This one was inspired by the fact that my uncle - on more than once occasion I believe - brought his girlfriend home and had them ask if the girl he had photos of was his daughter when it was in fact me, his niece. Now I'm the adult, who has pictures of his baby daughter everywhere. It's the beginning of a new 'verse, which will be posted in the order written, not chronological order.

X

"Is that your daughter?"

It wasn't the first time Erik had brought someone home who'd mistaken Lorna's picture for that of his daughter. What was different was the way it was said, and not just the overly polite – and sexy – British accent. No, usually the question was accompanied with a tone of horror and eyes searching for the nearest exit. This time it sounded curious and was accompanied with a small smile and bright eyes.

"No," Erik shook his head. "She's my baby sister."

This was met with raised eyebrows, followed with a smirk.

"Sorry, how old are you again?"

"Twenty five," Erik grinned. "She's five. She's the youngest. I'm the eldest."

"She's cute," the guy replied. Erik was becoming more attracted to him by the second. "How many other siblings do you have?"

"Follow me," Erik smiled. He led the guy into the kitchen to the fridge, which was covered with pictures of his siblings, interspersed occasionally with snapshots of the few friends he'd managed to keep around. "That's Wanda and Peter, they're twelve. And that's Anya, she's eight. Then Lorna's the baby."

"They're adorable," the guy grinned.

"What was your name again?" Erik asked.

"You forgot my name?" the guy smirked.

"I've half a bottle of tequila in me, sue me," Erik snorted. The guy laughed, his eyes sparkling in the dim light of the apartment.

"It's Charles."

X

"Erik!"

Erik winced as his sister's squeal pierced his eardrums, then grinned. On the computer screen, a blurry edged Anya bounced back in Germany. He leaned forward on the desk, as if it could bring him physically closer to his little sister. Charles would be over soon with take-out, he knew, because Erik had told him he had to skype Anya to wish her a happy birthday.

"Hello Hase," he smiled. "Happy birthday. Did you get my gift?"

"Yes, I love it!" Anya replied.

"Good. Tell me what other presents you got."

Anya launched into a detailed description of every gift she'd received from her family and friends. Erik settled with his hand against his chin, listening to her in rapture. Mid-way through, the doorbell rang; knowing it would be Charles, Erik simply called, "It's open," and continued listening to Anya. He smiled at Charles, receiving a wave in reply.

"Who's that?" Anya asked.

"That's my boyfriend Charles," Erik explained.

"Can I meet him?"

Erik hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. Charles obviously heard Anya's request and came out of the kitchen, leaning against the wall and shrugging. Charles always listened whenever Erik talked about his siblings, and not just listening politely out of obligation either, but asking questions and remembering details Erik told him previously.

"Up to you," Charles said quietly.

"You don't have to," Erik replied.

"You're okay with it?"

Erik nodded. With a smile Charles pushed off of the wall and leaned over Erik's shoulder.

"Hello Anya," he greeted.

"How do you know my name?" she frowned.

"I'm a telepath," he replied seriously.

"Really?" Anya gasped.

"No," Erik said. "He's kidding."

"Erik has your picture on his fridge," Charles explained. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you!" Anya beamed.

"How old are you today?" Charles asked. He wrapped his arms around Erik's neck as he leaned further forward. Erik bit back a smile, leaning back into his boyfriend's embrace.

"I'm nine," Anya replied.

"Wow. Nine! So grown up!" Charles exclaimed.

Anya giggled, and Erik glanced between her and Charles and fell a little bit in love with him.

X

And just like that, to Erik's family, they became Erik and Charles. Birthday cards were signed love Erik and Charles, and presents came from both of them. Calls and e-mails included tell Charles we're asking about him, or give Charles our love; and in return Charles would tell Erik say hi from me, or give them all my love.

Erik loved it.

Which was just as well, because he loved Charles too. Before he knew it, they'd been together a year and it was wonderful. Their lives were hopelessly entwined.

"I've been thinking," Charles announced one afternoon as he let himself into Erik's apartment.

"Okay," Erik replied. This could be literally anything with the way Charles' brain worked, from a serious socio-political problem, to a personal belief, to do penguins have knees. Erik was certain that if the NSA were watching internet browsing history, then they'd classified them as either potential threats or completely barking (And they totally were watching, Charles, it's not just paranoia thank you).

"And I was thinking, why don't we move in together?" Charles continued.

Erik grinned.

Really, he should've seen it coming. It was the next logical step.

Charles moved in within a fortnight.

X

Charles let himself into the apartment, tossing his bag under their desk, before heading to the kitchen with the carrier from their favourite Chinese place. He found Erik there, already sourcing plates and cutlery for dinner.

"Hello," Charles smiled, leaning up to kiss his boyfriend.

"Hi," Erik replied. "Good day?"

Charles hummed. He stuck the take out containers into the waiting oven to reheat while they finished preparing for dinner.

"Weren't you going to call your mum this afternoon?" he asked.

"Yes," Erik nodded. "We chatted for about twenty minutes before the kids got home."

"And then they distracted you and monopolised your time?" Charles finished.

"Yes," Erik replied sheepishly. It was crazy, Charles thought, that his friends spent so much time worrying about him for choosing to be with Erik. Yes, Erik was a little rough around the edges. Charles wasn't denying that. But he had the biggest heart, particularly when it came to children. After witnessing Erik interact with Kurt for the first time, Charles had been ready to propose then and there. "Actually, there's something I wanted to discuss with you," Erik continued.

"What about?" Charles replied. He retrieved the take out from the oven, cursing quietly as he hurried to the table, the containers burning his fingers. Erik joined him at the table.

"You remember my aunt who died two months ago?"

"Not personally, but yes, I remember her death," Charles said.

"She left us all money since she didn't have kids," Erik explained. "And Wanda and Peter asked if they could use some of theirs to come here for a week or so. Would you be okay with them staying with us?"

"It's your apartment," Charles shrugged.

"It's yours too," Erik reminded him.

He kept forgetting that.

"Of course I'm fine with it," Charles smiled. "I'd love to meet your family in person."

Erik grinned, then leaned over the table to give Charles a soy sauce flavoured kiss.

X

Charles doubted he'd ever truly become accustomed to waking to the feeling of Erik pressed against his back, warm and boneless in a way he rarely was while awake. It was particularly welcome on mornings like this one, where he could feel the chill of the bedroom air against his face, in sharp contrast to the warmth beneath the covers. Outside he could hear the rain drumming against the window and the wind whistling; all in all, it made him want to slide further under the covers into Erik's embrace and avoid the world.

"So much for not hitting New York," Erik murmured, his voice rough, thick from eight hours of sleep.

Charles hummed in agreement. The tail end of a hurricane that had danced off the coast of Florida, worrying homeowners all the way up the coast, had died as it made its way north, until last night when the storm that the hurricane had petered down to was forecasted to reach New York. The weather casters had assured the public that it would remain offshore. They were wrong. As usual.

"Somehow I think the park is off the menu for today," Charles agreed. Erik nodded against his shoulder blades, before placing his lips against the knot at the base of Charles' neck. "We should get up," Charles continued reluctantly, the thought of leaving his warm bed for the cold apartment entirely unappealing. "I don't want to leave Wanda and Peter in the cold."

"We could wait a little longer," Erik suggested, mouthing his way along Charles's collarbone as his hands spread across his stomach, drifting lower.

"No, you horny bastard!" Charles hissed, biting back a giggle while stopping the path of Erik's hands with his own. "I am not having sex with you while your siblings are in the next room!"

"Why?" Erik grinned down at him.

"Because I am not being held responsible for scarring them for life!" Charles retorted.

"Spoilsport," Erik mumbled good-naturedly, before leaving down to give Charles a peck on the lips. Charles rolled his eyes, but allowed himself a moment longer in bed to watch Erik get up and hurriedly retrieve a t-shirt and two pairs of thick socks to fight off the chill, enjoying the way his back muscles stretched as he pulled the shirt on over his head. "Enjoying the view?" Erik teased, sitting once more to tuck the bottom of his pyjama pants into his socks. For a man who loved winter, Erik really hated the cold.

"Always," Charles replied, scooting forward to place a kiss against Erik's shoulder.

They made their way quietly to the kitchen, pausing only so Charles could crank up the thermostat under Erik's approving gaze, tiptoeing past the still-sleeping Peter on the couch. It was difficult to move around the tiny kitchen silently, particularly as there was no door separating it from the living room, but they did their best to avoid disturbing Erik's brother as they made tea for Erik and coffee for Charles, communicating silently with ease after nearly a year together. Once they had their respective drinks in hand, Erik leaned back into the corner of the counter, tugging Charles into his side.

"You're using me to keep warm, aren't you?" Charles teased.

"Maybe," Erik whispered.

Charles smiled, more than content to be a life-sized hot water bottle to his boyfriend.

Halfway through their mugs, they heard the shuffle of feet in the living room, followed by the bathroom door.

"There's life," Erik murmured. Charles hummed in agreement, keeping quiet. After all, there was no movement from the spare bedroom yet, and the walls were far too thin in their apartment. A few minutes later, Peter stumbled into the kitchen, his hair sticking up in all directions.

"Morning," the thirteen year old grunted.

"Good morning," Charles smiled, while Erik nodded, "Morning Pete." They made no move to separate from each other; while sex was most definitely off the table with the twins around, Charles wasn't going to stop cuddling his boyfriend. Besides, whenever they Skyped the Lehnsherrs in Germany, nine times out of ten they were wrapped around each other anyway.

"Do you guys have any pop tarts?" Peter asked.

"In the freezer, back of the top drawer," Charles replied. "Erik likes to think I don't know about his secret stash," he added, before kissing his indignant boyfriend.

"Sweet," Peter exclaimed.

From the other room, they heard the sounds of Wanda leaving the spare room and entering the bathroom, followed by the rumble of the water tank as they shower sprung into life. In the few days the twins had been here, Charles had accepted Wanda's routine of showering and dressing before she appeared for breakfast. He guessed it must be a teenage girl thing; he'd been in Oxford when Raven was thirteen, only returning for Christmas and summer holidays, so his experience was somewhat limited. He and Erik took it as a signal that the morning could begin in earnest and separated to begin making their own breakfasts.

"Um, can I-" Peter began.

"Peter, help yourself to whatever you want," Charles interrupted. "Treat this place as you would your home. You can't make any more of a mess than Erik."

"Hey!" Erik objected.

"Sorry darling, it's organised chaos," Charles corrected.

"Thank you," Erik sniffed.

"Only without the organisation," Charles finished.

They migrated from the kitchen to the table in the living room, Erik's foot automatically hooking around Charles' ankle as they sat down.

"Erik, will you help me dye my hair?" Peter asked and Charles nearly choked on a grape.

"Sure," Erik shrugged.

"Um. And what, precisely, do you think your mother will have to say about that?" Charles asked tentatively.

Erik shrugged again.

"She won't care. As long as I don't send them home with a piercing or a tattoo, it's fine."

"She nearly killed you when you said you wanted a tattoo," Peter agreed. "It was hilarious."

It had been a surprise to Charles when Erik explained the Jewish views of tattoos; he'd never heard anything on the subject before. The fact that Edie Lehnsherr viewed tattoos so was a little disconcerting however.

"Note to self, never take my shirt off around your mum," he muttered.

"Wait, you have a tattoo?" Peter exclaimed.

Charles nodded.

"It's very sexy," Erik smirked.

"Okay, gross," Peter grimaced.

Charles remained unruffled. He knew exactly how Erik felt about his tattoo; his shock and admiration that first night they hooked up had been a big turn on.

"Wait," he frowned. "Why would Erik be able to help you dye your hair?"

Peter gasped, his face the image of someone who'd just stumbled onto a goldmine.

"You mean you don't know?" he asked.

"Know what?" Charles frowned.

"About him being blond?"

"What?" Charles exclaimed.

"It was a mistake," Erik muttered.

"It was beautiful," Peter declared. "Well, actually it was terrible, but it was awesome."

The bathroom door opened behind them and Wanda joined them, her hair still damp from the shower.

"Hey, what's going on?" she asked, taking the seat between Erik and Peter.

"Charles didn't know Erik went blond!" Peter announced.

Instantly Wanda gasped, her face lighting up. She jumped to her feet and darted around the table to Charles' side, successfully evading Erik's grab for her with practised ease, her phone already in hand.

"You have to see this," she insisted, her fingers dancing over the phone's screen. "Here," she thrust the phone into Charles' hands.

"Oh goodness," he exclaimed, biting back a smirk. He turned to Erik. "Oh darling, that was not a good look for you."

"Shut up," Erik muttered.

"You have to send me these," Charles told Wanda.

"You show those to Summers and we're done," Erik warned.

"How much is my silence worth?" Charles asked.

Erik's expression instantly turned lascivious. Charles rolled his eyes.

"Not in front of your siblings," he admonished.

"Gross," Peter interjected.

X

After breakfast, they all bundled up against the weather, ready to make the short dash from the building to the car port where Erik's battered old Toyota sat waiting. Since their plans of taking the twins to Central Park had been derailed by the weather, Peter and Erik had decided that there was no time like the present to dye Peter's hair. Charles remained unsure as to how Edie Lehnsherr would react to them sending back her younger son with his hair a different colour, but both Erik and the twins assured him it would be fine. He allowed himself to admit defeat.

It wasn't far to the nearest pharmacy, but they weren't walking anywhere in this weather. Erik dropped then at the door, before leaving to park the car. He joined them five minutes later soaked to the skin with a glare that could rival Medusa's. Charles squeezed his shoulder appreciatively, then Erik allowed himself to be dragged into a discussion with his brother over hair dye.

Meanwhile Charles drifted through the aisles, picking up a few bits and pieces he knew they needed to restock, then found Wanda in the make-up aisle.

"If there's anything you'd like," Charles said, "Erik and I will pay for it."

"You don't have to do that," Wanda replied.

"Erik has told you I'm rich, right?" Charles said. "A few bits of make-up really aren't going to make a dent in my trust fund. It's rather embarrassingly large."

"I don't really know how to use any of it," Wanda admitted.

"Why don't I show you?" Charles suggested. "Those two are going to be busy dying your brother a different colour. I could teach you while they're busy doing that."

"You know how to apply make-up?" Wanda raised her eyebrows.

"Yes," Charles nodded. "I have a sister and several female friends. Plus, my undergraduate days were wild."

She laughed, a low throaty chuckle that reminded Charles so strongly of Erik. Usually it was his youngest siblings he saw most like Erik, despite the age difference. It was nice to see a little of him in Wanda too.

"What do you say?" he smiled.

"Okay," Wanda nodded.

Once back at the apartment, Erik and Peter ensconced themselves in the bathroom, but only after Erik turned up his music so they could hear it.

"Come on," Charles smiled at Wanda, leading her into his and Erik's room. She hesitated a little in the doorway, before planting herself on the edge of the bed. "Make yourself at home," he encouraged, echoing the sentiment he'd shared with Peter at breakfast.

Wanda glanced around the room as Charles retrieved cotton wool, tissues and make-up remover just in case, no doubt comparing it to Erik's old room back in Germany.

"I remember that when I used to hide in Erik's room when I was little," she said, pointing at the painting in the wall. It was a print that Erik had bought as a teenager for fifteen euros and dragged across the Atlantic with him years later. Charles liked it, so it had remained even after he moved in. In return, Erik allowed him to put up several photographs, of the two of them and their families. "Who's that?" Wanda asked, pointing to the picture of Erik holding Kurt that sat by Charles' beside.

"That's Kurt, my nephew. He's three," Charles explained.

"He's cute," Wanda smiled.

"He is," Charles agreed. "Now, here we go. You have beautiful skin, darling, so my advice is to avoid foundation. You don't need it. Here's a little concealer," he explained, applying it underneath her eyes, "For any dark shadows and spots. Then, all you need is a little powder for shine... And then blusher... And finally some mascara. And there we are."

Wanda shifted to study her appearance in the mirror, then turned to beam at him.

"Thanks Charles."

"No problem," he replied. "When we go out for dinner at the weekend, I'll show you how to add eyeshadow and eyeliner."

"Awesome," Wanda smiled.

X

Charles breathed in the smell of Erik's shampoo as they sat on the couch that evening. Erik had sprawled across half of the couch, leaning against Charles as he was locked in battle against Wanda and the now silver haired Peter on the Xbox. Wanda was currently kicking both her brothers' asses. Charles smiled.

Although the wind had died, the rain was still pattering against the windows, but inside their flat it remained cozy. Combined with the easy companionship with the twins and the proximity of his boyfriend, Charles felt at home. He half-buried his face into Erik's hair as he continued to scroll through his iPad, smiling at the occasional German curse word coming from either Erik or Peter as they lost dramatically to their sister.

A little while later, he felt Erik tilt his head backward and shifted his gaze away from the tablet's screen to his upside down boyfriend.

"Hello," he murmured.

Erik smiled, reaching up to give Charles a peck on the lips, before challenging Wanda to another round. Charles chuckled, rubbing circles into the skin on Erik's hip where his t-shirt had ridden up.

Eventually he noticed Peter stifling a yawn, and when Charles looked closely he saw Wanda was also failing. He tapped Erik's hip.

"I think it's time for bed," he announced. The twins, of course, put up token protests like the thirteen year olds they were, but they quickly shuffled off to the bathroom and spare bedroom respectively to change. "That means us too, love," Charles murmured, placing a kiss behind Erik's ear, "Since we're currently sitting on your brother's bed."

Erik hummed in reply, before rolling off the coach, groaning as he stretched out his muscles. Charles watched him cross the room to switch off the TV and games console, then accepted Erik's hand to pull him to his feet. Erik, of course, took the opportunity to pull Charles into his side and kiss him.

"No sex," Charles murmured between kisses.

"Spoilsport," Erik replied.

They broke apart when they heard Peter return, wishing him a good night and pausing to lean into the spare room to say good night to Wanda.

Once ensconced in their own room, they went through their own preparations for bed, then sat reading for a while, Charles tucked under Erik's arm.

"You're going to miss them when they go," Charles stated.

Erik hummed without looking up from his Scandi crime thriller.

"I'm going to miss them too," Charles added, and Erik's arm tightened around his shoulders. "It's... It's like looking into the future," he continued. "Or at least, what I hope the future looks like. Only instead of your siblings, it'll be our children."

Erik's reading stalled. Then he turned and buried his face into Charles' shoulder.

"God, I hope so," he whispered, his voice reverberating against Charles' back.

X

All too soon, the twins' fortnight-long stay came to an end and Erik and Charles stood in the departures lounge of JFK trying their hardest to stay strong. Because the twins were minors, they'd been allowed to go through security with them to the gate. But now the plane was boarding, which meant it was time to say goodbye.

"Come here," Charles murmured, pulling Wanda into his arms. The girl who kept such a tight lock on her emotions looked ready to burst into tears at any moment. He kissed her temple once, then twice and squeezed her tightly. "Have a safe journey home. It's been wonderful having you here, and you are welcome back here whenever you want."

"Thanks Charles," Wanda replied, her already thick voice muffled against his shoulder. "It was awesome to finally meet you in person."

"And you darling," he agreed. He gave her one final kiss, then released her so he could swap with Erik who'd spoken to Peter in German for the entirety of their embrace. The twins shifted places, Wanda falling straight into her brother's arms while Peter faced Charles. Peter offered his hand and Charles smiled. "Sorry Peter, you're not getting away with that," he said, pulling the boy into a hug. "I love the hair," he added into Peter's silver locks. "And if your mother's mad, just remember: it's all Erik's fault."

Peter chuckled.

"Thanks for everything man," he said.

Charles gripped Peter's shoulders so he could look him in the eye.

"Anytime."

Then there was just enough time for Erik to pull both twins in for a final hug and kiss to their foreheads, before they were waving at them as they walked towards the airplane. Charles leaned into Erik's side, brushing a kiss along Erik's clenched jaw.

"Come on," he murmured. "I'll drive you home."

As he pulled the car onto the freeway, Erik spoke up.

"Charles?"

"Yes, love?"

"I miss them."

"Me too darling. Me too."