Summary: Erik is one of the best con men in the world. But now he's starting to doubt his skills, because Charles belongs to Sebastian Shaw and is completely out of reach. Cherik Slash.

A/N: Erm, didn't mean for this to be more than one chapter, but apparently this is a tale that is demanding to be told, so here we go again!

Warning: Creepy Shaw is creepy.

Keep Me Forever

Chapter One: Tennis Whites

Erik had seen him before, many times in fact, over the years that he had been working for Sebastian Shaw. His boss had a penchant for attractive perfect things, and until that summer, Erik had never seen anyone who could fit that description better. For Erik, Charles Xavier was truly beautiful… and completely and utterly out of his reach.

The first time Erik had met Charles Xavier, was of the very few times Erik had been rendered speechless. Losing his usually stoic sense of control, and over a boy no less had left Erik feeling bewildered. It wasn't something that ever happened to him before, and would no doubt never happen again. No one deserved to find that feeling more than once in their life, and it was an overwhelming realisation that his world had been shifted without his permission.

He'd been on one of his many trips to Shaw's country home, where business would take a summer recession and the team would gather to pool their research and plan their next move. As industrious con artists they were constantly running many schemes at the same time, and it was always helpful to regroup. Even if it did mean spending a whole week in Sebastian Shaw's company.

Erik remembered he had been sitting the garden with Emma Frost; his reluctant partner in many a previous scam. He had been trying to be civil for the sake of a quite life and partaking of her offer of freshly made lemonade. The morning had begun like any other, with breakfast and then a debrief from Shaw, thanking them all for making the trip down. These speeches always struck Erik as a little ironic, as it wasn't as if they had had a choice not to come.

So, with the promise of it being another ordinary day of business talks at lunch and dinner, there had been nothing to suggest something out of the ordinary was about to happen. Fate had cruelly waited until Erik had finally started to let his guard down, before it launched its surprise upon him. With the sun beating down, and the condensation dripping down the side of his cold glass, Erik had felt his breath hitch. He wondered for so long after, why Charles Xavier had chosen that particular moment to come wandering up the garden path. Dressed all in white, a blinding vision as the sun beat down on him.

He had stopped dead in his tracks, as if alarmed to see them there, shrugging his large sports bag further up his shoulder. The man beside him had continued to walk, a tennis racket tucked under his arm, not seeming to notice that his opponent had forgotten how to walk. Erik had known he had been staring, but it been difficult to look away from the boy's young face and his large blue eyes.

His image was still bright in his memory, brown hair held back from his face with a white band, looking like a little Rafael Nadal, straight out of Wimbledom. Only he was clearly no sportsman, his arms were too slim and the rest of him too slight. The boy had blushed as he'd walked towards them, and making Erik's heart beat a little faster.

"Hello," he'd said shyly, dropping his bag on the floor by their table. "Are you friends of Sebastian's?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Emma had replied, but tempered her usual blunt speech with a smile. Her eyes swept over him, but unlike Erik still remembered whom to speak. "We're here for business."

"Oh," he'd said looking slightly disappointed. "Yeah, I should have known that…" he added as if he wished they would tell him more about why they were here, but he didn't ask.

Erik's eyes drifted towards the bag the boy had dropped, above the brand name someone had written Charles Xavier in black marker pen. It struck Erik as a very school boy kind of thing to do, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable by the way his body was reacting to this boy. But he'd been unable to ignore the sudden explosion of emotions inside of him.

"Well, I suppose I'll get to meet you properly later. I'm not supposed to speak to people I don't know," the boy said and helped himself to a small glass of lemonade. His eyes stayed on Erik as he drank.

"Well I wont tell anyone," Emma promised, darting a quick look at Erik. The boy put his glass down, wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, and picked up his bag.

"Please don't, Shaw doesn't like it," he said turning to walk away and rejoin his friend on the path.

Erik had felt increasingly uncomfortable, and the feeling didn't ease as he looked back at the meeting in his memory. The kid had barely looked over sixteen, but there was no way to tell for sure. But the way he had gone out of his way to speak to them was telling of his young curiosity, even though he'd obviously been warned not to approach Shaw's associates. Erik hadn't been too concerned over this warning, it sounded like sound advice; they were all untrustworthy criminals after all. But the boy had made it sound as if he wasn't allowed to speak to anyone, ever, which struck Erik as far too controlling, even for Shaw.

"How do you make friends then, if you're not allowed to talk to anyone?" Erik had asked, finally finding his voice, but his question came out accusingly. The boy frowned at him, as if he was suddenly wishing he hadn't bothered to make the effort to speak to them after all. Erik supposed they hadn't come across as very friendly, despite Emma's smiles; all he'd done was stare.

"I don't," he'd said sadly before he'd walked away.

Erik had waited eagerly for Shaw to bring up the subject of the boy all the way through dinner, and then waited eagerly through the meeting that followed it, but nothing was said. He hadn't seen the boy since either, and surprisingly it was Emma who finally found the answers to the questions that had been multiplying in Erik's mind, and they were not what he had been expecting. He'd imaged the boy was Shaw's nephew or some other relation, who was spending his school holidays at his rich uncle's country house. The truth had left Erik feeling uncomfortable for the second time.

"Cute, wasn't he?" Emma had asked with a cruel smile on her lips. She'd helped herself to coffee, and looked at Erik slyly.

"Who?" Erik replied gruffly, having known exactly whom she was talking about.

Erik's mind had immediately flown to the boy in tennis whites, with Charles Xavier scrawled on his heavy sports bag. He'd hardly been out of his thoughts since Erik had seen him, and Erik was recognising in himself the beginning of an obsession. He was sure the fixation would pass as soon as he knew the mystery; his mind was just running away with him. But still, he realised now he had been wise to be on his guard for madness.

"His name is Charles Xavier," she'd explained with a slight smile. "Lucky for you Erik, he's a seventeen year old college student, so your perving is legal. But Shaw might not approve… they're... well it's anyone's guess what they are to each other. They're not related, that's for damn sure."

Erik had scowled. He'd refused to rise to Emma's baiting, he'd know she couldn't be trusted, and had berated himself for being so unguarded in front of her. Clearly she knew exactly where his mind had been going to, and he knew she'd betray him to Shaw in a heartbeat. She still would if she ever found out. Her smile had made him feel disgusted at himself. The boy really was just a boy, and was far too young to have been capturing Erik's attention.

But those blue eyes had been burning into his soul ever since he'd innocently turned them towards Erik.

"Tell it to someone who cares," Erik had said, abandoning his breakfast and walking away from her. He knew he'd given in too easily, but if he'd stayed, he knew he would have given something away. He could remember hearing Emma laughing mockingly after him as he walked away.

Nothing had unnerved him more about Shaw than this strange revelation. What was Shaw doing with this young man, barely even out of school, was Emma right, and they were together? The question had never really been answered. The age difference alone was jarring, Shaw must be past forty by now, so what would a young man like Charles see in him? Except for the obvious… So, say Charles was here for Shaw's money, he wouldn't be the first, and probably wouldn't be the last. Shaw changed his partners like he changed his clothes, but Erik had never remembered meeting any of them at his home before. They were usually just treated like accessories, taken to clubs and restaurants, and used as a pretty distraction when the conversation got boring.

Erik had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he found himself bumping into someone, startled he stepped back to find a young girl looking up at him. Blonde hair plaited and pinned up on her head like a halo, a smile on her face. She'd had a book in her hand, which clearly didn't belong to her; it's title read fundamental genetic theories. Erik hadn't had time to react, before she'd started running again.

He still didn't know what had made him follow her, hoping that no one was watching him. He didn't know what he would have said if he'd been challenged.

"I found it!" the girl was shouting as she hurried towards her destination. She turned into a room, and Erik crept up to the half opened door and peered through the gap between the door hinge and the frame.

He'd seen Charles standing close to Shaw, his hair now flopping down into his eyes. Shaw had been leaning against a desk, his hand resting on the boy's shoulder.

"Thank you Raven," Shaw had said taking the book from the little girl. "I told you if you passed your exams, I'd buy you a present," he added towards Charles, holding the book out to him. "It's what you wanted, correct?"

Charles had taken the book and stared at the cover as if he wasn't overjoyed, but instead rather scared. Finally he'd looked up at Shaw, and even from so far away Erik could tell that his stance was tense, as if he was forcing himself to stay where he was and smile up at Shaw.

"Thank you, yes, it is what I wanted."

Shaw, who had been looking at him intensely now smiled, and Erik could see that it was not a fatherly love in his eyes. His hand was stroking the boy's arm, and he bent forward to kiss Charles' forehead. The boy had closed his eyes briefly, but Erik couldn't tell whether it was from pleasure or disgust, and then it was over. Shaw had left the room and Erik had stayed in his hiding place until he was sure it was safe.

So it was with confusion, concern and with an attraction he tried desperately to ignore, that Erik first became aware of Charles Xavier… but little did he know that it wouldn't be the last. Neither did he realise his curiosity would grow until it was unbearable.

Out of the all things he had ever decided to steal, Charles Xavier was the only thing he had every really wanted.

A/N: I want to just say that there will be NO underage stuff in this fic, just incase you were wondering what's going on. Please bear with me with the Shaw/Charles storyline, more will be revealed. Please review! :)