut in, with a laugh. "Of course we'll get in. And it's so close really. We can visit all the time. I bet she'll be so excited for you! She's so proud of you already, her bragging is going to go stratospheric." Charles thought of the look Edie wore whenever she talked about Erik with only a slight pang of jealousy.

Erik snorted out a laugh at that. "Well don't you tell her anything, okay? I'm still thinking." He looked at Charles seriously, holding his gaze. "Okay?" he repeated.

Charles nodded. "Of course, darling," he assured him. "I'm just so… I'm happy." He couldn't help himself and leaned forward to press his lips against Erik's mouth. Erik returned the kiss, relaxing into his arms.

After a few minutes, Erik pulled back gently, planting one last chaste kiss on Charles' forehead. "I have to go, schatzi, I want to go for a run before I head back home." Charles pouted a bit as Erik got up from the bed, but then got distracted by watching him move around the room, naked, as he gathered his sweats.

"Erik," Charles said casually, although his heart had started to race as he contemplated the question he was about to ask, "is your housing allocation already set for this year?" He propped himself up against the headboard.

Erik nodded and pulled a t-shirt on over his head. "Yeah, deadline was months ago."

"Can you cancel it?" Charles asked. "I mean, is it possible to?" Erik looked at him quizzically.

Charles took a deep breath. "Why don't you just stay here, this time?"

A surprised look flitted across Erik's face, his eyes softening briefly, but then he shook his head. "I don't think I should do that," he replied.

Charles' heart sank. "Why not? You're here all the time anyway."

Erik sighed, hunting for his socks. "Well, what would Armando do? For a start."

"I doubt he'd be bothered," Charles said with a small frown. "And maybe he could move in with Alex then, he'd probably be happier with that."

Erik returned his frown. "We shouldn't presume that. They've been together, what? Two months? Anyway, the scholarship covers my housing cost, I couldn't afford to live here, so—"

"Don't be silly," Charles interrupted, rolling his eyes. "You think I'd make you pay rent?" He laughed.

Erik looked annoyed. "What, and I just sponge off you?"

"No," Charles countered, trying to be patient. "Don't you already do all the cooking and most of the cleaning? Seems like an equal trade to me." He smiled hopefully.

But Erik only seemed to get angrier. "Oh, I see," he gritted out. "I'll work for you then, to pay the rent? That's what you want? I can be one of your 'staff'?"

"No!" Charles exclaimed, incredulous and embarrassed. "Fuck, that's not what I meant, I just thought— I meant we contribute different things, so it all balances out!"

"No," Erik said firmly, shaking his head again. "Not a chance."

"Goddammit, Erik," Charles sighed. "Why are you being like this? Can't the scholarship cover private rent too? You could just switch that, then you'd be paying too."

"It wouldn't be enough," Erik replied, stubbornly. "So, no."

Charles made a valiant attempt not to yell. "That is so stupid," he said. "I have the money, I pay for the apartment on my own already. You barely stay in your dorm, but you're determined to pay for that empty room instead?"

Erik's jaw was set. "Yes."

"And that's not wasting money?" Charles argued.

The volume of Erik's voice was rising too. "I am not going to owe you, Charles," he stated, crossing his arms. "I am not going to be in debt to you—"

"That's precisely what I'm saying!" Charles shouted, losing the battle with composure. "You wouldn't be. I don't want your money. Let me use my stupid fucking family wealth for something that makes me happy!"

"I'm going for a run," Erik growled, stalking out of the room.

"Why do you even stay here at all then," Charles yelled after him, "if it's so bloody painful for you?"

"Yeah, well, maybe I won't anymore!" Erik shot back, and the walls rattled with the slamming of the door.

~

The threat lasted for approximately 72 hours before Erik was back in Charles' apartment again — ostensibly to regain access to his geotechnical engineering textbook. Once acquired, the conversation evolved into apologies, at turns sheepish and tearful, and ended with the walls shaking for an entirely different reason. Somehow make-up sex was hotter than any other kind.

But Charles still felt frustrated that they could never have a discussion about money without it devolving into an argument. Erik was so touchy about the subject still, which worried Charles, as it was only going to become more relevant as they left their college days behind and moved into the 'real' world.

In a later, calmer, post-coital mood, Charles asked if their accommodation was still going to be an issue at Cornell, but Erik insisted that it would be different, because they could find a place together that fit his budget, and it wouldn't just be Erik encroaching on 'Charles' space'. Charles wasn't sure how that would work exactly, with their mismatched budgets, but he elected to just agree for the time being. He didn't want to jeopardise their still shaky plans.

September

Within a few weeks, their final year began, and things fell back into an expected routine. Professor Stewart was excited about Charles' decision, and was helping him with his application. As promised, he also put Charles in touch with some of his contacts at Cornell, so he could make some early connections. Charles was grateful and excited, the next steps of his future looking bright.

Charles was the only one of their group who wasn't yet twenty-one, but they eagerly discussed plans to celebrate his twentieth birthday as if it wouldn't be an issue, happy for a distraction from their studies already. They eventually settled on a night out to a local gay bar — they could probably sneak Charles in, and if they couldn't a tiny nudge with his telepathy could save their plans from disaster. Erik was surprised that Charles would agree to that as a possibility, but it seemed his excitement about the night out allowed his scruples more leeway than usual. Nearly everyone was looking forward to it as they arranged to meet up later that evening, but Erik had his reservations. Mostly dancing related.

"Don't worry, you're much better at drinking now," Charles encouraged him. "We've trained him well, right?" he asked Alex. Everyone laughed. "And once you're drinking, dancing will be easy."

"Who would have thought Charles would have been the bad influence, of the two of them," Angel giggled. Erik shot her a wounded look, but Charles wasn't sure on on whose behalf.

"I'm a great influence," Charles jokingly bragged. "I'm a study influencer too, now — Cornell should be paying me a finder's fee. Right?" he chuckled, looking at Erik.

"Huh?" Alex said.

"You're going to Cornell?" Armando asked. "Since when?"

Charles made a face as Erik's eyebrows made a mad dash for the top of his forehead. "Oops."

Erik sighed. "I guess I decided to go ahead anyway, it's fine." Charles cheered and pulled him into a hug. Erik smiled at him fondly. Everyone else looked bemused.

"Congrats?" Angel said. "I guess it's a double celebration!"

"Just don't let it slip like that to my family," Erik warned Charles later, when they were alone. "There'll be a whole interrogation, I promise you."

"Of course," Charles agreed, apologetically. "I'm just so excited now! We can start planning and looking at places!"

"Lets get through tonight first, schatzi," Erik chuckled.

Charles was proud to render Erik speechless when he first saw his outfit for their night out. The reaction might have made him nervous if it had not been accompanied by such a strong feeling of desire. He peeked at himself in the hall mirror again — the tight black jeans did curve around his ass quite nicely, he thought. And the eyeliner, that Raven had sent him a tutorial for, really highlighted the blue of his eyes, like she'd said it would. Within seconds Erik had clearly recovered, as he pressed up against Charles' back, lips on his neck.

"Maybe we should stay in," Erik murmured, hands moving lower. Charles laughed. It was always tempting, but he really was looking forward to going out with their friends. It was something he'd only dreamed of most of his life — a group of people that liked him? Where he could be himself and embrace all the elements of his identity? His younger self wouldn't have believed it.

Luckily it seemed that all it took for Erik to reconsider his stance on dancing was the attention Charles was getting once they made it into the club. Suddenly Charles couldn't go anywhere, even the dance floor, without Erik making it very clear that there was only one person he was going home with that night. Charles knew that to some people, the overt display of possessiveness might have felt constricting. But to Charles it felt more like belonging. Like someone was willing to fight for him. Like he meant something.

January

Senior year was flying by, as Charles got swept up in the intensity of his final project, and thinking more specifically about his graduate research. Erik was staying at his apartment again, but slightly less than he had been the previous year. He'd told Charles that maintaining his GPA was more important than ever, now that he was going to grad school.

Thankfully, Erik had also finally told his family about his decision, and Ruth was very excited for them both. Apparently Edie had tried to hide her worry about Erik moving further away from them, but Erik had seen right through it. However, she was also hopelessly proud of her son, and by extension Charles, wanting the best opportunities and future prospects for both of them. Charles tried not to bask too much in the borrowed warmth of her regard, in case he got too used to the feeling. His family had always expected that he would pursue further study, and weren't planning to make it to his graduation— they had business in Europe scheduled anyway. Charles hadn't been back for that past Christmas; Raven came to stay with him once the family festivities were over, instead.

Charles had overseen Erik's application submission, and by the time Erik's birthday rolled around, Charles was impatient and ready to move on to the next phase of his life. But he wasn't the only one.

"So, I'm sorry to take attention on this important occasion," Ruth joked, clinking her knife against her glass, as Edie had started to pack the leftovers from Erik's birthday cake away. "But since everyone is together, and we have been waiting as long as we could… Noah and I have some news." There was an unfamiliar hush at the table as everyone started at them for a few moments.

"Truly?" Edie breathed, breaking the silence. It's like she's the telepath, Charles thought to himself with a chuckle. Ruth had barely said anything.

Ruth laughed as Noah beamed, delight clear on their faces. "Yes," she replied. "Eight weeks."

"B’sha’ah tovah!" Edie exclaimed, rushing over to pull her into a hug.

After all the congratulations and excitement, and inspection of Ruth's belly to see if she was showing —"Of course I'm not," Ruth protested. "It's too early, stop looking at me!" — and then the sharing of the first grainy ultrasound picture, Charles noticed that Erik seemed deep in thought.

"Everything okay?" Charles asked tentatively, when they had a moment to themselves in Erik's room, later in the evening. Erik nodded, but didn't offer anything further. "Even though your birthday got usurped?" Charles joked lightly. Erik chuckled. "And you're such a glutton for attention," Charles added, sarcastically.

Erik rolled his eyes. "Everything's good."

"Are you excited about being an uncle?" Charles pressed, feeling sure he was holding something back. His reaction didn't really match the circumstances, in Charles' opinion. It wasn't exactly unexpected news. "Pretty cute. Uncle Erik."

"Feter Erik, please," Erik replied, with a grin. Charles was glad to see him smile.

"You're not worried about something then?" Charles queried further, wanting to make sure. A thought occurred to him. "Noah's gonna be a good dad, won't he?"

Erik grimaced slightly. "I'm sure he'll be fine," he conceded. He shifted in his chair and sighed. "It's just… August, right? We can still be close by when they're born, but then…"

"Oh!" Charles was surprised. He hadn't been thinking of that. "We'll only be a few hours away, remember. You can come and see them all the time."

"Mm," Erik hummed in agreement, but he didn't look entirely convinced.

"And there's Skype or video calls, and they can send you pictures," Charles continued, trying to cheer him up. "Babies don't really do much for the first two years anyway. Crying, eating, sleeping…"

"Hmm sounds familiar," Erik teased. "I guess some people never really move on."

Charles shot him a glare."I have plenty more hobbies, thank you very much," he replied hotly. "Very grown up, adult hobbies. Which you well know."

Erik laughed. "These hobbies sound intriguing," he said, pulling Charles into his lap. "Tell me more."

Erik

April

Erik was in class when his phone rang, but, seeing it was Ruth, he excused himself straight away to take the call. It was three months since they'd made the announcement, and Ruth was starting to show. They'd only just had a recent scan, and found out they were most likely having a girl. Edie's maternal instincts had gone into overdrive and Erik feared his room at home being entirely taken over by pastel wool and stuffed animals.

He was still feeling a little conflicted. It was clearly not a good enough reason to be wavering on plans to improve his future, but the prospect of leaving them all behind in the next few months made him feel uncomfortable and vaguely empty. He hadn't though that much about it before, but he was realising that he always expected to be there whenever he got a niece or nephew, watching them grow up. It didn't seem right to just catch up every now and then, hear about the milestones secondhand. Especially as Charles had seemed keen to get their living arrangements organised sooner rather than later in the summer, meaning they might be hours away even when his niece was born.

They'd received their letters of acceptance to Cornell at the beginning of the month, and Charles had bought some ridiculously old and expensive whiskey to celebrate. Erik knew he should be feeling happy. But he felt weird, and off-balance, at a time when he should be more focused than ever. Particularly if he wanted to succeed at his degree, and make it all worthwhile. Yet, even his idea of what success would look like seemed confused and fuzzy lately. Erik reminded himself of his supervisor, his professors, their encouragement in pursuing this. His Mama and Ruth too. And, of course, Charles. It should be the beginning of something exciting. It was just that everything had just been happening so quickly around him recently, it was like he couldn't get a foothold in his own life. Right now, he reminded himself, he only needed to get through the last few weeks of class and then final exams. Then maybe he'd get a minute to think it all through.

"Ruth?" he said as soon as he got into the corridor and could answer the call. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay, the baby's okay," Ruth replied quickly, but her voice was wavering. "Everyone's okay, really. I just knew you'd want to know. Mama fainted at work today." Erik's heart leapt into his throat at the words.

"What happened?" he demanded. "What do you mean, fainted?" He looked around wildly, as if he'd find the answers somewhere around him. "I'll come over right now—"

"Don't, Erik," Ruth interrupted. "I know you're worried, but she's fine now. She's here at home, and I'm here. The doctor came over, and he thinks she's just worn out and needs some rest, but they'll do some more tests later."

"Of course she's worn out, she doesn't fu— she doesn't stop!" Erik exclaimed, frustrated. "It's only worse now, getting ready for the baby—"

"I know that," Ruth said, sounding wounded. "I'm here all the time. She just doesn't listen to me when I tell her to take a break. Maybe she'll listen now that a doctor said it too."

Erik ground his teeth. "I'll come back on the weekend, then, if she needs to rest today. Give you a break too, you shouldn't be stressing yourself out now."

"I'm fine," Ruth replied automatically. She sighed. "We all just need to calm down, and let the doctor do the tests, and then go from there."

"Tell me when the next appointment is," Erik asked. "You know what she's like."

Ruth sighed again. "I know."

A few weeks later

Erik tapped his pen against the table as he waited, the hold music from his tinny phone speaker boring into his brain. He rubbed his eyes— too many late nights, hours of going over his notes in preparation for final exams. They were all supposed to be going out tonight, to drink and to celebrate. But he couldn't have been less in the mood. He'd barely slept at all last night, his mind running over the same tracks constantly. He needed to talk to Charles. Finally, someone picked up his call.

"Yes, hello," he replied, "I just wanted to confirm an appointment for my mother, Edie Lehnsherr?" He looked up at the sound and sense of keys jingling in the door, and tried to smile normally at Charles as he let himself in to the apartment. Charles returned his smile and gave him a little wave, before disappearing into the bathroom.

"Yes, half an hour before," Erik repeated. "I printed the form. Thanks." He hung up the phone and ran a hand through his hair. It's just a test, he reminded himself. To rule anything out. They might not find anything.

"Any news?" Charles asked, coming back into the living room and putting a hand on his shoulder.

Erik shook his head. "Just confirming the scan. At least Mama is taking some time off work for a little while, but I doubt she's actually resting."

Charles nodded. "I'm sure everything is going to be fine." Erik could only hope he was right.

"You look tired, love," Charles commented as wandered away to pull a mug out of the cupboard and fill the kettle. "Should you take a nap before tonight? It'll be no fun if you're exhausted and want to go home right away."

"You know I can't nap," Erik groaned, stretching his neck muscles. He paused for a moment. "Charles—"

"I know you've been really busy," Charles continued. "So I took some time to look at rentals today. I've made a sort of long-list of all the apartments in the area we wanted, and saved them to the spreadsheet."

"Charles—" Erik tried again.

Charles seemed deep in his own train of thought. "I know we haven't really talked about budget yet, so I haven't considered that so much, we can just see what's out there first and then—"

"Charles!" Erik cried out. "Can you just… for a second…"

Charles spun around, looking slightly shocked. "What?" he exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Can you sit down for a second?" Erik asked. "I need to… we need to talk."

Charles frowned slightly as he dropped a teabag into his mug and came over to join Erik at the table. "What's wrong?" he asked, sounding uncertain.

Erik took a deep breath. "Charles… I think, I mean, I've been thinking. I know you wanted— we both wanted, but the timing…" He huffed out a frustrated breath. It wasn't coming out right. What did he expect?

Charles' frown had deepened. "What are you saying?" He fiddled with the string of the teabag, and bit his lip.

"I don't think the timing is right," Erik said with effort, knowing Charles was going to be upset, but he was going to have to push through. "Right now, with Mama, and Ruth…"

Charles face fell. Erik's stomach clenched as he felt Charles' heartbeat speed up against the metal of the necklace Erik had given him.

"You're not coming, are you," Charles said quietly. It wasn't a question.

Half a dozen ways to respond ran through Erik's head. I'm sorry. It's just that right now… It doesn't mean…

"No," he replied.

~

Erik put his head in his hands. How is it going so badly? It felt even worse than he had pictured the previous night, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

"I just don't understand," Charles was saying again. "There are three months to go. Your mother is probably fine, didn't the doctor say it's just to be one hundred percent sure? You know I love her too, and it's been tough, but she's so strong. I'm sure she'll be fine." He paused. "You shouldn't be making this decision now, while you've been stressing out about exams and everything as well. You need to wait."

"It's not that," Erik argued, tired of going over the same points already. "I've been thinking for a while. I don't know if it was ever the right decision, and —"

"What do you mean?" Charles exclaimed. "We've been planning this for months. You talked to your supervisor and everything, we worked on your application together. Your family supported the whole thing. Have you told them you've been thinking of giving up?"

"No," Erik replied, frustration seeping into his voice. "I don't need to. It's the right decision."

Charles frowned. "Erik, if this is about the money again—"

"Fucking hell, Charles," Erik retorted. "It's not the only concern I have. No, it's not the money. I am capable of making a decision for other reasons."

Charles shook his head. "It's like you enjoy digging your heels in for the sake of it. You always do that, and then get pissed off and walk out. Can't we skip that part this time and get to the point where you realise you're being a jerk? Have you considered for a second how this decision might affect me?"

"It's not about you, Charles," Erik growled. "And it shouldn't affect you, anyway. Your plans don't need to change."

"Right," Charles scoffed. "So, I just—" He took a deep breath, eyes shut. "No, let's not do this. Let's just put the planning off for a bit, until you calm down, and make a decision later." His tone suggested that the discussion was over.

"I've already made the decision," Erik countered. "I don't know what there is to wait for."

"Jesus Christ," Charles muttered, getting up from his chair. "I don't…"

"I'm sorry you're upset," Erik said stiffly. He was. But it didn't mean he was going to back down.

Charles just stared at him.

"I know it isn't what you planned, but—"

"What I planned?" Charles laughed. "I thought we were—"

"Oh come on, Charles," Erik cut in. It wasn't funny. Charles was being wilfully obtuse. "You can't deny that this was your whole thing, and I was, I don't know, along for the ride—"

"Piss off, Erik," Charles shot back, but he sounded hurt, rather than angry. "That's completely untrue and I don't know why you'd say it." He looked like he was going to cry and Erik felt dread at having to face an emotional outburst. Charles shook his head. "I don't want to talk about this anymore, not right now. Even if you don't want to keep studying, we can work it out. You can still move in with me, and just do something else for a bit. Or whatever, let's talk about it later." He sounded sulky, like he wasn't getting his way and he didn't know how to cope with it.

"I don't know," Erik said slowly. He probably should just take Charles' out, put this confrontation off for later. But it felt like Charles was ignoring what he was saying, still trying to change his mind, and he was getting sick of it. "I need to rethink a lot of things. I've been completely off track lately."

Charles looked confused. "Where is this coming from? Everything's been fine!"

"My family needs me right now — Mama, and Ruth. I need to be there. And honestly, I've realised I would give up anything else for that. So, I'm just saying… Maybe it's for the best that we have some space for a while. To figure out what we really want."

"What?" Charles was incredulous again. "I know what I want. I thought I knew what you wanted, up until, what, the last thirty minutes? I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"That's exactly it!" Erik protested. "I don't know if that is what I want! I did think it was, for a while, but now everything is changing, and it reminded me… Even just seeing Ruth and Noah, getting ready for the baby and their plans and everything, and I think, I want that too, I mean, I wanted that before I started going off in this other direction…"

"Do you?" Charles asked, his expression bewildered. "You've literally never brought it up. What do you mean, what's changing?"

"I have talked about it!" Erik insisted. He was sure he had. "Anyway, I've always wanted it, it's why I came here in the first place, why I worked so hard. To set myself up, for family. For my family, and my future family, or whatever. And it's like I put it to the side, but I've been reminded again, by everything that's happening."

Charles looked taken aback. "But we can have that, I don't know what you're talking about. Lots of gay couples have kids." He let out a surprised laugh. "That's so far in the future, I don't even understand why that is relevant to this discussion."

"I know that they do!" Erik scoffed. "But that's exactly what I mean. There's so much you want to achieve right now, you have all these ambitions, you've got plans for years in advance…"

"I thought you did too! What, now at twenty-two it's time for you to settle down, just because your sister is doing it, it has to be this second? You're not making sense." Charles swallowed. "Honestly? It feels like an excuse." His face was turning accusatory.

"Of course not, not right this second," Erik sighed. "But it's not that far off. Not for me. You though, you're only twenty, and you've never even been with somebody else." He stood up, running his hands through his hair, then turned back to Charles. "Don't you want to live your life a bit more, experience things? I worry sometimes, that I'm holding you back. There's probably someone more… suitable, I don't know. It isn't… fair. To you."

"Don't fucking tell me what's fair to me!" Charles cried out, angrily. "More suitable? Fuck off. And now I need to experience things? I thought we were, together. But you, you and your whole two bloody years and what, three one night stands ahead of me, it's all figured out for you, all of a sudden?" He threw his hands up in the air. "So far ahead of me, my god," he added, sarcastically.

Erik didn't reply, trying to think, trying to shape his thoughts into the right words so Charles would understand what he meant. If only Charles could read his mind and just see that, know what he meant without him having to express it. But Erik was afraid of what he'd make of the maelstrom of thoughts and feelings, how he might see his uncertainty and confusion and leap on that. Erik needed to stay strong. Or at least look like he was.

"Why are you doing this?" Charles' face was turning red and his voice shook. "I feel like I am losing you right now, like you are already disconnecting from me and from everything we've had together." Erik saw that his hands were trembling. "Did I always mean so little to you? Have you been planning this? What the fuck is happening?"

"Of course not," Erik muttered. "I just, I need to be there. With them," he repeated stubbornly. That was the key thing; the other arguments just flowed on from that. If he could just get that part across…

"Be there then!" Charles exclaimed. "It doesn't mean… I don't understand why you're making this so final, why you have to make this about future and children and experience and whatever the fuck. It's not far at all, it's not like I'm going to the bloody moon. We can still stay together, we could—"

"I have to grow up, Charles," Erik tried to explain. The more they talked, the more it seemed to make sense that they needed to take a proper break, and stop being swept along by momentum. They lived in different worlds, and they'd just managed to avoid that fact for a little while. "I can't live a college life indefinitely. It's different for you, you don't have the same responsibilities—"

"Oh piss off, you always say things like that, like the world is solely a burden on you. We all have family, we all have—"

"I owe everything to her and she could be seriously sick!" Erik interrupted. "You don't understand. She did everything herself. In a foreign country. With two children and no job—" He could still vaguely remember snippets of what it had felt like, arriving in New York. Everything so different, so overwhelming, clinging to his mother's skirt as it all whirled around him, deafening.

Charles seemed embarrassed, his voice softening. "I know that, I know it was hard, I didn't mean—"

"My priorities used to be different Charles, they used to be in order, and I need to get them straightened out again." Erik's fists were clenched, his resolve hardening. "Less than two years ago I wouldn't have let things get like this, I would have noticed she was worn out, and wasn't well, earlier. There's something… I've changed, and I feel like I'm letting everyone down, and I think it's because I've been so focused on you."

Charles looked at him in stunned silence.

"I was so distracted, that first my grades, and then my plans, and now my family, it all got pushed aside, and I just got so caught up in you and it's not… it's not right."

As if the air had gone out of him, Charles slumped against the wall. "You sound like you regret it, like I ruined your life." He let out a watery laugh, like he couldn't believe what was happening.

Erik sighed. "Of course you didn't ruin it." He looked at his feet. "It's my fault. I lost focus."

"But you do regret it," Charles replied bitterly.

It only made Erik more frustrated, to feel like his words were being twisted. "Don't say that, I didn't say that," he countered. "I just need to stop living in this… bubble, where I get caught up and think I can live like you do."

Charles look pissed off again, irritation eclipsing his sadness, as he pushed himself off the wall. "Stop making out that we are so different, for fucks sake Erik!" he cried out. "You're acting like I live in this dream world, where nothing I do has consequences and I have no responsibilities or obligations—"

"It's not the same," Erik reiterated. Neither of them said anything else for a moment. Charles' jaw clenched.

"Yeah, I see it now," Charles said, eventually, crossing his arms. "Apparently this whole time I thought you understood me, that you saw the real me, it actually meant nothing to you." He shook his head, his eyes filling with tears. "No, you're the only one with a struggle, I'm just some rich boy you fuck, so you can take a vacation from your life, and now the holiday's over. Yeah?" He stared at Erik in defiance, as if trying to overcome his undeniable emotional response with sheer will.

Erik felt a fresh burst of anger at that. What a way to reduce everything between them, to make him out to be the bad guy, as if he hadn't been consumed by this thing between them. "No, that's not true, don't you dare say that to me," he gritted out. Looking at Charles, a sob threatened to claw its way out of Erik's throat. "I do love you," he said desperately. "I loved you, since… since the beginning really." He wiped at his eyes angrily, betrayed by his own, stupid body. "You've been in my head, you couldn't see that?"

"Then why are you doing this?" Charles yelled, taking a step towards him. Tears were slipping down his cheeks now, too.

Erik took a step back. "You got me so wrapped up in this thing, this experience I never had before, I never felt like this for anyone." He swallowed. "But I have to face reality—"

"I did??" Charles cut in. "You had nothing to do with it, I suppose." His face twisted with rage, despite the tears. "God, you make it sound like I made you do it, I made you fall in love, I swayed you from your ideal goddamn martyr path, fucking hell…"

Erik took a deep breath, his ears ringing and stomach churning with a sudden thought that took hold and wouldn't let go. "Well, I wouldn't know if you did, would I," he said quietly.

Charles froze. He stared at Erik. "What the fuck are you saying?" he bit out, voice suddenly icy.

Erik' stomach flipped immediately, but he couldn't stop himself continuing to speak, to try to explain what he meant. "I'm just saying… I know you wouldn't on purpose. I know…" He huffed out a breath, frustrated with his inability to articulate, again. He felt dizzy. He looked at Charles pleadingly, but he seemed so shut-off suddenly. "But maybe it happened, just a bit, without you knowing. Maybe it influenced things. It all felt so crazy, like this whirlwind, like this different life. Maybe I wasn't totally myself, and we just—"

"Get the fuck out," Charles spat.

Erik's eyes widened "Charles—" he began, starting to panic.

"Get the fuck out," Charles demanded. His face was contorted with hurt and anger. He didn't look like himself. "You cannot say that to me, you cannot think that, the idea—" He shook his head. "It makes me sick to my stomach." He looked up at Erik, disgust evident in every part of his expression. "How dare you—"

"Charles wait," Erik interrupted him, feeling like cold water was creeping down his spine all of a sudden. "I know you wouldn't, if you knew. I'm just considering the possibility—"

Charles didn't let him finish. "After all this time, you don't know me at all," he choked out, voice shaking. "You don't—That is the worst thing I have ever been accused of, by anyone." Erik felt the words like a punch to the gut. "Well done," Charles continued bitterly. "I can't even recognise you right now."

Charles, Erik tried. Listen to me, I—

Charles ignored him. "Maybe I didn't know you, even when I thought—" Erik felt like everything was crumbling down around him. Wait, Charles—

"I can't believe—" Charles shook his head, one last time. "I can't even look at you. Get out."

After he left Charles' apartment, not even sure if he'd taken all the things he needed, Erik went straight to the station and back home. His hands couldn't stop shaking as he tried to focus on all the metal around him and not think about what had just happened. When he let himself into the apartment, no-one else was there, but his mother, sleeping in her room. At least she's finally looking after herself, he thought mechanically. He shut his door and lay down on his bed, moving like he wasn't in charge of his limbs. As he always did, he forced himself to catalogue all of the metal in the room, all of the familiar objects, one by one. Cruelly his mind jumped instead to the feel of his chess set, still in Charles' apartment. He pushed the thought aside and tried to breathe deeply. He remembered the feel of the chain around Charles' neck, the hammering of his heartbeat as he'd yelled at Erik to leave. Erik groaned and rolled over, pulling his pillow over his head. Don't think about it, just don't think, he told himself. Just feel. He expanded his senses to the rest of the apartment, to the metal in the kitchen. The well-used utensils and appliances, the memories associated with each of them. His mother, his sister. Growing up, family. Exhausted from everything that had just happened, his mind lulled by the comforting objects, he finally fell asleep.

~

For a week, Erik didn't try to reach out to Charles. He stayed at home, looked after his mother, spent time with Ruth. He cooked and cleaned and took Edie to appointments. Every now and then, a panicked thought would surface. What if he hates me now? What if he never speaks to me again? He pushed them aside as best he could. He couldn't deal with that right now. His family could obviously tell something was very wrong immediately, but he didn't want to talk about it. He said that he and Charles had a bad argument, that they were taking a break, and he was focusing on other things right now. He explained that he wasn't going back to college after graduation and he wouldn't discuss it any further. He was going to get a job, just like he'd always planned. He tried to ignore the worried glances his Mama and Ruth exchanged, as his appetite lessened, and he went to his room early, but didn't sleep.

After Edie pointed out the dark circles under his eyes one morning at breakfast, Erik resolved to take better care of himself. The last thing he wanted was to become a burden to the people he wanted to help, after everything. He didn't need them worrying about him, not when his mother's scan had brought back 'inconclusive results', with the doctor recommending some more blood tests to explore further. No, he'd definitely made the right decision, and he was doing the right thing.

Erik had to admit he was hurt though, since he'd had time to go over their argument in his head. Charles had jumped to judgement so quickly, so willing to see Erik's suggestion as an accusation. How could Charles know it wasn't true, that he hadn't accidentally let his mind influence Erik's feelings? Erik didn't understand what telepathy felt like from the other side, but surely it got messy, being open to someone elses' thoughts? It wasn't like manipulating objects. If Charles could make someone see something different to reality, he could surely make them feel it too. Charles had said it himself— he could enter a mind without anyone noticing anything. It was only his own ethics that prevented him from seeing everything, and they'd be none the wiser. Who was to say that Charles' thoughts and feelings wouldn't leak over the connection? Erik had felt overwhelmed, nearly scared, by the feelings he'd had. Couldn't it be true that they weren't really his? Or maybe his to start with, but then increased, or amplified?

~

As they entered the second week without contact, Erik started to feel less sure of himself. He still thought he was right about them needing space, him needing to get his priorities sorted out again. But it was possible that he'd been too harsh, that he'd pushed too hard to try and create some healthy distance between them, and that Charles had been justifiably angry with him for implying that he'd influenced Erik's feelings. He knew Charles had been discriminated against before, as a telepath. It mustn't have been pleasant to feel like Erik couldn't trust him. In fact, it must have felt like… a betrayal. He remembered when they'd talked, way back, about humans always assuming the worst about mutations and how they could be used. The thought of being like them made Erik feel sick. Is this really who you've become?

As much as Erik had tried to avoid them since their fight, the feelings he had for Charles hadn't actually lessened in the time they'd been apart, like he'd expected them to. It was a bit humiliating, if he was honest. He thought he'd be more in control. But his dreams were full of Charles. He kept seeing things he thought Charles would like, or find funny. Sleeping in his own bed reminded him of the times Charles had been there with him. It was like a huge hole had been blasted in his life, an aching absence like a phantom limb.

On the tenth day, Erik caved and texted him.

He sent them in quick succession, not wanting to overthink it. But didn't matter how long he waited, distracting himself, his heart jumping with every ultimately disappointing notification. He never got a reply.

Erik knocked at the apartment door, getting more desperate with every second that he received no answer.

"Charles!" he yelled, both out loud, and in his mind. Charles, please. Just give me a minute, let me explain.

He knocked again, harder this time. After a few days of no responses to his texts, he'd tried to call. His heart had leapt for a second when he heard a voice— then it informed him that the phone number was no longer in use. He told himself that he wasn't freaking out, he just needed to talk to him. Just once, even. He could leave him alone after that, if that's what Charles wanted. Erik continued to knock.

A neighbour stuck their head out of their door, looking angrily into the hallway. "Hey, quit the racket!"

Erik rubbed his face with his hands, pissed off and embarrassed. He ignored them, and knocked on the door again. Charles, I'm going to open the lock in a minute. I need to talk to you. You don't have to… I just want to apologise. So, I'm giving you a warning— if you don't answer the door, I'm going to come in. He wasn't sure if he could actually do it, but he wanted Charles to know he was serious, that he wasn't going to be ignored anymore.

The neighbour was still talking. "…moved out a freaking week ago," Erik heard through the clamour of his thoughts.

"Wait, what?" he demanded, suddenly paying full attention. "What did you say?"

"The kid next door," the neighbour huffed, "moved out a week ago. So if that's who you're battering the door down for, can you give it a rest?"

The blood drained from Erik's face. A week ago? Did he start packing the second our argument was over? He wondered if he could have moved to Ithaca already. It didn't seem like enough time. Maybe he went back to his parents? Not likely... He started walking over to the elevator in a daze, knuckles sore, oblivious to the neighbour's muttered complaints and slamming door. He'd hyped himself up so much to see Charles again, to try and get him to listen, and now he felt totally deflated.

He texted Alex, but he replied with as much shock as Erik felt. It seemed Charles hadn't told anyone where he was going. Later, Alex confirmed that he and Armando couldn't reach Charles by phone. Erik's chest ached, and he actually felt fear creeping through his body for the first time since they fought. He wouldn't have done anything stupid, right? he worried. What the fuck have I done?

The next day he received a string of text messages from an unknown number.

(718) 593 2469

Erik, it's Moira

I have a box of things for you from Charles

Let me know when you can
pick it up

Erik hurried to reply, adrenaline pumping.

(718) 593 2469

Erik, it's Moira

I have a box of things for you from Charles

Let me know when you can
pick it up

Have you talked to him? How is he?
Where did he go?

A box? He'd forgotten about what he might have left in the apartment. Some clothes, and books, he supposed. Bathroom stuff. His chess set. Thinking of that gift, his stomach twisted. A box seemed… final. Like Charles didn't even want to be around his things anymore. Couldn't be reminded of him.

He couldn't stop jiggling his leg anxiously as he waited for a reply. He kept refreshing the screen, closing and re-opening the app, but no message arrived. Eventually he gave up, and texted again.

(718) 593 2469

I have a box of things for you from Charles

Let me know when you can
pick it up

Have you talked to him? How is he?
Where did he go?

I can pick it up today?
Where ru?

Moira replied instantly, asking him to meet her outside the library. He grabbed his jacket and headed out.

~

As Erik approached, Moira looked at him with thinly concealed contempt.

She gestured to the box at her feet. "For you," she said, and then turned on her heel to walk away.

"Wait," Erik called out desperately, "Moira, please. Where is he? Is he okay?"

Her eyes narrowed as she turned back to him. "He's fine," she replied. "No thanks to you."

Erik sighed with relief, even though she was clearly angry with him. He wondered what Charles had told her. "That's good," he said numbly. "Where—"

Moira glared at him as she cut in. "He's gone. To study, like he was always going to."

Ignoring the dig, Erik couldn't help but check. "He's in Ithaca already then?" What about graduation? What about… Never mind. Remember, it isn't that far away. Maybe if I give him some more time to cool off, then…

"He's gone back to England," Moira replied bluntly. "It seems he had to go halfway around the world to get far enough away from you."

Erik blinked, dumbstruck. He couldn't form words. England? But why..? He must be coming back, he just wanted to get away for a while… Moira shook her head and walked away, leaving him there, with the box.

As he leaned forward to pick it up, body moving automatically, he sensed the metal form of his chess set, a few zips from his clothes, a razor. And then something smaller, and more familiar.

A delicate chain, and a small double helix pendant.

With that, Erik knew. Charles wasn't planning on coming back. And even if he did — he wasn't coming back to him. It was over.