Birthday!fic for Jamesorangecat.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Pool Party
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Charles creeps along the side of the wall slowly, weapon clutched tightly with both hands, trying not to make a single sound as he keeps his spine pressed tightly back against the brick. He's practically holding his breath, straining to hear something, anything, because he knows his enemy is close.
He could use his telepathy. It would be a simple thing to lower his barriers and cast his mind out, and pinpoint how exactly close his enemy is, but then they would know, and then they would find him and—
The bushes rustle.
Charles freezes, bringing his weapon up and pointing it towards the approximate location he thinks he heard the sound come from. It could have been the breeze, though, just the breeze, surely he hasn't been found yet—
He hears the distinct crackle of shoes on leaves and he doesn't even hesitate, turning and ducking around the other side of the wall and launching himself into the foliage, no longer caring for secrecy as he crashes through the bushes making all the noise in the world because all that matters now is that he makes it to safety. His breath is coming out in stuttering gasps because he thinks he can hear sounds of pursuit behind him, closing in fast, and he's not going to make it—
Something cold and wet hits him square in the back, and Charles gives a startled yell, promptly tripping and falling flat on his face in the leaves, landing awkwardly on top of his weapon and skidding forward a few inches.
"Gotcha," says a smug voice, and then Charles is being doused again mercilessly, and there's nowhere for him to hide, and all he can do is roll over onto his back, holding up his hands futilely in an attempt to protect himself from—
Erik, who is grinning down at him while he sprays Charles ceaselessly with his water gun.
Water bazooka is actually more accurate because Jesus Christ, that thing is a monster.
"Erik!" he says, still trying to block the water spray futilely and really, Erik, the crotch? "You win, you win, cut it out—"
"What's that?" Erik asks loudly, and the bastard only stops for a moment to re-pump his bazooka before he's spraying Charles again, this time in the face, making him sputter. "I what? I win? I picked an ostentatious, that's-too-big-Erik-you'll-never-win-with-that-one, completely unnecessary gun and I still won?"
"Yes!" Charles all but shouts, anything to stop getting sprayed at this point. "You win, I was wrong, now stop it—"
Erik finally lowers his water gun, and it's literally tall enough for him to lean forward on it comfortably. "No need to be a poor sport about it, Charles. I gave you a pretty good head start."
Charles lets his hands drop, still panting slightly. He's soaked now, not to mention covered in dirt from his fall. His smaller, more practical water gun is half-buried in the leaves and he is forced to accept a complete and utter defeat. "I'm not being a poor sport," he snaps, "it's not my fault that your legs are longer than mine, enabling you to run faster and therefore—"
Erik is chuckling, reaching down to haul Charles up to his feet. "You're just mad because you were wrong. My Shark Blaster 3000 is superior."
Charles wrinkles his nose in distaste as he glances back down at the crudely-painted teeth on the sides of Erik's water gun as he attempts to brush himself off a little. This of course is impossible on the account that his shirt is so wet that it sticks to his skin along with everything else. "The only reason you bought that one is because it was called Shark Blaster."
"I happen to think sharks are majestic creatures." Erik says, and then gives Charles an appreciative once-over when the telepath bends down to pick up his own water gun. "That's a good look for you, you know. Wet, bending over—"
Charles turns around and sprays him in the face with his water gun, grinning triumphantly before taking off again, ducking through the trees laughing at the sounds of Erik's cursing. Two can play at that game, he thinks savagely, sprinting through the undergrowth and ignoring the branches slapping at him, this was all Erik's fault to begin with, suggesting something as ridiculous as a water war for god's sake—
He nearly runs into a tree, but he takes it in stride because he has an idea now and it is perfect.
Thank god for smaller water guns, he thinks smugly as he begins to climb, hoisting himself up into the branches, Erik wouldn't be able to do this with his stupid Shark Blaster now would he?
Charles gets into position, hugging onto the trunk of the tree with one arm while he keeps his water gun level with the other, crouched on a branch that gives him a clear view of the ground below. He's not very high up, but it's enough to where Erik won't spot him right away which is all he needs.
Soon enough Erik comes into view, moving confidently through the brush and carrying his ridiculous Blaster, making no effort to conceal himself or keep his footsteps quiet, which is rather something for someone who probably knows how to walk across bubble wrap without making a single noise. Charles is suddenly fervently glad that they'd agreed on no usage of powers for this, because otherwise the buckle in his belt would be a dead giveaway right now and he's sort of looking forward to this.
Erik's been tracking him, Charles realizes when the metalbender comes to a stop in front of his tree, following his path of destruction through the forest like a hunter. Jesus Christ.
But oh well. This actually serves Charles' purpose just fine.
Erik puts two-and-two together and looks up, so Charles sprays him directly in the face again.
"Charles!" Erik garbles out, ducking down and taking a step back but Charles is relentless, spraying him just as mercilessly as Erik had him. Erik tries to hoist up his Blaster to fire back blindly but Charles hops down from his branch, landing on his feet, and continues to drench Erik with water.
And then he runs out.
Of water.
Goddamn it.
Charles pulls at the trigger a couple more times, and all he gets for his efforts is a weak stream of water that barely makes it an inch or two forward. Uh oh.
Erik lifts an arm to wipe his face, grinning again. "What's wrong, Charles? I've still got plenty." He hoists his Blaster up and fires.
Charles turns and runs, shrieking a little when the cold water hits his back. He ducks back through the trees, and Erik is hot in pursuit so Charles starts weaving through the trunks to avoid running in a straight line to make himself less of a target and why, why, why did he agree to this. He needs to get back to the house, because the quickest way to refill this stupid water gun is to just dunk it in the pool and even then Erik will still be able to spray him the entire time—
He bursts out of the forest, flat-out sprinting across the yard, and Erik's still spraying him but maybe if he can get through the screen door to the pool deck fast enough he can lock it and buy himself some time to refill—
Charles reaches the screen door and practically yanks it open, but Erik's on him, barreling into him and forcing both of them onto the pool deck and Charles gives up and tosses his water gun aside in favor of grabbing onto Erik's, trying to yank it out of his grip even as Erik sprays him with more water, laughing like a maniac and Charles thinks he should be slightly worried because Jesus Christ, Erik may or may not be into this game a little too much or something—
Erik suddenly lunges forward, taking Charles completely by surprise and outright tackling him, and Charles shrieks again as he, Erik, and the Blaster go toppling into the pool with one huge splash.
Fortunately they've landed in the deep end so nothing hurts, and Charles kicks his way to the surface, coughing and laughing all at once as Erik surfaces beside him, the Shark Blaster bobbing up as well and floating away.
"That was uncalled for." Charles says even as he grins, treading water because he's not quite tall enough to reach the bottom. "And that doesn't mean you won."
Erik is standing comfortably, and he smirks. "I definitely won. You ran out of water in that puny little gun of yours. So I'll be collecting my prize now."
Charles blinks. They didn't agree on a prize. "What prize?"
"This one." Erik grabs him by the front of his shirt and tugs him forward through the water until they're plastered right up against one another and then kisses him.
Oh. Charles likes this new direction of events, tilting his head back and parting his lips slightly to allow Erik better access which the metalbender takes full advantage of, and Charles can't help the small moan that escapes him when Erik slides their tongues together, leaving the telepath even more breathless.
Erik makes a contented sound when Charles wraps his legs around the metalbender's waist, the water making it easier to lift himself up, wrapping his arms around Erik's shoulders at the same time to pull himself even closer, deepening their kiss. Erik slides his hands down to grab Charles' ass, chuckling when Charles gives a small start of surprise.
The action causes him to unintentionally—well okay, maybe it's slightly intentional—grind up against Erik, and Erik groans into Charles' mouth, maneuvering them both so he has Charles pinned between his body and the side of the pool, trapping him comfortably in place. He kisses Charles again, slow and meticulous, rutting deliberately against Charles even with all of their wet clothes in place until the telepath is gasping, aroused and half-hard, and maybe they should move this inside before—
His belt starts to unbuckle itself.
"Erik."
"What?" Erik asks with another chuckle, pulling back slightly to regard Charles with a searing gaze. "I intend to collect my entire prize, Charles."
"We're outside," Charles hisses as his belt somehow starts dragging his pants down a little, "in broad daylight—"
"—in our own backyard," Erik finishes matter-of-factly, "so I don't want to hear it." Besides, he thinks loudly as he slips one hand down into Charles' pants, don't even try to tell me you don't like this.
"I—a-ah!" Charles practically squeezes Erik with his legs, lifting himself up slightly using Erik's body as leverage out of pure instinctual reaction when the metalbender begins to tease his entrance with one finger, tilting his head even further back as he jerks helplessly in Erik's grip.
That's better, Erik thinks smugly, dipping his head to press an open-mouthed kiss against Charles' throat as he pushes his finger further inside the telepath, moving it back and forth slowly before adding another.
Charles moans, fully hard now, his hips snapping forward almost on their own accord as Erik stretches him, desperately seeking friction but the pool water is making it a little hard for him to—
"Move a little, liebling," Erik murmurs against his throat, lifting him slightly so he can slide Charles' pants down further, and then lowers Charles down onto his cock.
Charles' breath stutters as Erik presses into him, the slow burn eased by the cool water as Erik fills him up, and they both moan together, Charles pressing forward to kiss Erik again as the metalbender slides home, buried deep.
You good? Erik whispers to him silently, and Charles can feel him practically quivering with the effort of holding himself still, allowing Charles to adjust.
Move, Charles thinks back, move, move, move—
Even his thoughts break off when Erik gives an initial thrust, slowly building up into a steady rhythm. Charles moves in tandem with Erik, pushing himself down onto the metalbender's cock and gasping into Erik's mouth as they kiss again, their movements creating small waves in the pool that lap against the sides. Erik whispers things directly into Charles' mind, filthy and sweet and loving and quickly losing coherency as they speed up, sliding against one another faster and faster as they reach the edge.
Charles nearly cries out when Erik brushes his prostrate, the sensation sending a billion shockwaves of pleasure up his spine and he nearly sees stars when Erik does it again, gripping him by the hips and thrusting into him on just this side of rough, swallowing his cry with another kiss to muffle the sound.
Charles moans into Erik's mouth when he comes, shooting off into the water between them, the white come visible against the clear water. Erik thrusts up into him a few more times, riding out Charles' orgasm before he comes too, slamming up into Charles and making the telepath shiver slightly at the sensation of Erik coming deep inside him.
Charles slumps weakly in Erik's grip, panting and sated, and filled with a happy sort of lethargy as Erik leans forward against him, pressing him back against the side of the pool as they both catch their breath. The water in the pool slowly calms, evening out until there's not even a ripple on the surface.
Now that's what I call a victory lap. Erik thinks, lazily amused.
"Crude." Charles accuses, and he only fights the grin threatening to spread across his face for a moment before he allows it to win.
"We should have water gun wars more often." Erik says casually. His hair is plastered down against his head and Charles imagines that his looks no better, but Erik's still the most devilishly handsome thing Charles has ever laid eyes on and it's a little unfair. Erik grins. You might want a bigger gun for next time, though.
Mine was fine. Charles rolls his eyes. You're just mad that I—oh no.
"What is it?" Erik asks aloud, eyebrows raised.
"Um," Charles says a little frantically, "you might want to—"
"Poooooooool paaaaartyyyyyy!" someone shrieks at a decibel not meant for human ears. It is clearly the voice of their next-door neighbor, which is slightly mortifying on several different levels.
"Wilson." Erik growls warningly.
"Too late." Charles says miserably.
"I AM DEADPOOOOOOOOOOOL!" Wade Wilson crashes through the hedge, banging through the screen door and then cannonballs into the pool with one almighty splash.
Oh god why.