This could have happened in a bar in the middle of nowhere in the year 1962 and Charles and Erik are still bent on creating their own mutant army with little to no success. I don't own anything.

XXX

You are not the CYP2E1 Gene I have

XXX

Alcohol makes Charles friendly and bold and a little too easy for it to be fun. They are seven hours south west of the CIA base and the mutant has vanished in a quick burst of high energy.

Charles loses him before he has even found him and Erik is just irritated with all the unnecessary drama.

They wallow in disappointment and annoyance, the first is consuming for Charles and the latter is all Erik. So they drink and they drink and Charles is leaning heavily on him. Erik tries his hardest to stay still, allow the man some comfort he can't offer with harsh laughs and dry words but he has been in a self-centred solitary for too long.

The touch and smell of another mutant so close makes him uncomfortable and the irrational need to comfort those wounded eyes is even worst. Erik feels warm skin pressing into him and he reaches out to steady the other against his own stool.

Charles slumps over the bar top and turns his head to catch his gaze.

"I have a gene."

It seems important and Erik feels as though he is supposed to understand. But he doesn't and neither does he try. He orders another round before turning back to the hazy blue eyes that are blatantly staring.

"It's called the CYP2E1 gene."

There isn't a shred of shame or acknowledgment. Just a pointed statement that comes off harsh and too much like a confession Erik should be sympathizing with. But Charles' eyes are really too blue and he lets out breathlessly.

"…And?"

"It controls," Erik doesn't understand how come his words don't slur, "the metabolic processing of alcohol."

"Is this a new flirting technique you are testing out?"

Erik tries a smile but it is more teeth than lips and settles for a dry humored smirk but Charles only shakes his head against his arms, cushioning him against the worn wooden bar, "…it is associated with alcohol response or a low sensitivity to it."

"I don't think I follow, Charles."

"…I am prone to alcoholism, Erik."

He states, easily like one is talking about dinner but there is fear in his eyes and tongue and he reaches out to clutch at Erik's sleeve. Their drinks are placed in front of them and he doesn't let go (because this is in his blood and Erik may be the only one who can help.)

Erik doesn't have the comfort to offer or the tears to shed for him. He is silent and hopes it pass.

But Charles isn't full of mercy and continues.

"Now, do you understand?"

He is cruel in ways he has never imagined him to be. Erik tilts his head back with another drink. And Charles does the same.

It is almost condemning, the way alcohol washes all the pain away.

XXX Kuro

I wanted to write a mutants-gone-wild!alcohol-party-with-only-Charles-and-Erik. And really, I think it's time to give up my visions, they never turn out remotely similar anyway D: