A/N: Oh. My. God. I'm writing ANOTHER one. Seriously, someone needs to stop me. I think it's painfully obvious at this point that Charik is consuming my life! Oh well. If this is wrong, I don't wanna be right. This idea popped into my head one night while I was in bed attempting to sleep...for an hour an a half...

VERY, VERY IMPORTANT: Okay kiddies, we're gonna have to play a little pretend game in this fic. This takes place months after the end of First Class and the dreaded beach scene -sob-. However, for the sake of my soul not being torn in half, I'm going to pretend that the whole paralyzing accident never happened to Charles, so please JUST BEAR WITH ME. While Erik did indeed leave Charles and choose to start forming the Brotherhood, he didn't mortally wound his lover. Mkay? Oh yes, and do watch out for a bit of OOC when it comes to Charles, he may come across as bitter and angry at certain times, but hey, the love of his life DITCHED him! Just sayin'.

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men, nor Erik, nor Charles (as much as I'd like to, I don't want to die by means of being impaled by sharp metal objects). However, I do own my OC, who will soon make an appearance.

Erik Lensherr sighed audibly, threading his fingers through his hair. He'd already made so many astounding accomplishments- he'd mastered and gained full potential of his powers, he'd managed to kill that monstrous bastard Shaw who had haunted him for the better part of his life, he'd gathered up a group of powerful mutants who agreed with the ideology of mutant superiority, and yet...he still felt incredibly...empty...

It didn't come as a shock to him, however. He really rather expected that he'd miss Charles for the first few days after they'd...split up. A very nauseated feeling snaked its way into the pit of his stomach as he recalled the last look he'd seen on Charles' face-a combination of pain, frustration, and slight remorse, perhaps-. And oh God, he could never forget the way Charles' beautiful crystalline eyes were spilling tears...for him. It was all because of him.

He didn't want to leave Charles. Hell, that was the furthest thing from what he wanted. He wanted Charles by his side, forever. He wanted to work with Charles to better mutant kind and he couldn't deny that the two of them were definitely at their best when they were together. And still, Charles refused. Charles wanted nothing more than to live in harmony with humans, an idea that still confused Erik to no end. Charles was one of the most intelligent men he'd ever met, yet he was so ignorant. It was painfully obvious to Erik that humans and mutants could never coexist; when humans find something even slightly different or beyond their understanding, they do their absolute best to destroy it. He knew this far too well from the events on the beach tracing all the way back to when he was stripped of any and all identity beyond being "Prisoner 214782". Humans are spiteful, judgmental, and hateful beings. Why Charles would feel the need to protect them when they would never dream of accepting him was beyond Erik's comprehension. Simultaneously, it made him worry about Charles whenever he thought about it; Charles was never going to change his mind and therefore, could wind up being seriously maimed. That was not the way in which he wanted Charles to realize that he was wrong.

"Damnit." He grunted, rubbing his eyelids in a fruitless attempt to wipe the images of Charles being hurt and/or tortured by outraged humans out of his subconscious.

"What's wrong?" Came a sensual, feminine voice that may or may not have had an underlying tone of concern in it.

Erik merely shook his head as Emma strode into the room, swaying her hips in her typical, runway-esque fashion, and taking the seat opposite Erik so as to face him.

"I'm just-" "-Thinking about him, naturally." Emma cut in, a smile gracing her lovely features. She didn't need to have psychic powers to know that her leader was almost always focusing on Charles Xavier in his free time.

A look a slight agitation crossed Erik's face.

"He's fine, you know. He's living with his-well, what's left of his team in that giant mansion of his."

Erik really hated the way she not only assumed that she always knew everything but that, most of the time, she really did. He was dying to know how Charles was, he would kill to see those beautiful blue eyes of his again or to see him smile his radiant smile at him...

"I never doubted that Charles wasn't alright."

Emma tilted her head, "But you do miss him. You want to see him. I don't blame you, I'd find it pretty hard being in love with my-" she stopped herself from finishing her statement when she saw the cold, hard glare that Erik sent in her direction.

Erik didn't need her pointing out the obvious; yes, he was deeply in love with Charles, yes, he missed him, and yes, he wanted nothing more than to just see him-Wait, maybe that wasn't such a far-fetched idea. Charles was one of his closest friends, after all. Maybe he could go to him, just once...just to be able to see him...

Emma cocked an eyebrow at the far-off stare that Erik was giving her.

"Erik?"

He blinked, forcing himself back into reality.

"Emma, I have somewhere to be."

Emma had delved into his mind far before he'd even been able to realize it. She knew what he'd been contemplating and she shook her head in response, her blonde hair bouncing from side to side.

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

Erik looked at her incredulously, as if she had some horrible audacity for telling him not to go into enemy territory just for the sake of seeing a friend.

Emma pressed her lips firmly together, tightening them into a thin line. She really didn't quite know what to tell him.

"You're not gonna like it, Sugar."

Erik's skepticism didn't let up; what was she getting at?

"What are you talking about?"

Emma sighed, "Look, it's really just better if you don't go and see him."

Now Erik was growing nervous. Didn't Emma just say that Charles was fine? What on Earth would upset him by going to see Charles? Whatever it was, he was certain that he could handle it. Nothing was going to stop him from going to see the man he loved. Nothing.

"Look, Emma. I'm going to see him." He was absolutely stoic about this. He rose from his seat, turning his back on the busty blonde.

Emma shook her head once more, "It's a bad idea."

Erik didn't even bother to retort; her statement was answered by a mere 'click' as the door swung shut behind him.

Charles Xavier hummed contentedly to himself as he stared back at his own reflection, smoothing the cologne on his hand over the surface of his collarbone. He buttoned up the few remaining buttons on his white undershirt and was musing about the prospect that he actually looked rather dashing as he turned on his heel and walked into his bedroom which was adjoined to the bathroom. His navy blue sweater vest was lying neatly on his bed where he'd placed it and as soon as he grasped the material in his hand, he stopped. Something felt...off. He felt another presence near him, but it didn't belong to any of the usual suspects, no, it was someone different...someone the likes of which he hadn't sensed in quite some time. But it couldn't be...

His back to the door, Charles gulped as he heard the door open. His heart was beating so rapidly against his ribcage he thought for sure it had to have been audible; his throat suddenly became dry as if he hadn't had water in days and he certainly lost all motivation to hum.

"Hello, Erik." He muttered with as much propriety as he could gather at the moment. And yet, he still didn't turn to face the other man. The painstaking nervousness and curiosity as to why he former partner had returned to him was quickly being overshadowed by anger and frustration-he'd left him, for goodness sake! He cast him aside in order to achieve his own goals, what the hell did he want now?

Erik smiled, "You knew it was me."

"Yes, well, you're the only one who I can sense but not fully attain. You can take off that stupid thing, I'm not going to go prying into your mind." Charles stated with bitterness, rolling his eyes about the fact that Erik was still wearing that damned helmet-the physical symbol of the wall that was now built between them.

Erik raised an eyebrow at Charles' words, he'd never heard Charles speak to anyone like that, let alone him...He decided that perhaps the helmet was further upsetting Charles and thus, took it off. What really bothered him, however, was the fact that Charles still didn't turn to look at him. He pulled a navy blue sweater over his head and shrugged it onto his body. Even though Charles wore far too many layers of clothing for Erik's liking, he still found himself staring hungrily at the other man's hips.

Finally, after what felt like an incredibly horrific, elongated silence, Charles looked at Erik. Instead of those gorgeous eyes being alit with enthusiasm and welcoming, they seemed colder somehow, slightly deadened...

"Erik, what do you want? More importantly, how the hell did you even get in here?" It baffled Charles somewhat, he'd thought that his security system at the mansion was pretty thorough, especially when reinforced by a team of mutants.

Erik was very taken aback by the way in which Charles was speaking to him-he was acting as though he was talking to a hardened criminal.

"I-I asked Azazel for a favor..." He could barely form a cohesive thought; he was too wound around trying to figure out Charles' hostility. Did he no longer consider him a friend? Was he nothing to him now but just an enemy? No, no, Charles loved him...something in the back of his mind told him that that much was certain. So then, was this just a defense mechanism? Was all of this because Charles felt hurt and abandoned? That definitely made sense, but it that was the case, he knew he'd have to break Charles out of his shell and prove to him that he still loved him endlessly.

"Charles, there's something I need to discuss with you."

Charles still didn't look amused. He crossed his arms, "I still haven't changed my mind, Erik. Now if you'll excuse me, there's really something I need to attend to and I cannot be late."

Erik shook his head, "No, this isn't about that. None of this concerns our idealisms."

Charles cocked an eyebrow in that 'Yeah, right' manner. Truthfully, though he was slightly intrigued, he really did need to leave soon...

"Well then, continue. I'm listening."

Erik could sense Charles' growing impatience. He was starting to panic, this was not like his Charles at all.

"I just...I needed to see you."

The way Charles gave a skeptical ghost of a laugh made Erik's heart sink.

"Erik, I would certainly think that I'm the last person on Earth that you'd want to see."

No...how could he think that? Yes, it was true that they'd gone their separate ways, but how could Charles possibly think for one moment that he no longer loved him, let alone despised him?

"Charles...you're all I've been able to think about. No matter what I do, my mind just skips back to you-to us..." Erik bit his lip.

Charles' expression softened a bit, but he still didn't want to let down any defenses. He couldn't bear feeling so incredibly hurt and alone, not anymore. He couldn't go back down that path.

"And?" He prodded.

"'And'?" Erik scoffed, starting to become offended. "And, nothing! I love you, Charles. You belong to me." At this point, he'd managed to cross the threshold and grab Charles' shoulders, giving him a small shake for emphasis. He tried as hard as he possibly could to penetrate Charles' cold, off-putting stare with his own, but it was to no avail. He still felt like he was being blocked somehow.

Charles' eyes melted into a glare. "That's a laugh, Erik, it really is." He punctuated this by shoving Erik's hands off of him. Erik, in turn, felt like someone had punched him clear in the chest.

Charles balled his hands into tight fists in an attempt to stop the tear from building up in his eyes. Not now, not here, not before he had something important to do.

"If I belong to you, you certainly don't keep interest in your belongings for very long, do you? You had absolutely no problem giving me up without looking back! And now you barge into my room, four months after you leave me, and you claim that I belong to you? What was I to you, just some toy to toss aside once you got bored with it? And now that you're bored and lonely again, you try to reclaim me, is that it?" His voice cracked weakly; God, he was such a damn mess sometimes. He thought he was past all of this, he thought that Erik's departure no longer plagued him, but here he was, fighting back tears, and feeling the old wounds reopen.

"Damnit, Charles, I did look back! I look back on my decision every day! Every day I sit and think about you, worry about you, yearn to have you back by my side, wonder if you're happy, dream about the day you and I can be together again. I would never treat you like a toy, Charles. You're so much more to me." Erik grabbed Charles by the chin and forcefully made eye contact with him. He could see Charles resisting the urge to cry and it made him only want to hold him closer.

"You...you did look back?" Charles asked in a small voice, sniffling.

"Of course, Charles. It kills me to know that I've hurt you so badly, but if you give me the chance, I promise that I will never make that mistake ever again. I won't let anyone hurt you. I love you..."

Charles glanced at the clock on his nightstand, it read 5:30 pm. Fuck!

He backed out of the other man's grip suddenly, though not really wanting to. Erik merely looked at him questioningly.

"Erik, I-I'm sorry, but I have to go." He felt so conflicted and horrible at this point, he didn't even care that he was running late.

"Charles, where are you going?" Erik asked in a very sweet, longing tone. It sounded so much like one lover expressing concern to another that it made Charles feel nauseous with guilt to hear it.

Charles averted Erik's gaze at all costs, "I...just...I have this thing with a guy-a friend of mine."

Erik felt bewildered for a moment before he started to piece things together. Charles was being extremely distant, he was dressed nicely, he was wearing cologne, he wouldn't so much as look at him,

and he was extremely concerned with tardiness...

"Charles, you aren't...going on a date?" He pleaded over and over in his mind for Charles to tell him he was wrong. Please, please, please...

Charles clenched and unclenched his fists; his silence confirmed Erik's greatest fear. Erik felt like someone had slammed his head in a car door, his mind was racing, his head was throbbing, and the rest of his body felt entirely numb.

Charles brushed past Erik as quickly as he could, trying to avoid making the scene any worse, though he truly didn't see how it could.

"My friend, I'm sorry..." He uttered in what was barely a whisper and ran as fast as his legs would carry him, lest Erik see the tears that were now running in hot trails down his face.

Erik, meanwhile, was rooted to the spot. He didn't know how to take this all in. Charles, his Charles, had found someone else...This just couldn't be. No, it couldn't be. And he didn't mean it in the sense that he thought it was impossible, he meant that this relationship between Charles and whoever the hell was stupid enough to try to take him from Erik literally COULD NOT be. In all honesty, he couldn't blame Charles for trying to alleviate his pain by finding companionship in someone else, but not anymore. When Erik Lensherr says that something belongs to him, he doesn't lie. Charles Xavier was no exception. Matter of fact, Charles was Erik's most valued possession-nothing else had any meaning without Charles. And as such, he wasn't going to roll over and give up, oh hell no. This was just a temporary setback...it shouldn't be too hard to break a couple up, right? No, not when it was Charles. Charles loved him. And only him.

Erik Lensherr smiled, he did enjoy a challenge now and then. If he was to have Charles, he was more than willing to fight.

"Charles Xavier...you'll be mine yet."