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A/N: This is an M-rated section of the otherwise T-rated story, "Chipped," and probably won't make much sense if read alone. If you'd like to read the story in the proper order, this section takes place during chapter 8 (right after the second 'o0o' break), but if you want to read these parts of the story, you might as well just read the chapter in its entirety on AO3. A link to the AO3 version of the story can be found on my profile (right bellow the disclaimer and the link to the Reviews Lounge, Too). It should be easy enough to find. Please do keep in mind that no part of this story is MA (or E as it's called on AO3); these bonus scenes are merely rated M.

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Bonus Scene 1: Another Way to Show Him

If Charles couldn't show Erik how he felt with his power—couldn't simply project all the desire and affection and wonder directly into Erik's mind—perhaps there was another way to show him. Staring up into Erik's eyes and biting his lip, Charles moved his hips experimentally; Erik had him pressed to the bed with his own hips, and really, the way Erik had lined their bodies up was almost too perfect. As was the feeling of Erik's solid, warm weight on top of him.

The way Erik's eyes widened before clamping shut and his sharp intake of breath were encouraging, so Charles rolled his hips again, intentionally grinding upwards. And, oh, that felt good.

"Charles," Erik gasped, his voice strangled, his body tense and unmoving.

Suddenly terrified that Erik would tell him to stop, Charles squeezed his eyes shut. "Please." His voice was a needy whine in his own ears. "Please, Erik."

Erik let his forehead fall against Charles' shoulder, finally releasing Charles' hands as his grip grew slack. As if I could say no.

Charles' eyes flew open and he grinned brightly, running his now free hands up and down Erik's sides and thinking, Well, come on then.

Lifting his head once again, Erik looked down at Charles, a flash of helplessness in his eyes. He whispered, "You are so beautiful."

Staring boldly up at Erik, Charles challenged, "Show me."

Pushing himself up until he was straddling Charles' hips, Erik hooked his fingers under Charles' shirt and pulled it up, the brush of his knuckles against Charles' abdomen sending delicious thrills of excitement through his body.

Charles lifted his shoulders off the bed and allowed himself to be undressed. Smiling a little uncertainly at Erik, Charles carefully watched his face for a reaction—he knew he wasn't nearly as toned as Erik and he hoped he wouldn't disappoint. But Erik just stared in open, unguarded wonder before finally beginning to touch, fingers brushing lightly over Charles' skin as though he were some precious work of art. Charles relaxed back against the bed, letting his eyes drift closed.

Erik was speaking softly in some language or languages Charles didn't understand, the words sounding like swearing—or perhaps a prayer. Charles grinned, cracking his eyes open once again to peek up at Erik. "Like what you see?"

Swallowing thickly, Erik nodded. "I've never seen anything so..." He shook his head, running his palms down Charles' sides. "Sorry—'beautiful' just doesn't seem... It doesn't seem like enough."

It was rather nice to be worshipped—really quite nice, in fact—but Charles remembered that Erik did have things to do that day, so this really shouldn't take perhaps as long as they'd both like. And maybe Charles was a little impatient. Maybe just a little. "Take your shirt off too."

Erik obeyed, and Charles forgot how to close his eyes for several moments. Erik's tanned skin was brushed with warm gold in the soft light, highlighting the mouthwatering contours of defined muscles. He really did look like a hero out of legend.

"God, Erik," Charles whispered. Feeling almost compelled to touch, Charles allowed his fingers to reach out and do just that. Erik felt deliciously warm and firm. Charles couldn't help grinning.

Erik smiled crookedly down at Charles. Do I pass inspection?

Charles eyes flicked up to his face. God, yes. He licked his lips then leaned forward and flicked his tongue over one of Erik's nipples, reveling in how it hardened at the touch and at Erik's sharp intake of breath. Resting his forehead against Erik's collarbone, his hands drifting to grasp Erik's hips, Charles smiled ruefully. "I could spend years 'inspecting' you and never tire of it. You're—" Charles swallowed, his voice suddenly rough. "You're everything I've ever wanted, ever could want."

Taking Charles very gently by the back of the head—oh so obviously careful to avoid touching the incision on his neck—Erik tilted Charles' face upwards until he could look down into his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was soft and rough. "You're more than I could have ever asked for." And then he kissed Charles under each eye, gentle as a whisper.

Charles' eyes drifted closed and he shivered, hands clutching more desperately at Erik. Erik slid his hands down Charles' back, over Charles' waistband, to settle lower, squeezing experimentally. Charles gasped, eyes flying open and hips jerking forward involuntarily.

Erik caught his gaze with a concerned look. "All right?"

"Yeah." Charles intentionally rolled his hips against Erik. "Definitely." Fumbling with Erik's waistband, he said plaintively, "I want to see. All of you."

There was nothing graceful about the way Erik tugged off his trousers, kneeling on the bed, still straddling Charles. Not that Charles cared, because it didn't take too long and then he could see all of Erik. Or all that was facing him, and that was...a lot. "Wow," he breathed, eyes wide. Then he laughed, shaking his head a bit. "Sorry, I don't seem terribly eloquent at the moment. I do like what I see, though." He looked into Erik's eyes, his expression serious. "Very much."

Erik grinned at him, the skin around his eyes crinkling. "I'm glad."

"I should..." Charles moved to shimmy out of his own pants, blushing at how Erik's avid gaze followed his movements. It seemed Erik could make him blush like he was fourteen again. Finally managing to wriggle completely out of his pants, Charles kicked them aside, uncaring where they fell. Letting out a breath as he laid back on the bed, he squirmed with impatience and demanded, "Touch me."

So Erik did—right hand ghosting across Charles' abdomen to settle possessively atop his hipbone and left hand...oh. Charles arched up into the touch, gasping. "I—" Charles ran shaky hands down Erik's wonderfully toned thighs. "Please." Grabbing Erik's arms, he pulled the other man down on top of him. Like we were before. The skin to skin contact was glorious and Charles couldn't help writhing, grasping at Erik's back in an attempt to pull him closer as Erik's hands stroked maddeningly up and down Charles' sides from the top of his ribcage to his thighs. Charles rolled his hips up against Erik's, feeling a thrill at the evidence of Erik's arousal pressing back against him. Like this—will this be enough? He wasn't sure how to ask about Erik's specific preferences; normally, he would simply have plucked heady desires out of his partner's mind, but of course he couldn't this time. And he wasn't sure Erik would appreciate any conversation starting with, 'All the other times I've had sex...' or, 'Most of my previous partners...' Especially not right now.

"Absolutely," Erik said and Charles wondered fleetingly if Erik would just go along with anything he suggested. And also if Charles would even mind if that were true. God, it just felt so good—Erik slowly rolling his own hips in response to Charles' thrusts, all controlled power and effortless grace—that Charles found it difficult to care about anything else.

"Feels good," he mumbled against Erik's shoulder. "So good."

"Yeah." Erik's breathing was ragged as he trailed open-mouthed kisses up and down Charles' neck and across his collarbone. He kissed his way up the other side of Charles' neck then scraped his teeth over Charles' ear, fingers twisting through Charles' hair.

Charles' climax gripped him unexpectedly when Erik tugged at his hair while grinding down against him. It was an indistinct length of time clutching helplessly at Erik while overcome with sensation before he realized Erik, too, had climaxed and was now nuzzling contentedly at Charles' neck, projecting languid snatches of thought like, So beautiful, and, Mine to protect, and, So damn lucky—don't deserve him, and, a fervent, oft-repeated, Mine, that had Charles grinning broadly even as he turned to hide his face against Erik's muscled bicep as he felt himself blush.

"Charles?" Erik asked softly, tentative fingers stroking through his hair.

You were projecting, Charles explained, pressing his nose against Erik's skin, breathing in his scent. And I think I like you being possessive.

Erik chuckled softly and kissed Charles on the temple. I'm just glad you're not...offended.

"Perhaps I should be." Charles kissed Erik's arm then turned his head to look up at Erik again. "I suppose I can always be offended later. Right now..." He shifted slightly and grimaced. "We really need to get cleaned up."

"Right." Groaning, Erik rolled off of Charles, looking at the mess they'd made with a raised eyebrow. "I really should install some ensuite bathrooms."

"That would be convenient," Charles agreed, reaching for his discarded shirt. "I suppose I'll have to do laundry today as well."

"I suppose so." Erik leaned in and nipped at Charles' ear. "For now, let's take a shower."

"Together?" Sitting on the edge of his bed to pull on his sweatpants, Charles looked back over his shoulder at Erik and raised an eyebrow. "Would we both fit?"

Sliding forward to sit next to Charles, Erik began pulling on his own pants. "If we didn't, I could always just make the stall bigger." He flashed a grin at Charles. "But I'm almost one-hundred percent sure we'll fit."

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It turned out they did fit, so long as they didn't mind touching, and Erik very much did not mind. Nor did Charles, apparently, since he didn't complain. Thankfully, they hadn't run into anyone in the hallway between Charles' room and the bathroom; Erik was relatively sure everyone but Scott would have been able to tell at a glance exactly how they'd spent their morning thus far.

As Erik ran soapy hands over Charles' water-slicked skin, Charles shuddered and leaned against him, tongue flicking out to lick beads of water off his chest. I like how you taste, Charles explained.

"I really don't mind," Erik said, tightening his grip as best he could and pulling Charles closer. I like that you like how I taste. It was a pretty idiotic thing to say, but Charles just grinned and licked him some more, standing on his toes to suck a drop of water off his earlobe.

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