A/N: A Tumblr prompt from my lovely RP partner, beinfinite. The prompt: "You see, Erik has this thing for Charles's hair." And... well. Here is it. :D
"Do you think Hank's right? Cerebro might work better if I shave my head, and we need to find all the mutants we can before it's too late…"
Erik twitches. "No. That's nonsense. If it works now, it will continue to work. Keep your hair, Charles; Lord knows you might lose it when you're older anyway, so don't even bother trying to speed up the process."
Charles nods, shrugging a bit, and moves the conversation along while he rests his eyes, head on a pillow on one side of the sofa, his feet in Erik's lap on the other. Erik idly rubs Charles' tired feet — they've just gotten back from finding Angel, and they have many more mutants to look for soon — and he's focusing instead on a single train of thought.
Charles' hair, oddly enough.
He will never tell Charles this, of course, and he prays that Charles never digs deep enough into his mind to discover these thoughts, but Erik is half in love with Charles' hair.
Charles has perfect hair; thick, soft, silken from years of conditioning it, and naturally wavy and dark. Those tresses are most likely the envy of any man Charles happens to walk by, and that mop of hair is definitely a bit of a fetish of Erik's.
Erik wishes even now that Charles' head was in his lap instead (but the telepath's feet are killing him today, so Erik caves and doesn't protest), because he loves to twist that brunet hair around his fingers, loves to run his dull nails between the strands, loves to slide his hands into the depths of it while he kisses Charles, loves to press his nose into it and inhale that sweet scent of Charles' shampoo, loves to brush his lips against it to soothe Charles' nightmares or headaches, and most of all, he loves to tug on the locks when they make love (as they have been doing for the past few nights).
With a sigh, Erik drops his hands and Charles hums appreciatively. "Thank you, Erik. I feel much better, now."
"What about your head? No headaches today?" Erik ventures slowly, because, really, he can't deny that now that his mind is on the topic of Charles' hair, he has a craving to have it between his fingers now.
"Mm, no headaches. But if you would like me to lie the opposite way anyhow…" Charles offers, peeking open one eye and raising a brow lazily.
"Yes." A pause. "Please," Erik adds, not wanting to sound too terribly demanding. Charles chuckles and obeys, sitting up for a second, pillow in hand, feet grazing the floor, before lying back down again, his pillow returned under his noggin and his eyes falling shut.
The metalbender doesn't hesitate to touch Charles' face, slowly moving his hand up to nestle amongst espresso locks, his fingertips already fanning out and brushing the strands back from Charles' face. He sighs almost contentedly, although he makes a slight frown when Charles smirks a bit at the hummed exhale.
"You like my hair that much, Erik?"
The taller man flushes and takes the extra throw-pillow under his right arm to stuff onto Charles' face as the telepath chuckles.
"Stay out of my head, Charles."
"I'm sorry, Erik, it's just so endearing how much you like my hair," the other man replies, lifting the pillow and tossing it aside. He rolls onto his left ribcage and nuzzles his nose into Erik's abdomen, causing Erik to jerk backward, his stomach flipping and sinking in an aroused manner. "Why don't you and I retire to my room and you can show me a few of your favorite things to do with my hair?"
Erik grins cheekily at the offer, peering down as Charles peers up at the same time, his hands still clutching Erik's shirt, his nose still breathing hotly onto the fabric over the metal-controller's belly.
"I agree. Let's go."