A/N: Inspired by "Fight Dirty and Winner Takes All" by Gerec over on AO3. Beta'd by Twilight684. Thanks again love!
"You know, I don't typically come home with strangers I meet at bars," said one very drunk Charles Xavier.
"Of course," Erik replied kindly, although he highly doubted that. He saw the way the brunet had been practically sitting in that blond's lap. Good thing "Captain Too-Nice" wasn't about to take advantage of a drunken stranger and did the right thing by asking the bartender to "call this man a cab; he's had enough to drink."
Erik however, is not too nice, and did not do the right thing.
This is how he found himself with an armful of drunken Charles as they kissed against his front door.
Captain-Too-Nice missed his chance.
"Really," Charles said as he broke away from the kiss, breath slightly ragged and pupils growing with interest. "I really don't just come home with guys I just met."
"Charles," Erik growled, nipping at the smaller man's neck. He looked up into his eyes. "It's fine, really. I'm not judging you."
Charles bit his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth.
"You don't remember my name, do you?" Erik deadpanned.
The brunet winced. "Derek?"
"Erik."
"Erik! Yes, that's right. Erik."
Erik considered running a tired hand down his face and calling it a night, but something about this Charles Xavier guy was just sticking with him and wouldn't leave.
Now you see, the original plan of action for the night after steal-er…rescuing, Charles from Captain Do-The-Right-Thing, was to take Charles home, offer him some coffee (to sober him up just a bit) and then fuck the living daylights out of him… And then possibly leave him with a "Get Out" note in the morning after Erik had left for work.
What? It has already been said that Erik is not a nice guy and does not do the right thing. Don't act like this is news.
However, sometime during the cab ride home Charles got to talking, and Erik found himself intrigued. Actually, scratch intrigued, it was more like smitten.
Erik Lehnsherr: smitten. The fuck happened there, one might be wondering?
Answer: he found everything that came out of Charles' mouth to be interesting and fascinating (even when drunk out of his mind Charles could still hold a proper conversation, and that alone turned Erik on more than anything).
"So," Erik said as he pulled Charles away from the door and led him over to the couch, "genetics professor, huh? That sounds interesting."
"Oh very!" Charles perked up instantly. "Mutation, right, took us from single celled organisms to being the-"
Suddenly, the front door opened and in strolled— if you can call what Logan Howlett does "strolling"— Erik's bastard of a best friend and roommate.
Erik fucking hated Logan.
"Oh, I didn't know you had company." Logan eyed the two men on the couch, and if his eyes stayed on Charles just a bit too long. Yes, Erik fucking noticed.
"Logan," Erik said with his best I'm-going-to-kill-you smile, "I thought you said you'd be out all night?" he hinted.
A hand was waved. "Eh, something came up."
Translation: the cops showed up.
He kicked the door closed with his foot and made his way closer to the couch, a smile appearing over his face. "And who is this adorable creature?"
Remember that hand that Erik wanted to drag down his face? Yeah, he finally got around to that. "His name is Charles, and he is not a creature."
Charles turned to face Erik now, after smiling a little too brightly at the man Erik was plotting to kill with duct tape, a lamp cord, cotton balls, and…never mind. "Actually, we are creatures- all of us. You see-"
Logan let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, oh Erik, I like him." He glanced back to the intriguing brunet. "Please, tell me, what do you do for a living, Charles?"
A smile that could power the sun for fifty lifetimes shone across Charles' face. "I teach genetics at the university."
Erik thumped his head back on the couch. He really, really hated Logan.
"A professor, huh? What a coincidence. So am I."
Erik's head whipped back up and he shot daggers at his "friend". "What?" he said at the same time that Charles said, "Really?" And now his smile outshone the sun. He turned completely to face the other man now. "That is a coincidence."
"Yep." Logan popped the top of his beer that seemed to materialize from out of nowhere; either that or the man just always keeps one on his person, and took a sip.
"Please, tell us, Logan," Erik said with growing irritation, "what exactly is it that you are a "professor" of?" Because this was all news to Erik.
The burly man took another drink before answering. "Art."
"Logan, is it? Please, sit down." Charles scooted over on the couch and made room for the other man.
Whelp, there went any chance of Erik getting laid. Although, if he were to be totally honest with himself, he really did want to get to know Charles a little bit better. Again, there was just something about that man that drew Erik to him… And now he was touching Logan's bicep.
Touching Logan's bicep?
Erik was up from the couch and dragging his bastard of a roommate with him into the hallway, leaving a confused, yet still sexy, Charles by himself.
"What are you doing? What are you doing?" Erik slammed Logan up against the wall, and it was a wonder the wall didn't break. He held the man by his shirt, fists curled securely in the material and tightening.
Logan made a face like he didn't get what the big deal was; Erik nearly punched him. "What? I'm just making friendly. I didn't see any marks on his neck. He's not yours, yet."
Erik only tightened his grip more. "That's because I haven't had the chance," he sneered at the other man. Goddamn Logan. Why did he ever agree to live with him? He sighed, releasing the man. "Logan, please, I really like him. Just…not this one, okay?"
And really, what was Logan doing trying to stake his claim on Charles? The man was more into women anyway. Men were just…a fun thing his roommate did on the side when he was bored.
Logan shrugged, smile on face. "But I'm bored."
Erik slammed him up against the wall again. "I said not this one!"
Still smiling, Logan just looked around Erik and into the living room. "But he's so cute." He looked back to Erik. "And that accent- it's just too sexy to pass up." His smile widened. "I wonder how it would sound when he moaned my name."
That was it. Erik drew his fist back, every intention of it smashing into his friend's face, but Logan quickly moved out of the way.
"Goddamn it," Erik cursed out, pulling his now bruised hand from the wall. He shot Logan a death glare. "You son-of-a-bitch."
"Is everything okay?" Charles called out, peering over the couch.
"You need to work on that temper of yours," Logan said to Erik before answering Charles. "Yep, everything's just peachy. We're coming back now."
Erik grabbed Logan by the shirt, with his non-bruised hand, and dragged him closer. "No, there is no "we". I'm going back out there, and you're going to go jump off a bridge. Charles is mine."
Logan snorted, "We'll let him be the judge of that."
Erik drew his fist back again.
"Whoa, whoa, easy there, bub." Logan grabbed Erik's fist before his friend could damage it further. "Is that your answer to everything? Violence?"
"It's gotten the job done all these years," Erik gritted out.
Logan gave him a disbelieving look. "Speaking of that, how did you get Charles to come home with you? You're scary as shit man, and he looks like the perfect image of innocence."
Apparently Logan didn't see Charles at the bar earlier licking that blond guy's neck.
Erik snorted, "You're one to talk." He yanked his hand free from Logan's. "You have that whole I might kill you with a hatchet then burry you deep in the woods vibe going on."
"Yeah, but people find that sexy. You…you're just a big scary shark."
"Well, I'd rather be a shark than a cuddle fish!"
Logan furrowed his brows. "How the fuck did we get on this subject?"
Erik dragged another hand down his face, head shaking. "Fuck if I know." He looked up. "Is Charles even still here?"
Both men turned their gaze on the living room, where one still drunken Charles Xavier was indeed still waiting. He was reading—or at least trying to read—a magazine.
"Really though, how did you convince him to come home with you?"
Erik winced. "I may have impersonated a taxi driver." He paused. "And then actually stole a taxi to drive Charles home."
"That explains the cops when I showed up at our usual spot," Logan mused. He shook his head, attention back on Erik now. "So you really do like him, then?"
Hell, if Grand Theft Auto doesn't say "like", Erik doesn't know what does. "I do, so I'd really appreciate it if you fucked off for the night."
Logan glanced back out into the living room, just in time to see Charles lick his finger before turning a page. He found Erik's face again. "Sorry, bub, but this one's just too cute to pass up."
Frustrated and not wanting to play this game tonight, because really how does the great Erik Lehnsherr tell his asshole of a best friend that he may have…feelings for Charles and not get laughed off the face of the planet? Erik sighed. "Why are you even bothering? You're more into chicks anyway. What happened to Anna Marie?"
Now Logan sighed. "She may have…dumped me."
Erik's eyebrow rose. "Go on." Because of course there was going to be a classic "Logan story" behind this.
"I-" Logan looked off to the side, hand going to the back of his neck. "I may have made a comment about her hair." He paused. "…A bad comment."
Erik just stared at his friend, dryly.
"Look, she got these highlights, or whatever the hell girls do to their hair, and they turned out white- not blonde, but white!"
Erik just shook his head. "You made an age comment, didn't you?"
"I don't think I deserved to be slapped."
"You deserved a kick in the nuts."
"Look, we're getting off subject again. Why don't we just go back out there and see who Charles picks?" Logan gave a no-good smirk. "Hell, he may even choose both."
Erik had to roll his eyes at that one. Right, like he'd ever have a threesome with Logan. Sleeping with the man once was bad enough. And to be fair, they were both shit-faced out of their minds that night and both of them had gotten shot down earlier at the bar; Logan by the pretty redhead, whose boyfriend—sunglasses guy, as Erik liked to refer to him as—came over and started shit with Logan until they were both thrown out, and Erik flat out being told "no" by the good looking, and probably much older, brunet who just looked like he had more money than time to spend.
It had been a hit to both their egos that night, which was how they ended up in bed together. Although, if Erik remembered correctly, it having been nearly ten years ago, he didn't recall any actual fucking happening. Both men were too busy arguing and fighting over who got to top as they were ripping each other's clothes off and kissing. It was scary too, that scene; there's a reason why sharks and wolverines don't mate.
Erik's pretty sure that night just ended with them exchanging blowjobs and then passing out, calling each other faggots in the morning and then agreeing to never do that again.
"He's not going to choose both because you are going to leave." Erik gave his friend a pointed yet terrifying look. "I'm serious, Howlett, this one's mine."
Smirking, Logan just replied, "We'll see about that," and then proceeded to take off his shirt, leaving him in just his white, sleeveless undershirt.
Erik refuses to call them wife-beaters; that name's just wrong for a shirt.
"Wha-what are you doing?" Erik asked in horror as he eyed Logan and his unfairly muscular arms, and goddamn it how much time does that man spend at the gym?
Logan just threw his shirt Erik's way. "It's just…so hot in here," he said dramatically, fanning himself with one hand. "Too bad the landlord still hasn't gotten around to fixing our AC unit." He gave one last smirk before strolling back into the living room.
"There's nothing wrong with our AC unit… And it's winter!" Erik growled before flinging Logan's shirt aside. That dirty rotten, son-of-a-
"Oh. Oh my," came Charles' voice. Erik glanced in the living room to witness Logan sit back down next to Charles, lifting his beer to show off just how huge his muscles really were. The bastard.
Erik seethed. He looked down at his own shirt, just a simple black polo that fit him perfectly, and started to reach for the hem.
He sighed. Was he really going to take off his shirt and go in there? Hell no- that wasn't Erik. He shook his head. Okay, so Logan had muscles on him, he'll give the man that. But there was one advantage that Erik knew he had over the burly man, something that he did remember from their tumble in bed together.
A smirk appeared over his face as he started to head back to the living room, because everyone knows that sharks have bigger cocks than wolverines.
…
"…about five hundred reps, then one thousand sit-ups-"
"Oh my god," Erik groaned as he rolled his eyes.
Both men looked back at him. "What?" Logan asked, giving his friend a "fuck-off" look. And, really, shouldn't it be Erik giving the "fuck-off" looks around there?
"You are so exaggerating." Erik sat back down on the couch on the otherside of Charles and pulled the brunet—who was in the middle of feeling Logan's bicep—away.
Right, like Erik was going to allow that shit to happen.
Logan gave Erik a nasty look. "Hey, I'll have you know, bub, I just so happened to spend more time at the gym than you do at work."
"That's because you don't work!"
"Perhaps he could get a job at the gym," Charles interjected, eyes still glued on Logan's God-like body.
Goddamn it Erik really wanted to kill him right now. Put on a fucking shirt, Howlett!
"He could be a personal trainer or something." He glanced over to Erik, who was still trying to pull Charles further away.
"Hey, that's not a bad idea." Logan stroked his chin in thought, only serving to make his bicep bulge even more. He has to be on steroids, there's no other way! He glanced back to Charles, shit-eating grin on his face. "I'd love to get you into the gym, show you a couple of moves," he said with a wink.
That was it (again). Erik had had enough; he was up and dragging Charles off the couch with him this time.
"Hey, where you going? We were just having a friendly conversation." Logan watched as Erik herded Charles towards his room.
"We'll talk again later, Logan," Charles hollered out as Erik practically manhandled him down the hallway. "I'd love to hit the gym with you sometime."
"Not bloody likely," muttered Erik.
Charles turned to face him now. "Pardon?"
"Nothing, just…stop talking to that bastard." Erik led Charles into his bedroom, closing the door with his foot.
Charles snorted. "Well, I just so happened to have found him quite charming and not a bastard." He paused and crossed his arms over his chest. "And really, do you normally refer to all your friends as "bastards"?"
Only Logan.
Erik let out a sigh. "No, it's just…" He shook his head. "Logan's only doing this because he knows I really like you," he muttered, only to be met with silence.
Well, that's never a good sign.
"Oh," was Charles' response.
Erik winced. Maybe…maybe he should try taking off his shirt now?
Charles cocked his head to the side, studying the man. "But your hardly know me. We only just met a few hours ago."
Erik took a step closer, relieved when Charles didn't back up. That's right- Erik's not some psycho serial killer whose about to gag and tie you to his bed for days. It's okay. Stay calm. "I know, Charles, it's just…" he gave another sigh. Erik was really, really, bad at this. He ran a hand down his face, trying to find the right words. They were in there somewhere, he knew it. He just didn't have enough booze in his system to force them out.
No. No, no. Liquid courage was not the answer here. Speak from your heart, Lehnsherr.
"You're just…so fucking sexy. I would love nothing more than to keep you in my bed for days."
Charles made a horrified face.
Your heart you dipshit! Not your cock! What the fuck is wrong with you?
Erik shook his head. "Sorry, that's not what I meant to say- I swear. That was the booze talking." He covered his face with both hands. Way to fuck it up beyond repair. Might as well just open the door and escort Charles back into Logan's huge arms. It's okay though; Erik will just use his tears as lube while he masturbates to the sound of Logan fucking the only man Erik has ever truly wanted.
Soft hands grabbing his wrists broke Erik from his self-wallowing pity. He slowly removed his hands from his face and was met with piercing blue eyes.
"Tell me what you like about me," Charles whispered.
A heavy sigh left Erik. Jesus, where does he even begin? Maybe start with the fact that everything that comes out of Charles' mouth is interesting, whether it was him getting all excited over a genetic code ("A SNP, or single nucleotide polymorphism, is a mutation in a single base pair. Depending on what section of DNA is affected these mutations can have no effect at all, which is usually the case for SNP's defining Y-DNA, a change in physical appearance, for example: eye color….") or even just the weather ("In ten minutes, a hurricane releases more energy than all the world's nuclear weapons combined!"). Charles just always has something fascinating to say, and it's probably how excited he gets when he talks had Erik so intrigued with the man. He has passion, enthusiasm, desire; Erik likes all those traits when it comes to finding a partner.
And not only does Charles having a brain and knowing how to use it turn him on, it's also what's in his heart. Erik can tell that Charles is a kind, caring individual. Hell, he'd even overlook the fact that Charles probably has fifty or so stray cats hanging around his house—they all probably have names too—as long as it means he gets to keep Charles for himself.
And don't even get Erik started on the man's looks. Not that his looks were the only reason why Erik wanted to bring him home that night, but Jesus Christ, even a blind man could see that Charles holds more beauty than any portrait or landscape could ever… Why was Charles looking at him like that?
"…just said all that out loud, didn't I?"
A huge grin broke out over Charles' face.
And then he flung himself at Erik and kissed him, wrapping his arms around the taller man's neck as Erik's snaked around his waist, their lips slitting together perfectly.
A loud knock on the door followed by Logan's offensive voice broke the moment.
"Ay! You can't hoard him in your room! That's not fair. How's he supposed to pick which one of us he wants when you're holding him hostage?"
Erik growled into Charles' mouth before rubbing his already hard cock against the man's thigh, showing him just what else he had to offer (as if that little spiel earlier wasn't enough). "Logan's average at best, and not very thick," he whispered into Charles' ear after the kiss.
Charles gasped then smiled up at Erik before saying the following very loudly, "I've already made my decision, and he's in the room with me right now."
A huff of a laugh followed by what sounded like "better call Anna Marie and apologize" could be heard from the other side of the door as Erik brought Charles into another kiss, this one involving tongues.
There was one moment of blissful silence, and then…
"Unless you two are up for a threesome."
"Go the fuck away, Logan!" Erik shook his head, eyes closing. When they opened again, he raised one questioning eyebrow in Charles' direction just in case.
The brunet just shook his head. "No. No, just you. Tempting, but I think I'd like to not make things complicated between us…should possible future relationships arise."
Erik smiled like a goddamn shark. "I'd like that very much."
Epilogue…
"So, who here thought six months ago we'd all end up like this?" Logan asked, one arm slung around Anna Marie's shoulders.
"What? You mean here in this café, or all of us in a small booth together without threats of death being passed around?" Erik sat back, placing his own arm around Charles' shoulders.
"The night's still young," Charles pointed out.
Erik smiled entirely too wide. "This is true."
Logan laughed. "You know what I meant."
Looking fondly up at Erik, Charles made a face that had Logan worrying his lunch was going to come back up. "I knew we'd end up like this." He glanced to Logan. "At least Erik and I; I knew he was the one."
Anna Marie aww'd as Logan grumbled, "I was almost the one," resulting in Erik kicking the man under the table. He shook his head fervently at Logan, silently telling him to shut the fuck up.
"What was that, Logan?" Charles asked as he took a sip of his tea.
"Nothing, darling," Erik said as he shot Logan his favorite look: death. "Logan's just talking to himself again."
Oh, did Erik forget to mention that Charles barely remembers that drunken night over six months ago? Don't get him wrong, Charles does remember quite a bit, just not the Logan vs. Erik part. He remembered going home with Erik, making out with Erik up against a door, and then after that it was all a blur. He knew he woke up next to the man, pleasantly sore ass telling him they probably had more than one round of vigorous sex, but the rest of the pieces were missing- namely the Logan pieces.
Erik had never been more thankful in his life. He feared that Charles would sober up in the morning and realize his mistake- that he chose the wrong man that night. Luckily, when Charles did wake up, he rolled over, smiled at Erik and kissed him good morning, resulting in another round of tender fucking.
It was funny, however, when Charles made his way into the kitchen only to jump out of his skin at the sight of Logan—who was, thank god, wearing a shirt this time—making coffee.
"Morning, sunshine," the burly man had said, glancing over at Charles, who had tried to cover his bare chest.
"Jesus, I didn't know Erik had a roommate, sorry." Charles had crossed his arms tighter. "You are his roommate, right?"
Logan had just laughed, pouring his coffee. "I ain't his boyfriend if that's what you're worried about."
So yeah, Erik was pretty relieved to find out that Charles didn't remember Logan, Logan shirtless, Logan's muscles, or most of that blasted night.
Charles did however remember what Erik had said that night about how he knew from the start that Charles was the one for him, and that's all that mattered to Erik; that he remembered that.
"By the way, Anna Marie," Charles said, setting his teacup down, "I don't think I've ever told you how much I like your hair. The white stripes I mean. They're a mutation, a very groovy mutation."
Now Logan was shaking his head fervently, eyes wide.
"Mutation, right, took us from being single celled-"
"Charles," Anna Marie said with a laugh, "I'm gonna stop you right there, sugar." She ran her hand through one of the long, white strands. "It's not a mutation, it's highlights. Only they were supposed to be blonde, but for some reason they turned out white." She looked to Logan. "But I kind of liked them, so I kept them. What about you, Logan, dear. What do you think?"
"Fucking sexy as hell, baby," Logan said as he raised his coffee cup to his mouth, eyes looking anywhere but his girlfriend.
"That's what I thought." Anna Marie looked back to Charles, eyebrow cocked. "Fucking sexy as hell."
Charles laughed. "And I agree."
"What about me?" Erik pulled Charles in closer, nuzzling the side of his face. "You're kind of making me jealous. Should I go out and get white highlights in my hair?"
Logan snorted. "Just don't make any old man jokes," he muttered round his coffee cup.
Anna Marie elbowed him in the side.
Charles studied the man next to him for a moment before declaring, "No. I think I like you just the way you are."
Anna Marie aww'd again as Logan leaned over the side of the booth and fake retched. Another elbow landed in his side and he sat back up, rubbing his ribs with a "why" look on his face, directed at his girlfriend.
Erik ignored all of this in favor of bringing Charles into a quick kiss, just the press of lips to lips. "I love you," he said softly, forehead pressed to Charles'.
Logan had to get up and leave, muttering how the nearest bathroom wasn't near enough while Anna Marie threw a spoon at him.
"And I love you too," Charles replied.
END
