Full Summary: Charles is a happy go lucky professor, and for some reason, Erik can't stand him. He finds him to be obnoxiously peppy and emotional. But after overhearing a disturbing phone call between Charles and someone, Erik's opinion of the telepath changes. When an old friend shows up to visit, Erik becomes suspicious of his relationship with Charles.
Warnings: M for sexual content/possible non-con in later chapters. If it's not your cup of tea, click away please.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters
Author's note: This is my first fanfic, kindly go easy on me.
Erik didn't hate him, per se. No, it was more of an intense dislike. A dislike so intense, in fact, that Erik couldn't stand to be in the same room as the peppy little-well, the last bit goes without saying. The enthusiastic, baby-faced graduate that earned so much of his dislike went by the name of Charles. He spent his free time fawning over his students, prancing through the corridors with a literal bounce in his step, and eating all of the popsicles in the communal fridge. Or at least that's how Erik saw things.
Having just settled in, Erik took to wandering the halls of the mansion and familiarizing himself with what was apparently his new home. It was odd to think of it that way; home. He hadn't a place to call his home in years. But Charles, ever the optimist, assured him that he would feel a part of the family in no time. He hugged him, Charles hugged him when he said that. Erik revisited the memory with distaste. According to a scrawny ginger named Sean, his reaction to the sudden violation of personal space was 'too funny, bro'. He grimaced, recalling Charles' hot breath against the nape of his neck as he practically lept into his arms. It had been uncomfortable and strange, the younger man's mess of brown curls tickled his chin and left him with a lingering scent of lilacs. Erik shook himself of the memory.
It was nearing noon, signaling the second round of training for the day. Begrudgingly, Erik made his way out of the mansion and across the lawn to begin their session. He hated to admit it, but Charles had actually made some progress with the students. They were eager to learn and responded to Charles' optimistic enthusiasm. Erik stood on the sidelines as he watched the man let out a bark of laughter and give that peekish scientist named Hank a pat on the shoulder. He was congratulating him on some feat of accomplishment, though Erik was sure it wasn't anything too spectacular. Charles was gesturing about wildly, a broad grin lighting up his features as he rambled on. With an audible whoop, he flung his arms around Hank and spun him around. The scientist blushed furiously but returned the embrace with equal exuberance. Erik chuckled under his breath at the scene. Whatever Charles' methods were, they were working.
Later that evening, when the students were spent and gone to bed, Erik took to wandering the halls while Charles entertained himself with a glass of scotch in his bedroom. For all the chaos that the house endured, it seemed oddly empty at night. There was a countless number of rooms that Charles himself had yet to explore. As he turned around what must have been the hundredth corner that night, Erik found himself before an unfamiliar set of doors. They were impressive in size, but aged and weathered, presenting an ominous aura. Erik felt the sudden urge to inspect whatever was behind those doors, but he thought better of it. This wasn't his house, no matter what Charles claimed. He stopped in mid-retreat as a voice, barely audible, spoke from behind the doors. Erik felt a prickling of unease in his mind. Pressing his ear to the ragged surface, he strained to listen. Silence at first. Then the muffled voice was heard again.
"I don't know why you would ever think that this is a good idea."
It was Charles.
A surge of curiosity hit him. Why was Charles in that room? Who was he talking to? What wasn't a good idea?
Erik silenced the stream of questions and listened.
"After all you've done, do you really think I'd allow you back in my life?" Charles spoke with an air of distaste that Erik had never heard from him. He could feel the bitterness in his voice.
"I won't-no, don't you dare-"
A growl of frustration and a slight scuffling commenced, followed by a crash. Without a second thought, Erik flung the doors open and stalked inside.
He expected the room to be dank and unkempt, considering the condition of the doors. But the interior was warm, decorated with memorabilia and family photos. Charles sat on a large bed carelessly stripped of its linens, shards of glass littering the surface. His head was in his hands as violent sobs racked his body.
Erik stood in stunned confusion. He didn't understand. He wanted to understand.
"Charles. Oh, Charles." Erik strode across the room and kneeled beside him. His hands hovered in front of him, unsure of what he should do with them. But Charles saved him from the responsibility as he scooted off the bed and wrapped his arms around Erik's neck. The weeping man held onto him like a lifeline, his unrelenting sobs filling the air. Erik felt a deep ache in his chest at the sound. He held Charles close, stroking his hair gently and muttering words of comfort in his ear.
Hours passed and Charles' sobs turned to soft hiccups. His breathing slowed and steadied. Erik could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against his chest as he carefully lifted Charles from their tangled position on the floor. There was no way he was letting him stay in this room tonight. Glass crunched under his shoes as he made his way across the room and into the hallway. The only option was to take Charles to his own bedroom. He couldn't just leave him on a couch for the students to see. They would ask questions. Questions Erik didn't know the answers to.
Charles was a heavy sleeper. Save for the occasional mumblings in his sleep, he was out. Erik himself settled onto the armchair in the corner. Sleep didn't come easy to him that night. His thoughts were racing. Who could have caused Charles that much turmoil? And why?
Erik felt his outlook slowly shifting. He couldn't explain it. There was a strange desire to protect growing inside him. The need to keep Charles safe was stronger than other he possessed. And there wasn't a single thing on earth that could challenge it.
