A/N; Hello again! The little fics in this series will mostly be based off of this tumblr post, as well as anything else I want to add. They will mostly be unrelated/semi-related one shots all based in the same AU. I think they'll have powers in all of them but if they don't I'll let you know! Unbetaed. Sorry for any mistakes.

Hope you like it! Don't forget to R&R.

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men.

Erik checked the old, scruffy watch resting against his wrist and sighed. It was only ten minutes into last period, which meant at least a few people were still dawdling in the hallways.

He leant against the cool wall of the bathroom, deliberately ignoring the germs and grime that was undoubtedly rubbing off onto his shirt. He didn't want to get caught skipping class again, not after what Edie had done last time.

He could still go to class if he wanted to, Mr Udell was used to him being late – expected him to be, really. Yet sitting in a room with complete idiots and listening to a teacher, who so obviously did not like him, explain things his father had taught him years ago didn't sound particularly fun to the teenage mutant. So, he waited, foot tapping impatiently, until enough time had passed for him to slip from the school gates unseen.

He made his way from the dirty bathroom, letting the door slam shut with a loud bang, and walked in the direction of his locker to grab a few things before he went. He was about to open the door of his locker when he heard the muffled cry for help, followed by the distinct feeling of metal vibrating as a hand banged against it.

Following the feeling, Erik made his way further down the hall, stopping abruptly when he spotted the bright yellow mutant freak written in paint across one of the grey lockers. Eyes narrowed, he tore the door away with a clench of his fist, uncaring about the loud bang it made as it hit the row of lockers behind him.

A kid his age had come tumbling out and Erik had stuck his arm out, curling around the boy's waist and lifting him slightly to make sure he didn't fall. Head tilted to the side, Erik gave the kid a once over, recognising him as the know-it-all telepath he shared a few classes with. Charlie, or something.

Making sure the other boy could stand on his own, Erik let his arm drop back to his side and took a few steps back. "Are you okay?" he inquired, noticing the faint blush on the other kid's cheeks as he looked up at him.

"Yes," the telepath said, grinning. "Yes, just fine. Thank you, for that."

Erik raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," the boy repeated. "Thanks to you."

Erik couldn't help but notice how blue the kid's eyes were. Or how red his lips were as they formed perfectly accented words.

The kid held his hand out in the small space between them, "I'm Charles. Charles Xavier."

Not Charlie, then. Erik nodded, taking the offered hand and holding it a little longer than necessary. "Eri—"

"—K Lehnsherr. Yeah, I know. You've got a rep."

"Right," Erik mumbled, hand rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. "Hopefully it's not all bad."

Charles beamed at him again, and Erik really couldn't remember anyone ever looking at him like that. "Maybe to some people," was the truthful reply. "Not to me."

"Good," Erik said, lips lifting in a slight smile. "Uh, how long were you in there?"

"Oh," Charles murmured, looking behind him. "About half an hour."

Erik looked at him surprised, "Who put you in there?"

A sigh, "A couple of guys off the football team."

"Why didn't you stop them?"

"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm rather small," Charles said, laughing awkwardly. "It's easy for them to overpower me."

"No, I mean," Erik muttered, hesitating. "Aren't you the telepath?"

Charles' face heated again, "Well, yes."

"Wouldn't it be easy to just…" Erik made a hand gesture near his forehead, hoping Charles would get the hint.

"Well, yes," Charles said, again. "It's just—I can get in a lot of trouble—and I'd really rather not have to— and people don't like telepaths as it is— "

"Fuck 'em," Erik said simply. "Who cares? Do what you need to to save your own ass."

Charles went quiet for a moment, staring at Erik with an odd look on his face before laughing again. "Like you?" he asked, pointing to the mangled bit of metal in the hall.

Erik grinned, teeth on display, "Yes, like me."

"And where does that get you?" Charles replied, and there was a bit of playfulness in his tone.

"Not shoved in my own locker."

Charles giggled, and Erik couldn't help but think of how cute the sound was.

Charles looked behind him at his exposed locker again and then back towards Erik. "Do you mind maybe fixing my door?"

"Oh, yeah," Erik said, fingers clasping around Charles' wrist so he could pull the kid out of the way. Once Charles was safely next to him, he waved his hand a bit, smiling softly as the comforting feeling of metal washed over him. The door reattached to Charles' locker just fine, but the bright yellow tag could still be seen.

"Unfortunately my power can't fix that," Erik muttered, angrily. "The janitors usually clean them off overnight though. I'm pretty sure one of them is a mutant."

"It's okay," Charles reassured him. "I'm used to it. My old school was much the same."

"You shouldn't have to be used to it," Erik pointed out, turning towards him once more.

"No, you're right," Charles smiled sadly. "But I still am." He went quiet again, eyes trailing over Erik's form. "Do you want to go get coffee? Or ice-cream? I mean, as a tank you, for, you know, saving me?"

Erik smirked and leant against the row of lockers, "A goody-two-shoes like you skipping class? I never would have thought."

"There's no point in going now, is there? I've already pissed half the class," Charles replied. "Besides, Udell's a mutant-hating moron who can't teach anything, so I'm not really missing out."

Erik chuckled, "Very true."

"Will you come?" Charles asked again, eyes lit in excitement.

Erik sighed, "You're buying."