AU. Erik stayed with Charles on the beach and they live/teach together in the Xavier Mansion. Erik objects to Charles' getting up early for first day of school prep. A broken clock and fluff ensues. K+ (Warnings: A german swear-word)

HEY! I've added a new (oneshot) chapter to this, Erik's first day of teaching class, so please read and review (constructive criticism is always helpful). I'm thinking of turning this into a series of oneshots featuring Charles and Erik- tell me if you think it's a good idea!

BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP

"Gah…" Charles' hand shot toward his alarm clock, fumbling to turn it off in the darkness.

Too late.

The clock flew up and bashed itself repeatedly against the ceiling, finally falling in a broken heap of springs on the floor. Charles sighed and punched his chronocidal bedmate in the shoulder. "Erik my friend. That was a tad bit unnecessary."

With a groan, Erik rolled over and put a pillow on his head. Why is it still dark? Why do you have to get up while it's still dark?

" Because," said Charles, catching the thought, "today is the day we start with all those new students, remember?"

Scheisse

"Erik! No swearing."

"How'd y'know it's a swear-word?" the man yawned and burrowed deeper into his covers, unrepentant.

"You say it often enough, idiot. Now, I'm getting up; there's a mountain of preparations to be made. You can stay here, but I expect you to replace that poor, unfortunate timepiece by tonight as well as make it to the ten o-clock lesson without being much later than your students." Charles gave Erik a peck on the neck before he maneuvered onto his wheelchair and flicked on the light, eliciting a torrent of silent cursing from the lump under the blankets.

As Charles began to wheel toward the door, his chair rose a couple inches in the air and started to hover back toward the bed. "Erik. That just isn't fair."

A snigger, and the chair moved a little faster.

"All right, if you're going to play dirty, then so will I."

Charles' memories. Eleven year old Raven singing 100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall at the top of her untrained lungs. The sound piercing through Erik's brain, a high pitched, inexorable squeal. 98 bottles of beer on the wall, 98 bottles of beer…when would it end? How had Charles stood it all those years alone with Raven? 85 bottles of beer on the wall, 85 bottles of beer, take one down, pass it around, 84 bottles of beer on the wall…

At 62 bottles, Erik broke down. The wheelchair, which had been levitating with the intentition of dumping Charles back on the bed, dropped gently to the floor.

"You win…for now."

Charles laughed and stretched out a hand to ruffle his boyfriend's hair. "Of course I do. I'm irresistible aren't I? I won't ask you to help me get dressed; the state you're in, I'm likely to meet the kids looking far more mutated than any of them."

Erik muttered something unintelligible, but Charles felt the affection rolling off of him like warm waves.

"See you in a bit Erik. Don't be late."

"Would I let you down?" Erik had sat up, and was gazing at him, a crooked smile on his face.

"Never."

Erik watched the capable young professor wheel away, reflecting on just how lucky he was to have Charles Xavier in his life. He remembered that moment on the beach, that moment where everything had hung in the balance between conviction and devotion. He remembered the fear he had felt as Charles fell to the sand and the warmth of the man's blood as it dripped onto his legs. He remembered the cold helmet slipping off his skull and the agonized words that had poured into his brain. "Please, Erik, please don't leave. I love you Erik. I can't bear to lose you too." He remembered, and he smiled. He had made his choice. Erik Lensherr had given up hatred, only to gain a love he had thought impossible.

But still-Charles did get up awfully early