FOREWORD: Hi there! My very, very, very first fanfiction – very nervous, very tentative at having my wildest imaginings posted and subjected to critique/comment/praise/insult/condemnation. But please do R&R! Thanks!
(Oh and I don't own any of the characters, yada yada.)
Heat.
That was all there was. Beneath the palms of his hands, beneath the scrape of his callused thumb, beneath the soft cotton shirt that hid the broad expanse of tanned chest.
Lips, not soft but slightly chapped, brushed the sensitive nape of his neck, puffs of warm breath through his light brown hair.
Charles Xavier, telepath and possibly the most powerful man (or rather, not man) on earth, stretched out langoriously, relishing the feeling of warmth and lust wrapped in a six-foot tall body -
And then he woke up.
"Shit," was his first instinct to blurt out.
Hi voice, slightly husky from sleep, reverberated off the walls, making him feel foolish instantly.
"There is a world to save out there and I'm in here, having dreams no sane person would have -," he cut himself off, realising it only made him even more foolish.
"Talking to myself, great," he mumbled, swinging his legs out of bed.
He stumbled a little on his jeans, which he had dumped on the floor the night before, too exhausted to care.
Kicking it away with a growl, he pulled open the doors of his not-inconsiderable closet, which was filled with crisp shirts, sharp pants and the occasional ribbed sweater. And more shirts. Lots of shirts. It seemed he wore nothing less than a suit everyday.
His almost-naked skin chilled in the cold morning air as he walked to his window, pulling his shirt (pale blue, with white pinstripes) on.
From his windows he saw that half of his XMen were already on the lawns, practising not killing or maiming each other, and the sorry-looking mannequins he had procured for them to train on.
One of such sorry mannequins no longer had an arm and lost its head entirely. The rest were quite singed.
If the plastic figures had indeed been human... Well.
Charles began to walk downstairs, to his kitchen, a fond half-smile on his face, when he heard loud snores from the room next to his.
Stopping just in front of the double doors, he closed his eyes and sensed, in his mind, the breathing, warm body sprawled across the bed, completely naked (figures).
The body was very much sleeping, mind at ease with no nightmares... Although there was a strange lingering feeling he could not quite place..oh never mind.
Charles opened his eyes, sighed, and continued to his breakfast.
It turned out to be soft-boiled eggs. Which he hated, but also waffles, which he liked, despite them being sacrilegious to his English sensibilities.
Raven, his shapeshifting adopted sister, was nursing a cup of steaming coffee. Usually normal in appearance, she clearly wasn't bothering this morning, all blue and red with a white robe to keep her body from the cold.
"Morning Charles," she husked.
"Morning, Raven." Charles looked at her closely. "You're not changed."
She looked at him, eyes bleary.
"Yeah. Need my strength." She took a sip of her coffee, and sighed.
He laughed, a small chortle.
"Bad night? That'll teach both you and Alex to break into my liqour cabinet," he teased.
She looked at him, guilt in her eyes but defiance in her chin.
"No we didn't-" she paused. "Oh, whats the point you probably read our minds anyway," she sulked.
Charles feigned indignance. "Did not. But I don't need my powers to see my entire stock of 12-year whiskeys are gone, not to mention my tequila bottles," he said, reaching out to lift her chin. "I'm just happy you did not get to my Scotch. That's for me.. and Erik," he said.
Planting a kiss on her forehead, he told her to go back to bed and sleep it off. She merely groaned and sank into her coffee again.
He poured an extremely generous amount of syrup on his now-cold waffles, when a voice at the doorway said "You are going to get fat from all that sugar, Charles."
The voice was a touch waspish, and slightly annoyed.
"Wrong side of the bed, my friend?" asked Charles, without turning around.
Cutting a slice of pure sugar and carbohydrate, he put it into his mouth and grinned to himself inside at the hiss of annoyance that came from the tall, dark-haired Erik, who as per usual, was dressed in nothing more than sweatpants.
"Fat," said the voice.
Erik Lensherr sat down heavily on one of the stools at the kitchen counter, and grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit.
The apple had seen better days.
Erik tossed it away with a grunt, and opened the fridge without moving from his chair.
He surveyed its (scanty) contents and grunted again.
Charles, without shame, picked up the plate stacked high with waffles, said "Waffles?"
With a snarl, Erik sent a metal spoon flying at Charles's head, which Charles easily stopped.
"What has gotten into you, Erik?" asked Charles not without a touch of concern. While Erik was no morning glory, he was not quite the shrew in the morning either.
"No bloody breakfast," mumbled Erik, running his fingers through his short, dark hair, pushing it up in spikes.
"I will make an omelette for you," offered Charles.
Erik shuddered.
"God no. The last time you did I thought metal was twisting in my insides," he said.
Charles looked affronted but oddly vindicated.
"See? Eggs. Horrible." He went back to his waffles as Erik sighed, and picked up one also.
Munching, Erik walked out into the sun and Charles, intending to ask him to practise moving cars later, looked up -
And his breath hitched in his chest.
The sun, bright and warm, dappled his friend's chest in yellow and gold, highlighting his dark hair an odd, but beautiful shade of bronze.
In that moment, the dark and usually tormented Erik looked like a gold Greek statue.
Charles gulped and hastily went back to his waffles as Erik, apparently unsuspecting, walked out to bark at Hank for destroying the roses. ("But I needed them for an experiment!" Hank protested)
Raven, who knew her brother inside and out, looked at him sharply.
"Charles. Are you-"
"Am I what?" Charles countered, pretending to be very interested in his waffles.
His pale skin was slightly flushed. Raven gave up. She did not want to go down that road.
"Never mind."
Charles finished his breakfast hastily and walked quickly to his room. Shutting the doors, he heaved a groan, and rubbed his temples.
He walked to the full length mirror, and took a long hard look at himself - all five foot seven inches of himself.
He took in his bright, incredibly blue eyes, his pale skin from too much studying, his tousled longish brown hair and his small, neat chin.
He took in his slight frame, more accustomed to thinking rather than fighting, and his delicate hands.
"Not quite the macho man huh," he spoke out loud. He felt a pleasant satisfaction that while he may not be made to brawl in bars, he could stop time. Literally.
Mind wandering, he wondered what Erik would think of his slim body. Or if Erik thought of him at all.
Sighing again he changed out of his blue shirt (he spilled syrup on it) and put on a white one.
He was buttoning up when his door burst open and Erik walked - more like stormed- in. Charles spun around so quickly his eyes watered.
"Erik I was just about to -"
And then he could not think (very unusual for him) because Erik's lips was upon his, his shoulders in a painful grip as Erik's hard, large hands grabbed him and pushed him against the cushioned walls, roughly.
Then his lips were being crushed, practically bruised from the hardest, most violent kiss he had ever had, and Erik's hands were unabashedly ripping off the buttons off his shirt, and roaming his chest freely.
With sheer will, Charles pulled away, his lips swollen, red, from the kiss as Erik's eyes, blazing with rage? Lust? Bore into his blue ones.
"What - what are you d-doing?" he stammered.
He couldn't breathe, much less talk, so his words came out as a whimper more than a protest.
"You've been projecting into my mind for weeks and you ask me what I'm doing?" exploded Erik, pushing Charles onto his bed with a growl.
"W-what?" Charles was now blushing furiously.
"Your thoughts, your fantasies, your images inside my head - you want this don't you?" snarled Erik, going in for the neck, biting so hard Charles yelped.
Erik continued his onslaught, ignoring Charles' protests and ripping his clothes off and dumping them to the floor.
"I've -" -rip- "had" -snick- "enough".
Erik now stared at Charles, who was open-mouthed in arousal, pleasure, fear, anger - all rolled into one heaving chest.
He was also completely naked, his arousal more evident than anything else.
"Erik, stop," pleaded Charles. "Stop."
Erik bared his teeth, like a dog. "Why? I've not been able to sleep for weeks because of your damn telepathy. Every night, I see in my head, your body beneath mine, your hands in my hair, my teeth on your flesh, me inside you -" he cut off, shaking his head as if to clear it.
"I'm going to give you what you want," he finally said in a low, threathening tone.
Charles gasped as Erik reached down, touching him in that one place that unravelled his mind control completely.
And when Erik used his mouth and tongue right there, down there, he screamed, not caring who heard and what they might think.
"Erik! No! Please!" His hands gripped Erik's short locks painfully.
"What do you mean, no?" Erik asked, anger evident in his voice even as his lips glistened, wet, slick.
"Not like this," whispered Charles. "Not like this."
Not caring, Erik pushed Charles onto his stomach, face-down on the pillows.
"No. I've wanted this - you- too long. I'm going to take you, make you mine, and then I can finally get you out of here-" he reached up and touched his forehead.
And he brought his lips down for another crushing kiss, this time his tongue slipped inside Charles open mouth.
His hands continued the work his mouth left off, and as his fingers found their way into Charles's openings, he pushed in without any warning.
Pulling away, Charles let out a cry of pain and tried to push the stronger man away.
"No!" he grunted, using his mind to try to influence Erik to stop, but in this state, his mind refused to co-operate.
His head filled with only Erik's thoughts, each filthy thought that ran through Erik's mind sending shudders through his body.
Erik, uncaring, aroused beyond measure, only wanted to bury himself deep into his best friend, to hear his name on those pink lips, to hear the moans that will escape those same lips.
And he did. He spat on his hands, coated himself, and rammed into Charles without so much as a word of comfort.
Pain like he'd never felt before coursed through Charles as Erik took him, possessed him, owned him.
Tears pooled at the corner of his eyelids as he muffled his moans into the pillows, but Erik, who wanted to hear Charles, who wanted to see Charles come undone, pulled him up by his hair, exposing white throat.
He thrust, hard, as Charles let out an agonised moan.
"No Erik, please, not so hard please-" he pleaded. "It hurts, hurts so much please stop."
Erik, finally, looking down, saw his friend broken, tearful, teeth gritted in pain, and unbidden, he felt a huge wave of remorse.
Letting out a gasp, he collapsed, still inside of Charles, and kissed his friend's eyes as if to take away the tears.
"Oh my god, Charles, I'm so sorry, so sorry," he whispered brokenly, leaving a trail of soft kisses down the trembling back.
"I just wanted you, so much, and your thoughts drove me crazy-" he started but Charles, heart-broken, stopped him.
"I'm okay," he gasped as he felt Erik still lodged within him. "I love you."
Erik, in his lust-induced haze, never expected to hear that but hear it he did.
"Charles-" he began, but Charles stopped him with a fierce kiss.
"Just - finish off," he said, teeth gritted.
Erik just stared, stared at those blue eyes, now bright with tears. He noted the trembling of his friend's lips, in fear of the pain he was about to endure.
"Oh god," Erik swore, but he needed release, so much.
So he began to move, but slower, as Charles gasped and groaned at the invasion.
"Charles, you're so hot, oh god- ohgodohgod."
Erik lost himself inside Charles, thrusting deeply, biting and leaving bloodied marks, sweat running down his back as he sought to reach his climax.
"Charles, I'm coming, I'm coming -"
Finally, with a shout, Erik came deep inside Charles, and to his surprise he felt Charles reaching his climax as well.
Breathing heavily, Erik tried not to collapse entirely onto the small, slight and shuddering body beneath him but he could not help himself.
"Charles- my love, I'm so sorry I'm so sorry," he begged.
Charles, who had not said a word, only let out a small moan of pain.
Awash with regret, Erik pulled himself out, gasping as he saw the ruby red of blood.
"Charles-"
"Go away Erik."
Erik reached out to his friend but this time, Charles's mind was his own again.
Erik felt a hard push, a strong physical blow, and sensing blood on his lips, he backed off.
"Forgive me," he pleaded, and without a word, dressed himself again, and walked out, leaving Charles sobbing quietly into his sheets.
Pain.
That was all there was in the ache of his back, the burn of the marks left by the rough sex - was it rape? Charles couldn't comprehend the word or the action. Certainly he wasn't against the idea of having Erik take him but not like that. Not like that.
He woke up feeling like his body had been invaded, violated. It was still bright out. He must have fallen asleep from crying.
Ridiculous, he berated himself. You're a man. You don't cry like a virgin who'd just had her first man.
But his heart, the pain in there, told him otherwise.
He groaned as he pulled himself out from bed, naked, stained with himself and Erik's come, and walked gingerly to the bathroom.
He needed to wash himself, and hissed as the pain of his wounds finally set in.
He let the water pound on his back, the bite marks left by Erik stinging.
Did I ask for that? Did I want Erik to have me? Yes, I suppose I did. I had been lusting after him since I met him that day, when I pulled him out of the water. When I reached into his mind and felt his pain and shared his agony.
When I saw his beauty. God, I love him so much I don't care if he ravished me.
He felt tears welling up again but he blinked them away angrily.
Oh shut it, he scolded himself. Get a grip.
He shut the showers off, feeling a little bit better, and towelled himself dry.
His face a mask of implacability, he put on a sweater - a turtleneck to hide the hickeys - and he checked himself in the mirror.
His eyes were red, his lips slightly swollen still, but nothing that will raise concern.
He went downstairs to bump into his entire group of young mutants, sitting in the hall and talking in low tones.
"Are you not supposed to be practising?" he called out, trying to keep his voice even.
They jumped, guiltily, and stared at him.
His mind heard their whispers.
What happened? Did the Prof and Erik have a fight? Why is Erik out in the forest tearing trees apart with a large chunk of metal? Why is Erik screaming as if possesed? What is going on? God the professor looks a bit beaten up- did they -
"I'm fine,"he said, a little too loudly. "Erik and I had a disagreement."
They stared at him.
He cleared his throat.
"I've worked it out but I am not feeling well," he added.
They looked slightly relieved.
"Sir, we were worried," offered the Banshee, whom they now called Red affectionately.
He looked at them, so young, and he felt so old despite his twenty-eight years.
"You neednt be. All you all need to do is get out there, master your powers and leave Erik's bad moods to me, okay?" he said, even managing a small smile.
They smiled back, guileless, and got up, peppering him with questions and filling the room, once again, with laughter and rowdiness.
He pushed his pain out of his mind and concentrated on them, spending the rest of the day to train them.
Erik was like a man possesed as he sent slivers of razor-sharp metal into trees, uprooting them or felling them and using the metal to rip chunks of wood away in a frenzy of destruction.
The noise and the sound of his own screaming made him feel even worse, but at least those sounds drove the sounds of Charles's pain from ringing in his ears.
He had hurt the one man with whom he could be himself, the man who saw the darkness in his heart and accepted it.
He had raped the one man who could have truly loved him, be it as a brother or a lover.
Charles was the only good in his life and he ruined it.
But god damn it all if only he had not been so driven by frenzied lust - god!
Erik had been tossing in his bed for weeks as Charles had, in deep sleep, accidently projected all of his fantasies, wet dreams, feelings of lust and desire into Erik every night.
He saw, as Charles dreamt, his body laying next to Charles, his lips kissing and worshipping that pale, slim body, his growling grunts as they made love.
And that morning, he had felt a sharp twinge of lust as he walked out into the sun. Felt Charles's blue eyes on his back, felt the desire from the other man.
He had barked at Hank only because he had felt it so strongly that it went straight to his loins.
When he looked up at Charles's room window later, which could be seen from the lawn, he had felt Charles. Felt his mind searching, unconsciously, for him.
And that snapped something in him. He knew he had to take Charles or be tormented by these desires for god knows how long.
And so he did. But Charles had not been prepared, not like he was.
Erik was used to women and men, he had no qualms about making love to both.
But Charles had not been ready. Not for him, not for the kind of love that men offered to other men.
Certainly not prepared for Erik to take him quite so violently, but Erik was not a man who was gentle. He was hard, and he was forceful like the metal he controlled.
With that last thought his control slipped, and one slice of metal cut through his thigh, leaving a deep gash that poured with blood almost instantly.
He roared in pain, falling to his knees, and everything around him stopped. The metal pieces fell to the ground silently, as the rest of the destroyed trees groaned, swayed and crashed.
He winced, but the pain was welcome. Struggling to stand, he tried to stem the bleeding but it was a very deep wound.
Cursing, he ripped his shirt with his teeth, and wrapped it around to stop himself from bleeding to death and walked, slowly, to the castle.
He stopped, stumbled as pain and blood loss threatened to turn his world gray.
He reached out, flatenned a piece of metal into a rough disc, and climbed onto it, using that to transport himself back to the castle.
When he reached the green, sprawling lawns he saw Charles guiding Alex in controlling the deadly lasers which the young boy could project from his body.
It wasnt a success, and Charles escaped barely, with a singed sweater.
He heard Charles laughing and it stabbed his heart.
Getting off the metal disc he limped to the sitting room, where Charles kept the medicines and first-aid kits.
(Injuries happen a lot when mutants practise, and the first aid kit was well-used and well-stocked)
He found iodine, and disinfectant, and used both, swearing with every colourful German expression he knew as the liquid stung.
Smearing iodine, he wrapped the wound with gauze and cotton and whatever that looked as if it could help, and snuck a deep gulp of Scotch straight from the bottle.
(Also kept in the same cupboard.)
"Drinking straight from the bottle now, are we?"
Erik could not look up, frozen as he recognised the voice to be Charles's.
A hand was put on his shoulder, and fingers gently traced the back of his neck.
Erik could not speak, he was too overcome.
"Erik, I - god! What happened?" cried Charles as he spied the bandages which were soaked red.
"Nothing," said Erik, but his vision was going grey at the edges.
"Shit that needs stitches, what the hell were you thinking - Erik?" The bottle of Scotch fell with a crash as Erik lost consciousness.
"Thats why you need to concentrate or you'll end up hurting yourself."
"Sir, I tend to hurt others instead."
"Well, collateral damage is serious. You, dear boy, almost deep-fried me to extinction."
Laughter pealed out in the room.
Erik opened his eyes, groaned. His legs hurt.
Charles's concerned face was in front of his, his sapphire eyes cloudy.
The room fell silent suddenly as Erik awoke.
"Erik, are you okay?" Raven asked, her now-normal face wrinkled in worry.
Erik nodded, curtly, and looked around.
They were in a crisp white hospital room, and he was on a white bed.
Charles, ever present, was looking at him with concern... And love?
The young mutants looked uncomfortable as electricity sizzled between Erik and Charles.
"Leave us for a while will you?" said Charles, his gaze unwavering.
The mutants left quietly, wondering uneasily if those two were about to fight again or... well. Other stuff.
As the young ones left, Erik finally tore his gaze away from those icy blue eyes. He couldn't face Charles.
But Charles had other ideas.
He sat on a chair beside Erik's bed, and gently, oh so gently, kissed the palm of Erik's hand.
Overcome, all Erik could do was choke back a sob.
"I'm so sorry Charles," he whispered.
Charles smiled, shook his head, and with heart-breaking purity, only said "I love you. I always will. Whether or not you hurt me."
Erik's only response was a kiss - but this time it had none of the ferocity of the first, but was careful, respectful, tentative.
Charles couldnt help it, he laughed a little against those lips.
"Now you go slowly with me? No, that hardly counts as a kiss."
He breathed hard, and said "Kiss me like you did before."
Erik needed no encouragement, and pulled Charles closer to him, roughly savouring the lingering taste of sweetness on Charles's lips.
Then he bit Charles lips, and Charles gasped, tasting the metallic tang of blood.
"Are you always so bitey?" joked Charles.
Erik answered only with a growl, and a bite on his right earlobe, before slipping a hand inside his shirt, and tugging open the first few buttons to expose a hard nipple.
"God!" swore Charles as Erik bit. Hard.
Erik continued to quite literally, eat his way down to Charles' hipbone, where only a sharp pain in his thigh and the appearance of a nurse stopped them both in their tracks.
Completely mortified, Charles hastened to button his black silk shirt, and ran his hands through his tousled hair. Erik was completely unruffled.
The nurse blushed, then mumbled something along the lines of "time to dress your wound Mr Lensherr".
Charles cleared his throat and walked out quickly, his cheeks flushed.
Erik watched him go, a bubble of laughter in his throat.
He smiled at the nurse, his teeth white and even, his eyes sparkling. She tittered and asked, shyly, "Was he your lover, Mr Lensherr? He's gorgeous," she added.
Erik nodded. "I hope so. I quite intend to make him mine," he grinned as the nurse flashed a smile.
"What's he like? When I saw him I felt as if he was looking right through me," she said, removing the dressing.
Erik shrugged. "He's very smart. Most intelligent man I ever met. Forgiving, too," he said. "And beautiful."
She slowly applied disinfectant, and checked the stitches carefully. "Well, he brought you in to the hospital, and every nurse on the floor was clamouring to get a look at him," she said with a laugh.
He gave a low chuckle. "I'd bet."
He was about to extoll Charles's beauty when he heard Raven scream, a crash and someone calling his name.
With a shriek, the nurse dropped the metal pan, as Erik bolted out of the bed, in his hospital robes, to see what had happened.
What greeted him was beyond horrifying - a demon-like mutant had Charles by the throat, a foot in the air, and Charles's legs, kicking beneath him.
A huge gash right above his right eye and a knife in his side explained why Charles did not use his powers to defend himself as Raven, Red, Alex and Hank lay unconscious on the floor.
The mutant grinned, his skin and eyes red like fire, at Erik.
Screaming out a battle cry Erik lifted every metal object in the hallway and flung it at the mutant, careful not to hit Charles.
But the demon vanished like smoke.
Erik roared. "Where are you?"
"Here." The demon appeared behind him, and lifted a metal club to hit Erik from behind but Erik, with reflexes of a cat, stopped the club.
"Metal. You would use metal to defeat me?"
Erik landed a hard punch on the mutant, who vanished again, to Erik's frustration.
A moan from two feet away alerted Erik to Charles.
He rushed to his side, but before he got there the mutant blocked his path, and kicked Erik hard, catching Erik in his chest, sending him a few feet backwards.
The mutant stood above Erik triumphant, as Erik's leg wound tore and gushed with blood.
He lifted a knife, to finish Erik off, but he never got to it.
The demon screamed, dropping the knife, cluthcing his head.
Behind him, Charles had his finger to his temple, concentrating hard on the demon.
The demon continued to scream with pain and suddenly, blood streamed from his nose, his ears and even his eyes as Charles crushed his brain from inside.
Erik watched, entranced, horrified, as the mutant gurgled, collapsed and died.
Erik looked at Charles, whose blue eyes had turned black - completely black. Blood trickled from his nose.
"Erik-" he gasped, and fainted.
Berating himself for his stupidity Erik got up, ignoring his legs, and checked on Charles. Pulse still strong, still alive. He checked the others. Only unconscious, he sighed with relief.
Doctors, nurses began to swarm into the hallway, checking for injuries.
Erik left his comrades in the good hands of the doctors, but he could not explain how the mutant's dead body was nothing but a wisp of smoke now.
"They're attacking us, and humans, directly now, the renegade mutants."
"I know. We have to stop them."
"But I won't kill them. Not again."
Charles shut his eyes with regret, and Erik took him in his arms.
"Shh. You did what you needed."
They had, since the hospital, not been able to be together since training had intensified.
Charles was pleased with the progress of the young mutants, but he worried. Everyday brought news of attacks by creatures with strange powers, and secrecy has become more paramount than ever before.
He worried that he and his small band of mutants may be overwhelmed, found out, and trapped like guinea pigs in a lab.
He hated to think of Erik trapped in a plastic cage.
A shudder went right through him and Erik felt it.
"What's wrong?"
Charles shook his head, and sighed, nuzzling against Erik's warm, broad chest.
"Nothing." He reached up to nip at Erik's lower lip.
Humming with appreciation Erik unbuttoned Charles's shirt, rveealing smooth creamy skin beneath, with a angry red scar at his side.
Erik kissed the scar, gently, but that was all that was gentle.
With a deep breath Erik yanked Charles off the bed, helping Charles to straddle him.
Confused, Charles looked at Erik with cloudy blue eyes.
"Erik, what - oh."
Erik had slipped himself inside smoothly, and gripped Charles hips hard.
Barely ready, Charles found himself rocking, moving, straddling Erik as Erik reached up, pulled him down towards his mouth, and kissed him hard.
Gasping with still unfamiliar pain, Charles winced, gritted his teeth as Erik thrust upward, harder, even as he pushed Charles down on him.
"Move, Charles, move faster," Erik groaned, longing for release.
Charles shook his head, "No I can't oh god, you're too hard - too big -" He screamed as Erik pushed him down violently.
"Erik! Gently! Please!" cried Charles.
Erik, mad with lust, pulled him down and bit his neck, using his hands to touch his lover's most sensitive regions.
Charles arched his back as Erik's talented hands stroked long and hard and fast; mouth open, gasping with pleasure as Erik took him again and again, and none too gently.
Erik thrust and thrust, before pulling out and laying Charles back on his stomach, taking him from behind, brutally hard and fast.
Charles felt a zing of pleasure as Erik found that sweet spot within him, and when he screamed out his name, Erik took the hint and thrust harder, hitting that spot just there each time.
When they both came together, all Charles could do was collapse on Erik, with Erik still inside him.
He felt Erik's warmth deep inside, and the heaving breaths and swear words dripping from his mouth told him how much Erik enjoyed it, needed it, wanted it.
"You are amazing," breathed Erik.
Charles sighed, kissing his lover gently.
"Does it still hurt?" Erik asked, concerned.
"Yes. But it feels better each time," he said.
"Good. Then I can do this -"
He slipped his hands back down and slipped his fingers into Charles's entrance.
Immediately, his lover bucked, arched back and gasped with surprise and pleasure.
"Erik please I can't keep - oh fuck!" he swore as Erik slipped three fingers inside.
"Can't what, my friend? Can't take any more of me inside you?" his breath was hot against his ears, as Erik's talented tongue licked the side of his face, then his cheeks and then into his mouth.
Charles could not speak, he could not breathe as Erik did wicked things to him, getting him so aroused all he could do was mewl and whine.
"Do you want it? Use your mind to tell me what you want," ordered Erik.
But Charles could not, his powers would not work when he was being teased, aroused, sexually like this.
"I can't, I can't," he moaned, hips lifting to ease the foreign invasion of Eric's fingers.
"Then say it to me. Say it to me now."
"Erik, I love you, love you in-inside me. Please."
With a wicked laugh Erik withdrew, shaking his head.
"No Charles. You have to show me how much you want it."
Charles groaned, his erection straining, his breath coming in gasps.
"H-how?"
"Touch yourself."
Charles looked at Erik, shocked, pupils completely blown. His blue eyes now looked almost black-blue.
"No, please Erik just come inside me," he pleaded but Erik only reached out, grabbed his hand, and put his hand where he so wanted to be touched.
"Show me."
Shuddering, Charles did just as he was told. Stroking himself, he whimpered against the sheets, mortified at Erik seeing him like this but now so filled with need he could not care less.
"Make yourself ready for me Charles."
Charles needed no further instructions. Sucking his fingers to make them wet he slipped them inside himself, screaming out Erik's name over and over.
At last, unable to take anymore, he came, hard, all over his 800 thread-count cotton sheets.
Erik, satisfied, now coated himself with lubricant, and poised just where Charles fingers vacated.
"Now, I'll give you what you need."
Thrusting deeply, Erik buried himself all the way in, ignoring the scream of pain that came from Charles lips.
He moved, long and hard, until Charles was a writhing, moaning mess, his hair in all directions, his face flushed, his mouth open.
Charles had never felt pain or pleasure quite like this. All he could feel, smell, hear, was Erik. The familiar cologne, the slight musk of his sex, the brandy they had been drinking earlier over chess.
When he felt Erik release himself, he felt bliss like he'd never felt before.
He even reached out to his lover, grabbing his throbbing manhood, and for the first time, tentatively licked the remnants of his pleasure.
Erik growled, deep in his throat as Charles did that.
"Oh my friend, please do that again-"
"This?" Charles took Erik inside his mouth completely.
Erik started, gasped, clutched at his hair painfully as Charles did things he never thought the usually reserved man would.
But then again, this was not 'usual'.
As they both lay utterly spent next to one another, all they could feel was their heartbeats, fast at first but slowing as they both fell asleep.
Charles awoke to a feeling of pure, blind panic.
Something was not right.
Something in the house was different.
He looked next to him, saw Erik sleeping soundly. He heard nothing, but still his neck prickled.
Something was watching him. Watching him and Erik sleep next to each other. Feelings of longing and desire, and of loneliness.
Charles sat up slowly, looking around in the room, which had the first lights of morning slowly creeping in from between the gaps in the curtains.
He peeled Erik's arms away, slowly, and got out of bed, naked, and padded softly to the door. Touching it with his finger tips, he concentrated on the minds in the house - his young mutants, Erik, more Erik, and then - there.
An intruder but not immediately threatening, though Charles could not be sure. Not now. Not when the world of mutants threatened to tear itself apart.
He probed further, found another mutant, but of what powers he could not tell. Male, that much was clear.
Charles, taking a big risk, spoke to the mutant.
I know you're here.
Shock ran through the mutants mind.
Are you here to hurt us? To hurt me?
How are you doing this? The mutant demanded.
I am Charles Xavier. I run this school. You are welcome here if you show me who you are.
Why should I?
Because I can help you. I an help you release whatever it is you hide beneath your clothes.
Nobody can help me. I'm a monster.
Then so are all of us. Show me where you are.
A hesitation. Charles pressed on.
Where are you hiding?
The mutant remained silent. Charles felt the mutant's defenses lower.
Show me who you are.
A rustle from behind the heavy curtains startled Charles as the form of a man, with hair so light it was almost white, eyes bluer than the sky, emerged from the curtains.
He had on a heavy coat, and a scowl.
Charles felt quite surprised he could not pinpoint the mutant even when he was standing two feet away.
"Hello," he said. The mutant scowled harder yet in the dim light Charles could make out high cheekbones, full lips, and a cascade of beautiful, slightly curled hair.
"I've made myself visible, and from the looks of it, so have you."
Charles realised with a start he was indeed, naked as the day he was born.
Blushing, he grabbed Erik's shirt, which was too long - long enough to cover his thighs.
"What do you call yourself?" asked Charles.
The mutant grimaced.
"You tell me."
Shurgging off the coat, the mutant was dressed only in a pair of tattered jeans.
Enormous white wings unfolded, gently, magnificently, from the mutant's back.
Charles gasped, and Erik woke up with a grunt.
"Charles- who are you?" Erik shot out of bed, lifted a knife from the stand, and sent it straight at the mutant.
With a flurry of white, the mutant deflected the knife easily, his wings apparently solid enough to turn metal.
"Stop!" cried Charles. "Erik, stop."
Erik reached out for him and stood in front of him protectively.
"Who are you?" he demanded harshly as Charles protested.
"Erik, I am not a helpless maiden now STOP!" he commanded, and suddenly Erik relaxed, dropped the weapons he had lifted in attack, and looked at him.
"No fair you promised-" he sunk to the floor in a heap, unable to move.
Charles grunted. The other strange mutant had not moved.
"Now where were we? Oh yes. Your name."
The mutant hesitated, having seen this seemingly fragile and slight man overpower a much larger, aggressive attacker with just his mind.
"I am called Angel," he said. "But I am no angel."
Charles smiled, gently. "Let me find out for myself, will you? Now come. Put on your coat. I'll introduce you to the rest."
Angel hesitated.
"Dont' worry," said Charles, and touched Angel on the arm.
Charles, in a split second, broke through Angel's mind defenses and reeled with what he saw.
Death, blood, a red slash as an older man, perhaps his father, tried to cut his wings off his back, ashamed of his son's apparent deformity -
Kisses, with another man, who stopped when he felt feathers and wings and cried out that he was a monster -
Rain, a blizzard, a storm that raged around him as he flew the night skies, wanting to be caught in the tornado, to end his pain -
Watching Charles and Erik, lying in bed, torn with a longing for love and an end to loneliness.
Charles felt a prickle of tears behind his eyelids and blinked hard.
Angel looked at him curiously.
"What did you do to me?"
Charles looked up, all innocence, and silently showed him into the hallway.
"Wait -" Charles walked over to Erik, kissed him lightly on the lips and Erik recovered with a grunt.
"You promised to never do that," he growled.
"Well I had to. Someone had to stop this foolishness," Charles snapped.
Erik did not have the decency to look abashed.
"I am going to show Angel around. You get dressed," Charles ordered.
Erik, suddenly realising that Professor X, leader of the X Men, was in the room, in control, could only grunt.
"I liked you better underneath me and crying out my name," he muttered as Charles pretended not to hear.
"I still own you!" Erik called out as Charles left the room, a small smile on his face.