Aerials

"Swimming through the void

We hear the word

We lose ourselves but we find it all" - System of a Down

The only day I regretted having this gift, this mutation, is the day I could feel Erik Lehnsherr's presence.

I remember it was an exceptional sensation, one that sends shivers up and down my spine even to this day. I was aboard a ship, with a few federal agents, hoping we could somehow surprise our target before he knew we had arrived.

Erik was hellbent on revenge against a man who—quite frankly—deserved to be massacred by the humans he hated so much. (It was obvious he despised them from the way he disposed of those whom were headed toward his ship; like flies being swatted.)

Shaw was a man—if something that horrendous could still be deemed a man—that considered little to be 'crossing the line' when it came to humans. If Hitler was a devil among men, then Shaw was the devil who taught him how to blend in.

I couldn't deny that, after delving a bit too deeply into my friend Erik's mind (before even knowing him well enough to do so), I'd wanted Shaw locked in a cell too small to live in, too small to escape from, and most of all, shrouded in darkness for eternity. But I digress.

As I felt the anger building inside of Erik, I knew I had to intervene before he did something that, ultimately, would change both of our lives for the worst. And I knew I wasn't wrong in thinking that as I jumped into the water—regretfully, not clothed enough for the temperature—and swam toward a man who was drowning in more ways than one.

"Erik," I couldn't see him through the crashing waves, I choked on a mouthful of water, "Erik if you don't let go, you'll die!"

The panic that permeated through my words clashed with, what I thought, was my ability to always keep my cool during situations like these. Why was it that I felt more attached the more I approached the infuriated and desperate man?

"Erik," I called again. "I know it's hard, but let go. There will be another chance, I promise." I finally swam close enough to grab hold of his shoulder. "I'm a friend, trust me."

Erik's intensity lessened; his grip on the fleeting submarine slowly dissolving as he turned to look at me. And I must say—almost to my misfortune—that my heart nearly stopped with the look that he gave. He pushed my arms away in a cold manner.

"Who are you?" Erik asked in a tone that was both defensive and curious.

"I'm like you," I smiled as warmly as I could, given the circumstances.

Erik's features softened instantly, his eyebrows rising in a way that said it was too incredulous to be true. "I thought I was alone," he let me put my hand back on his shoulder (in a consoling way I assure you).

"You're not alone," I signaled the boat I had jumped from to pick us up.

And the rest was history.

We became close friends in a matter of weeks—which felt more like years—as we shared our past experiences, our differences, our goals of course, but most of all, companionship. I had found someone to share the burden of responsibility with when it came to taking care of our fellow mutants, and he had found a place in me where he could come for tranquility and reassurance.

We were like two halves of a story which represented the mutant race as a whole. We were the light and darkness of our species, bound together by fate. If I told Erik any of this, however, I'm certain he'd laugh in a way that could provoke me to sever our ties for as long as I could fathom possible.

And between you and I, I am quite unpleasant if need be.

Just as I chuckled with that thought filling my mind, said man walked into my room—without knocking as usual—and leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, and a crooked smile spreading across his lips.

"Can I help you Erik," I barely looked up from the book on genetics I picked out from the Oxford library. "Or is it time for our daily chess game and I forgot again?"

Erik's mind was off limits; he had warned me many times about reading his thoughts when I could simply ask him what he was thinking. In return, he promised we would never lie to each other.

It seemed to work well for the most part, except when he looked at me like that. And by that I meant with his eyes as black as night, but nothing else to reveal what exactly was on his mind—besides the way his lips curled upward of course.

"Charles," Erik purposely rolled his tongue, blinking slowly. "Don't you think you could use a break. Hmm?"

It wasn't so much a question as a recommendation. It translated roughly to 'you look like hell because you're too consumed in that book, and I want to do something we'll regret later'.

"If it's a question," I tried to fight back a smile, failing miserably. "Then no, I don't believe I do. I'm quite content actually."

Erik sighed, walking toward me, his hands deep in his pockets, with each step screaming predator. "Dear Charles," nothing good could come from him when his sentences began like that. "You know I love you, right?" He leaned in, both hands placed firmly on either side of my book, his gaze stealing my own before I could force myself to look away.

Without a doubt, I thought, but his ego was big enough.

"Perhaps," The word caught in my throat, making him realize he did—in fact—have the upper hand again.

Erik swung his fingers without looking, forcing the door to close just by using his power on the knob; he was getting frighteningly good at controlling….things.

"See, I know you do," Erik was cupping my face again, slamming by book shut, and discarding it without a second thought. "So why won't you admit that, and make this so much easier for both of us?"

I panicked as I saw his face nearing mine; my mind automatically diving into Erik's against my will

.

Charles I want you so bad, I don't even know what it means to want something like this.

It hurts to be around you without being able to fuck you after all the things we've been through together.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I hope he kept his promise and isn't listening in because this is embarrassing,

and I don't think I could ever look at him again. Ever.

I snapped out of the trance I was in, only to find that he was still waiting for my permission, still waiting for me to open my eyes (literally, and figuratively) and acknowledge my own feelings. Erik's mouth was deadly close to my own, his warm breathing sliding over my lips in a way that can only be described as unexpectedly soothing.

I blinked, my tongue darting out to lick over the nervous, dry skin of my lips. He was watching so closely, his Adam's apple jumped in his throat as he imagined it was his own tongue lapping over my lips (unfortunately I listened in again).

"Erik," His eyes immediately met my own. "How would I explain this to our students? To the CIA? To all the new people we come across when I use Cerebro?"

His jaw moved beneath the skin of his mouth, clearly grinding his teeth together; a sign that I needed to either apologize or shut up if I didn't intend to be killed in the next few seconds.

"I mean," I moved his hands away gently, holding them in my own. "What would happen to our friendship? How professional could we be if we became romantic with each other?"

Erik looked away, somewhat disappointed, but not discouraged. "You'll come around," He forced a smile to let me know he was still okay. "Or I'll make you come around." He kissed the top of my hands in unison, "You know you can't deny someone as wonderful as me."

I laughed softly, pulling a hand away to point at my discarded book. "But for now, do you mind?" I smiled as sweetly as I could.

It wasn't false hope or anything; I was really fond of Erik. Fond in ways that keep you up at night, wishing you could conquer your fear of the unknown and just abandon all insecurities, replacing them with what your heart truly wanted.

In my case, it was Erik above and inside me. But if I told him that, I would never have a moment where he wasn't trying to seduce me, or remove an item of my clothing. How it got to this point, I'll never comprehend. Maybe I should learn to be less friendly with strange men I find in the ocean.

That in itself reminded me of how far we'd come together, how close we had become in such a short time. The level of comfort that I felt with Erik would have taken me more than just a few months with anyone else, I was certain. But that did not prove that our friendship was ready to evolve into a full-blown romantic relationship. Though, it pained me to say that, even to myself.

With the warning that Erik gave me, I wasn't quite myself for the next few days (weeks maybe—really who was counting?), and sadly couldn't concentrate on much more than preventing any and all attempts to seduce me in front of other people. It was one thing to cup my face, kiss my hands, or hug me when we were in each other's rooms, but it was completely unacceptable to have the new students thinking I was just some spineless man who thought about nothing but having sex with Erik—which I did lately.

Almost as though he was the one with the telepathic power, Erik strolled past me in the hall way—as I was on my way to either relieve myself (since I hadn't in months) or make some tea—looking smug, handsome, confident, but especially mischievous.

He had a plan up his sleeve, of that I was sure.

Needless to say, I took my time walking to my room later that night. I peered around every corner, walked with a silence that only ninjas could, kept my back to the wall as I neared my room—just in case he was lurking nearby.

What was wrong with me? I must have had a bad batch of Earl Grey or something of the sort.

I sighed of relief when I realized he wasn't going to just tackle me like a football player from down the hall, and force me to moan embarrassingly loud in plain sight. Letting my shoulders finally drop to a comfortable state, I shut the door with my foot, without turning around.

"Charles," Erik said behind me, from where—I can only guess—the door was hiding him previously. "So glad you finally made an appearance."

I could almost hear his lips curving into a grin that I know would make me want to throw my tea to the win, and drop my pants once I saw it. So I, obviously, didn't turn around.

"Oh wait, this is your room, right?" Erik cleared his throat, hiding a chuckle. "I could have sworn it was mine."

Yes Erik, you're charming, you're funny, you make me want to climb out of my clothes as we speak, but I'm not going to give in without a fight.

"What is it now, Erik?" I say, with more calmness than we both expect. "You want to fuck, I get it." But I will not succumb; I will not be your toy.

And then there was an awkward silence.

He looked betrayed or maybe disappointed again; I couldn't tell which was worse at the moment. Erik turned to face the door I'd come from, the knob turning without a single touch. It creaked open with a slow, resounding sound, one that gave me enough time to realize he wanted me to listen in. Now.

Placing a finger to my temple to improve the 'reception' as he called it, I stepped into the unpredictable void that was his mind (for what I hoped was the last time).

I told you so many times that I love you. If you don't get it by now, then I give up.

I don't chase after people, nor do I know how to do this kind of shit properly,

so don't expect me to be all calm and collected like you, Xavier. Take it or leave it, buddy.

Before I could take back what I was about to say, it came out. "Erik," I took a deep breath. "I do want you, too."

Erik turned around promptly, a grin painted across every muscle of his face. From his low brows to the creases at the connecting point of his lips, it was noticeable from a mile away that he had never been happier. I really did want him, especially when he was innocent and excited like this.

Before I could make a comment about how I must have been the presents under his tree for Christmas, he came dashing towards me, pinning me to the nearest wall –which was the one of course, right next to my bed—and he kissed me with so much passion and relief that I couldn't help but settle into the moment myself.

Erik moaned after each long kiss, which surprised me considering he was so 'manly' usually. I reciprocated—in my own way, mind you—my fingers tickling along delectable ribs and a muscled framed. With or without a shirt, I could find what I wanted to touch.

As usual, the mind reader that he was, he threw his shirt across my room most unceremoniously, mine following soon after. I wrapped both arms around him, low on his waist (since I was shorter), palms searching his hips and waist and stomach for more heat than I could handle.

Erik responded most delightfully by pressing his hips closer into my own, a growl escaping the both of us simultaneously. "Okay," he said, breathless, wanting, horny. "Way too much clothes on between us, Charles."

I nipped his lip playfully, undoing his buckle all the while so he couldn't notice until his pants fell to the ground with a 'clang' (from the belt mostly). Was this a good time to make a magnet joke?

"Do you keep metal in your pockets in case there's none around?" I snickered softly against his ear, licking the shell, and kissing a spot below his jaw.

The grumble-moan that followed startled me, but I continued to chuckle like a schoolboy and he threw me on the bed roughly. "Don't make fun of me, Professor Exhausting."

I nodded, licking a bead of sweat from his neck as he stripped me of my pants and boxers in two seconds flat. I wondered if he'd planned this all out for the past few weeks, in case I changed my mind.

Handcuffs came levitating from somewhere below my bed. I did not own any, I thought. Erik pushed my wrists above my head, intertwining my bedframe and the cuffs. They snapped in place loudly. I should have checked for metallic toys beforehand.

Without a doubt he had planned this all out.

"Well then," I said flatly, leaning up to bite his lip. "You'll be missing half the fun." Erik rolled his eyes, taking my lips between his teeth, sinking in just enough to taste blood.

"I guess that will have to wait until I care," he whispered into my ear, his hand toying with one of my hip bones. "But right now," his fingers found their way to my very hard, very throbbing cock. "Charles, don't you dare come yet."

I needed this, needed it with all my body and soul. His callused fingers squeezed, then jerked slowly, then quicker at the tip where I could feel it was slick from pre-come. "Say it, I've been waiting."

My eyes screwed shut, his fingertips playing along the slit of my cock, as the other held the base firmly in place. It was heaven and hell and a mutant connection all rolled into a ball that selfishly, stubbornly made its way to the center of my stomach.

"Say what," I panted, trying not to look at him directly because of how gorgeous he smile was. "Whatever do you mean, darling?" If he could hide handcuffs under my bed, I could continue to be coy.

Erik let out a cynical laugh; it made my skin burn from the want I could hear behind it. "Charles, really," he jerked faster, faster, then stopped completely when my heart was beating so fast I thought it might implode. "I can see how close you are, I know how much you like my fingers on your body. I know you want me inside of you. Just fuckin' admit it, Xavier."

I couldn't deny any of that. And he knew that calling me Xavier was not only painful to hear, but that it made me feel oh-so-submissive and ready to just let myself be fucked mercilessly and without preparation. But this was our first sexual contact, not to mention we both hadn't done it with a man.

"Okay," I hummed as he tasted the precome on his fingers, lathering his hand with saliva to stroke my cock. "Erik," I long drawn out moan escaped me; his cock throbbed against me. It was a welcome distraction to all the dirty things his mind was telling me. "I lov—"

Erik found this to be the right time to test the waters of blowjob-giving. And believe me, it made me curious as to if he had had boyfriends in the past. Maybe a little experimenting in his youth.

He grinned, a popping sound flowing through the room (perhaps even my bones) as he released my cock from the warm paradise that was his mouth. "What were you saying? I couldn't hear with all the moaning."

I wanted to smack the smirk off his face; he was cruel, he was cocky, he was..sexy.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," I spat out, pushing my hips up and closer to the ecstasy island between his lips. "Happy now?" I couldn't believe how pathetic it sounded as it came out.

"Perfection," Erik swallowed my cock, his tongue snaking over the tip and along my shaft—trying to drive me insane, I'd assume. All at once it stopped, and I arched up in the direction he pulled away. "I love you too, Charles."

The smile that followed, sweet and innocent and greedy, frightened me to my very core. Not because it was unlike him—which it was—but because of how much I liked it. I just knew that this man would be the end of me, eventually.

With little to no warning, his mouth is wrapped around my cock once more, sucking and moaning and jerking at the skin as though there is some treasure to be found deep inside me. The cuffs fought against me as I tried to run my fingers through the hair of the man who is driving me mad. "Erik," I forced out between frantic moans and gasps. "I'm close, too close—"

"I'll take it," Erik smiles against my cock, nibbling over the head a few times, then swallowing everything, my length disappearing down his throat.

A low scream breaks through my vocal chords, one that I wish I could have controlled considering how loud it actually was. And then I could care less because he rolled his tongue over the head, and I'm gone somewhere I didn't know existed between people, let alone two men. The last thing I heard for a few moments is Erik growling because he had been jerking himself the entire time and I hadn't noticed, sadly.

I was lost, in the skies perhaps, although I couldn't fly even if I tried. But somehow Erik is there with me and we're kissing, and I feel him underneath my skin and deep within me.

Shallow breathing woke me from the fantasy land, and I was glad that Erik had come to his senses and removed the handcuffs. The last thing I recalled saying was: "Where did all the sperm go?" I was only half serious, but it fooled Erik enough to make him laugh nonstop for a minute.

I couldn't say I didn't enjoy his happiness, especially if it meshed with my own.