Perfection in the Picture
Summary: It was Saturday morning and here Erik was, lying in bed with too many unanswered questions. Why did the kids mean so much to Charles? Didn't Charles already have a family? Why was Charles really making them go through with this? And how did they end up fucking again? Would Charles really manipulate him into bed to get a group photo?
Pairing(s): Charles/Erik with possible hints of Hank/Raven
A/N: Written for prompt on the "1st Class Kink" meme & updated simultaneously; I was really trying to write a short one-shot, but by the time my ideas slowed down the gang had gone through half a roll of film. Sorry if it's a total fail - I don't come from a huge, shenanigan-prone family like the X-Men.
Erik woke up alone in Charles's bed with a splitting headache.
Well this is interesting, he mused, rolling over to take up more space. The sheets on the other half were cool, smooth. Charles had been awake and gone for a while now. To say this was how Erik wanted to start his already stress-filled day would have been a blatant lie. He only hoped once he caught up to Charles the younger man wouldn't be a complete basket case.
The ordeal had started Thursday night after the CIA board meeting about Shaw, when Moira had been escorting them back to check up on the new recruits, the "kids," as Charles was already calling them.
"…And since the forces aren't cleared to leave for the USSR until Sunday," Moira was saying when Erik's mind finally stopped wandering, when he stopped imagining Shaw's imminent capture (and torture) at his hand, "I was wondering what your plans were for Friday or Saturday?"
Erik rolled his eyes and fell back a few paces. Of course she was asking Charles out in a time of crisis. Charles seemed to have that effect on people.
"Nothing," Charles replied, "why do you ask?"
"The CIA is putting together files on the mutants and they asked me to get photographs of everyone for inclusion," Moira said. "I know, I tried to tell them how invasive that was of your privacy but –"
"One file or many separate files?" Charles interrupted.
Moira blinked a few times in shock before responding. "Right now it's just one big file on all the mutants. There aren't enough of you to warrant an entire filing section."
"Excellent!" Charles bubbled. "Since it's for one file, we can take one photo. I was just thinking it would be nice if we could take one a big group picture, sort of a family photo opportunity, with all the kids."
"Um," Moira said, "I don't think that's quite what my supers had in mind."
"Did they specify what they had in mind?" Charles challenged.
"Well, no, but –" Moira sighed. "Fine, but I want no part of this."
"Besides taking it for us," Charles added, causing the American agent to glare at him.
Erik opened his mouth, prepared to opt out along with Moira, but caught the way Charles was now staring at him, an ungodly amount of love and hope shining in his blue eyes.
It wasn't a secret that Charles and Erik admired each other - as intellectuals, as mutants, and (as much as Erik tried to deny it) as lovers. Hell, the CIA had even given them a shared room (albeit with two beds) separate from the new recruits. It bothered Erik that people assumed he and Charles were more than colleagues, but they assumed correctly.
His first night at the CIA base, after Charles had talked him out of leaving, they had slept together. It had been fast, rough, and hazy but memorable enough to leave Erik wanting more.
There had been several more memorable incidents on their mutant-finding road trip, both men swearing it meant nothing. Erik knew it wasn't love, but if he wasn't careful it could very well end up there.
Erik simply nodded, and Charles beamed back. "Brilliant!" he said, and the discussion was dropped.
The subject was broached again that night during their third game of chess, after both men had sufficiently cooled off after finding the "children" goofing off and intentionally destroying CIA property.
"Really Charles," Erik said, causing the young professor to look up from the black and white board. "I can't understand why you want this photo so badly. Save for Raven, these kids have been a part of your life for less than a week," he reasoned, wincing at how paternal he was starting to sound.
Charles turned his gaze back to the game, brow furrowed in concentration. "I was thinking of starting a school for mutants once the government backs off a bit. I thought it would be neat to have an inaugural portrait, some way to commemorate the first class if things work out." He looked up at Erik with a frown. "Why, are you not in favor of this idea?"
"Of course not," Erik lied, swirling the contents of his scotch tumbler and forgetting to ask Charles which idea he's currently talking about. "I'm just afraid Moira doesn't seem too keen on the idea."
"Moira is just upset she didn't get a nickname," Charles quipped. "Now, if you're in a betting mood – which I sense you are – might I wager that the loser of this next game has to tell the others about Saturday's photo shoot?"
Erik smirked. "Against my better judgment, I accept your challenge."
Friday morning found Erik in the living room facing six stricken teens.
"Talk about cruel and unusual punishment," Armando muttered after Erik finished outlining the plans for Saturday.
Angel stared at him with wounded doe eyes. "Look, we know we messed up last night, but –"
"Can't you talk to Charles, try to make him change his mind?" Raven pleaded.
"Yes, please get us out of this," Alex seconded.
Erik raised an eyebrow mockingly. "And why would I do that when I get such pleasure watching you kids squirm?"
"If it helps, we consider you the cool dad," Sean chimed in.
"And it is almost June," Hank reasoned.
"You WILL listen to your mother, children." Erik commanded with as straight a face as he could muster. "And I expect nothing but your best behavior tomorrow. I will not have you ruining this for Charles."
Armando and Sean snickered. "You lo-ove each other," one of them sing-songed quietly.
"I heard that," Erik growled.
"And if we don't listen to you or Charles?" Angel asked, her chin jutting out defiantly.
Raven turned to the other girl, her eyes narrowed knowingly. "Don't think he's not above brain-washing us all to do it. Or worse – he could guilt as all into doing it."
Of course, Erik made him promise he wouldn't use his control over the kids that night during their chess game.
Charles pretended to consider his friend's request before replying. "Fine, but only if you make them promise not to use their powers either."
Erik let out a frustrated sigh and dropped his head into his hands. "They're your kids," he grumbled half-heartedly, rubbing his temples in an attempt to ward off his impending headache.
"And they'll be leaving soon," Charles said, a small, sad smile playing on his lips.
Erik's eyes snapped up to study the other man. "How do you know?"
Charles smirked and tapped his forehead. "Mind reader, remember? Look, I know you think this is all a bit ridiculous, but just bear with me, Erik. I want to take this opportunity to show the students how much they mean to me."
Smiling slightly, Erik looked up, prepared to tease Charles for his sentimental nature. Instead he found the young professor leaning across the chess board, his face mere inches from Erik's.
"I want to show you how much you mean to me," Charles continued, his voice barely a whisper, before bracing his hands on Erik's knees and closing the distance between their lips.
It's only a kiss, Erik told himself as he pulled Charles onto his lap; in response Charles moaned, his tongue entering Erik's mouth. Fighting to maintain control of the situation, Erik drew back and bit Charles's lower lip. With a yelp, the smaller man jerked forward, causing their foreheads to knock together.
Panting, Erik looked up into Charles's lust-filled eyes then carefully brushed a piece of hair away from his face. The kissing resumed, more heated than before, and led to biting and touching and the removal of clothes (Erik remembers losing his belt rather quickly), which led to Erik's current predicament. Mentally, he kicked himself for letting Charles distract him like that.
He sighed again. It was Saturday morning and here Erik was, lying in bed with too many unanswered questions. Why did the kids mean so much to Charles? Erik thought of Raven – didn't Charles already have a family? Why was Charles really making them go through with this? And how did they end up fucking again? Would Charles really manipulate him into bed to get a group photo?
Erik groaned, sitting up to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. Whatever his numerous faults were, Erik sincerely doubted Shaw made the Hellfire Club pose for family portraits.
To be continued...