Five years of retirement until he finally found his source, even though it felt like it took forever to look for. Couldn't blame the guy, Erik was thinking about it ever since he first saw the boy.

Believe it or not, Erik Lehnsherr was a former professional figure skating, and has been since he was fifteen years old where he won silver at his Junior Grand Prix Competition in Toronto. He could have won gold if it weren't for thirteen year old Charles Xavier, both the prodigy and the son of coaches Sharon and Brian Xavier. He did his research, and was surprised when he found out that they were the famous skating duo for five years. They retired when Sharon became three month pregnant with Charles, and ever since the boy was interested in the sport they became his coaches, as well were strong motivation to their son.

Odd enough the both of them had similar nicknames: Charles was called the Ice Prince, and Erik was called the Ice King. One would say that the two were having some sort of a friendship duo, but no. The two were complete opposites. Charles was the Ice Prince for showing how fun and wonderful it is on ice every time he skated, while Erik was called the Ice King for showing lack of emotions whenever he was off the ice; his blank face was incapable of movement as the ice. But, despite how different they were, they were two of the well-known popular junior skaters on the rink.

No matter how many years has passed, Erik can still remember how the young teen looked like. His hair was a silky chocolate brunette with delicate waves whenever his hair was still, his skin was a sweet pale as a baby's bottom – even when the guy went pink on his cheeks, it just made him more adorable to his fans, his eyes were double bottomless pools of sapphire Erik could most likely drown in (purposely), and his lips, oh man how can those lips be so naturally red, and not actually come from lipstick or lipgloss is beyond Erik. Otherwise, the young boy was more beautiful to admire from afar than any other girl Erik saw in the past and current present.

He wondered what he looked like now as he headed up the pathway. His hair, of course, could be longer, or maybe still cut at the regular length he had when he was younger. His lips and eyes would most definitely be the same, and be more hypnotizing for him once he sees them again. What about his smile? Erik, and everyone else that knew the boy, was well aware of that dazzling smile. He gave it to his friends, fans, parents, fellow skaters, and at the end of his routine. It was a breath-taking view no one can forget... Not even Erik could forget no matter long. It was the confirmation on how he felt for the boy.

When he was first saw it close up, it was at the pedestal at the Grand Prix Competition where he won the silver. Some boy Erik honestly doesn't remember won bronze, and of course Charles won gold. As well gained a large bouquet of flowers. Erik, fifteen at the time, glanced at the sight from the corner of his eyes.

'The bouquet is almost as big as him...' He thought as a gentle pink came upon his face while holding his own large, but single, bouquet of flowers. But suddenly he blinked and felt his heart raced when he saw it: the smile, with the addition of an adorable giggle and pink blush as he slightly struggled with the bouquets as the press' cameras flashed in front of them. Even though the blank expression remained on his face as the cameras were flashing, the inside of him was actually tingling all over from the sight. 'SO CUTE!'

It was definitely his confirmation: Yup, Charles Xavier was his first love. A love he didn't deserved nor never got once the break was made. And once they got back on the ice... He didn't realized that it was the last time he ever saw that beautiful smile.

Sure, Charles smiled whenever at times, but Erik knew that it was fake. It wasn't the same smile that took his away temporary. Everyone else didn't see it, but Erik did. He would know after all; his lack of socializing, and common choices on glancing over to the blue-eyed beauty had him mentally memorized every single detail on the boy.

He changed after the break.

Along with his smile, his eyes didn't bare the same glow anymore, only dullness like dark fog covering the mythical sapphire pools that never faded away throughout the days. And one time when Charles passed by him, he noticed his face seemed odd, too –– it took minutes before realizing Charles was wearing make-up. Make-up to hide the lack of sleep, mainly the bags under his eyes. And his moves, the moves he done were still perfect and in sync...but as the days passed by, Erik noticed that the energy wasn't there, nor was the emotions to express it. A blind person wouldn't recognize it as Charles was faking it, but that person wasn't Erik. He didn't believe it at all. The guy was close to fourteen, and he was suddenly becoming a mess. But why? Why was he like this?

Why did he looked like this? Why wasn't he himself anymore? What happened? What happened to the boy he fell for last year?

He got his answer from his mother, who was cooking dinner. "His father died in a car accident during the break. He was killed instantly, and it happened only a month ago from now. He must be still mourning, and I feel so sorry for him and his mother. He was such a wonderful man."

Now that Erik thought about, he completely forgot that during his coaching Sharon was the only one there. Brian's appearance wasn't seen for days during the training. And if he paid attention more on her, he would also noticed the make-up that covered her own depression on the lost of the love of her life, the man she would have been together with until old age, the man who was suppose to be there to motivate and give support to their only son. But now that he's gone... Damn, poor Charles. He prayed internally that everything will be okay to the first competition of the first year.

It didn't go well.

Charles actually got sixth place due to lack of energy, and even falling on both his triple axel and his quadruple salchow before his toe turn could be done. Erik got second place, but he didn't care. This was the first time he focused on something other than his goal on getting the gold. He would have told the Xavier son to pull himself together, to focus on his skating, and think about his father being proud of him instead of mourning over the loss. But he wasn't his friend, he never talked to the boy, so he kept silent. And even though he didn't say a word, that doesn't mean he didn't regret.

It got worse. Once when Erik came early for practice, he didn't realize someone was already there before him on using the rink. And it was Charles, who's skating went bad. He was constantly in thought that he ended hitting the wall three times, fell on the ice whenever he did the infamous twirls or jumps, and just lacked his basic energy faster than before. And even in the dark where Erik was, he saw the red-shot eyes mixed with his now stormy blue as he tried to focus better, but just ended up in the middle and went on his knees while his face was covered by his black leather gloved hands. The sounds of sobs echoed the room, having the Xavier son believed he was entirely alone as he mourned. Erik silently left the room with unshed tears in his eyes, his heart aching over his crush.

The next day, Charles didn't come to practice.

Or the next day, or the day after, or even in the next week.

Erik guessed the boy must be taking a season off to get his mind off skating and his father's death since it was a huge total on him. This got Erik the chance to become a gold medalist, but he wasn't happy about not seeing Charles again.

Five years passed, and his determination and ways on surprising the crowd paid off on making him a five-year champion, each year gaining his own golds. His fans grew in support and admiration to the now handsome young man, as well one of the most popular figure skaters, especially getting gold at his Senior Grand Prix Competition. During the years, he really did forgot about Charles, and his small crush on him as his goal was the only thing on his mind.

But that changed when he saw the skater after him during the competition. It was a young boy, around sixteen, with blonde silky hair and baby blue eyes. Alex was his name, he remembered, and before he started the speakers mentioned something that made Erik's heart raced after so long.

'This performance is dedicated to one of Alex's inspirations when he was younger, the Ice Prince: Charles Xavier. He recalled admiring how graceful and expressive he was on the ice, and was heartbroken to find out the Xavier son had retired early.'

'That's a lie. He actually quit,' Erik thought to himself, recalling the time when his mother mentioned him again after his guess on not doing the season.

'However, he continued letting Charles' past be his motivation to his future, along with other professional skaters he admires, including the Ice King: Erik Lehnsherr.' He blushed at the mention of his name, and blushed further when he heard the fans cheered afterwards. He looked away, now interested at the wall from the corner of his eyes. 'Here is Stay with Me.'

The boy was of course performing a Sam Smith song, but Erik didn't care. It was the moves the teen did as he figure skated. The ease in twirls and jumps, the step sequence, and the emotions expressed on his face; the boy was copying parts of Charles' former routine. But he also realized that he was also copying his as well, making a mix between the Ice Prince and King.

It was...beautiful. He never seen anything like it before.

Throughout the year, with Charles being the Prince and Erik the King, he never thought of seeing the opposite sides of each other would work out. But, Alex showed it both of their styles in one, and made it beautiful. His heart raced, and his eyes widen as he concentrated on the movements Alex did, and was hypnotized from the beginning to end. And while he watched, he couldn't help but imagined himself fifteen again, along with Charles at thirteen instead of being eighteen by now. He imagined the both of them, being a skating duo instead. Love, happiness, dedication, concentration; everything they did by themselves was shown in the duet performance. And never took their eyes off each other while sharing true smiles of love. Romance love that couldn't break between them.

But darling, stay with me...

By the time it was over, Erik blinked twice when he noticed his face was wet. He raised his hand, and noticed that his cheek was wet. He was crying over the performance, he was crying over how beautiful it was.

He was internally mourning on how he lost his chance on being with Charles. And Alex's performance made him realize it five years too late.

After seeing the performance (the teen got second place, by the way) Erik just couldn't bare the thought of being on the ice again, now that Charles is back on his mind again. He had to find him, he has to help him with his skating even if he didn't want to anymore. He has to find him. He has to get Charles back on the ice again.

Social media expressed the shock from fans on Erik's sudden choice of retirement. Some accused Alex was the reason why he did, and started making death threats and negative comments –– Erik, however, assured that Alex was not the cause of it, nor was anyone else was the reason, only the idea of 'fulfilling a new goal that will make him too distracted to concentrate on the ice'. He also comment that maybe he'll come back, but he wasn't entirely sure. He'll just have to see what will happen later on.

Five years passed over, now twenty-five and finally found his source. He never expected Charles to live in such a huge place.

The location was in Westchester, New York in a town, Salem Center. What was more interesting was it was far from civilization as it was an hour from the town, and was more close to the woods that had no woodlands animals other than squirrels, birds, and a few rabbits he noticed before they hopped away.

He soon found himself in front of an large gate, slightly ajar. Using one hand, he pushed it open further at the same time heard the loud squeak from the hinges.

"Charles still lives here?" He asked himself, since the gate wasn't taken care of with oiling the squeaks away.

He wasn't sure about this, he has full doubt that Charles must be located somewhere, and Erik was just a sucker on believing that he was here... He had to be damn right the moment he saw the mansion.

If it weren't for the vines, uncut grass, and fading colors he would have keep on believing that Charles was still living in his birth home. He sighed, defeated and annoyed. "This is ridiculous. No way is he still living here. I'm going home. I'll try again tomorrow..." With annoyance on his face and his hands in his pockets, he turned back on his brown leather boots towards his red convertible at the same time glaring at the ground.

He could just come up with every single swear word he could think towards that bastard who told him he was still living here. Charles was a wonderful man, as well very smart; there's a good chance the guy moved to another area or even back to London or wherever he lived in Europe (he doesn't know the boy's past, after all) to get himself back together, abandoning the home to rot.

He stopped. 'To rot...'

From his sight of his driver's door opened, he lifted his head to return the contact back to the nature invested mansion. The last time he saw him Charles was broken. He lost his father, he lost all joy on being a skater. He could have stayed here throughout the ten years, more upset on how messed up he made himself after getting over the mourning of his father. He must be, he got to be...

Slamming the door shut, and clicking the alarm to lock it, he found himself running towards the mansion, his heart pounding for the idea that Charles was still living here, he was still in the house...and was still not himself. A new determination glowed in his green eyes before he huffed slightly, and found himself pressing the doorbell.

Realization kicked in hard. What was he doing? He wasn't Charles, he doesn't know his business! Who knows if the guy was still in the area, let alone the home? And yet, Erik continued to press the doorbell until he heard something. Anything, really, he didn't care. He had to know.

He paused the door bell when something caught his hearing. His eyes were wide, and his heart ached when he noticed the sound was coming from inside. The sound continued, but it was a new sound.

The first one seemed like a hard table, either hitting the ground or something hitting it.

The second one was, most definitely, what he expected: footsteps. Someone was inside this messed mansion.

The footsteps were getting closer, and Erik immediately moved back a couple of steps, straightening up, prepared for anyone who will answer the door. His breathing hitched when the doorknob was unlocked, and soon was turned. Green eyes glanced from the knob...straight to another pair of blue, a pair he hasn't seen so long and recognized too well.

But the owner himself was not what he expected.

"Yes?" The owner said, sounding tired and annoyed in a soft tone while glaring at Erik like he disrupted him on something. Or maybe because of the presence of the sunlight, like he hasn't seen it for a while. "What do you want?"

What the f***?

Erik was speechless. This was not what he expected. NONE of this is what he expected!

How the hell did he came from an adorable young boy to...to...this?!

As Erik expected, the guy was around twenty-three by now, as well still got his natural expectations for his skin, lips, and eyes on color when he was little. Only differences were...well, there was a lot.

For one thing, his hair grew out but was unkempt as it curtained the side of his face inches above his shoulders; below his still red cherry lips was a growing beard, not a lot but was noticeable along with the color being a tad lighter than the hair's natural color; and his eyes... That really hurt him. No glow, no emotion, no anything. It was the mask of irritation that he has now was hiding away the soul that was too broken to fix up again.

Erik was practically talking to a total stranger –– especially since he was wearing clothes that were pretty worn out, could possibly belong to a homeless guy, as well his breath slightly smelled like...Champagne? He couldn't tell, expect the fact he was most definitely drinking alcohol. He's a lot more messed up than he believed, Erik thought.

'But he's still kind of cute,' he confirmed in his mind as he continued gazing at the grown-up Charles. The said man seemed to notice, and raised an eyebrow with a scowl made. "What?" He asked, now matching the emotion in his eyes. 'So fluffy!' He thought when he glanced at both the hair and beard despite their conditions.

Erik didn't say anything for a while before blinking when he heard a sigh from Charles. "Look, whoever you are, I don't have time for this, so might as well run along, and get out of this area," he snapped, before pushing the door shut.

If he wasn't concentrated on the attitude more than his voice (which he got to say is quite smooth as butter if it was infested by his harsh emotions and drinking of alcohol), he would have let the man shut the door completely, but he quickly put his foot out of the way, creating a stop before it was yanked open, Charles now more irritated that Erik could see the vein popping on his forehead.

"You really have changed so much, Charles," Erik then said, crossing his arms. He was surprised of himself that he didn't stuttered or anything; this was officially the first time he ever talked to Charles after all. He then scoffed playfully, "And I thought I was the Ice King."

Charles opened his mouth to say something, but blinked at the last two words. It took a while before Charles functioned what he just heard, and who was talking to. "Erik... Lehnsherr?"

Erik ignored the thump from his heart while keeping his face blank. Even hearing his own name from those kissable lips could make him flutter all over like a schoolgirl on the inside. He simply nodded.

"What do you want?" He demanded. "Don't you have business else where?"

"Oh, I do. And you just so happened to be that exact business," Erik answered, softly smirking at him. Charles trailed his eyes over the guy from the bottom to up – he wore his boots, grey pants with a dark brown belt holding it up, but was hidden by his black turtleneck, along with his light brown leather jacket – before raising an eyebrow as he decided to lean against the opposite side of the door hinges. "Oh, and what would that be?" He was still sour, but Erik can hear the little piece of curiosity in it.

He took a breath, and all of the sudden Charles can see intense seriousness in his eyes despite his voice, also smooth but tender. "Starting today I plan on being your coach. You are going back on the ice, get to the Grand Prix competition, and you are going to win."

A tense silence was then created between them. Erik kept staring at Charles, his seriousness still on, while Charles was... Well, the guy was pretty much off guard and surprised by what he heard. Erik kind of expected it; he was a master of creating surprises after all. He was fighting a battle on making sure a blush didn't come his face when he realized this was also the first time he ever made eye contact with him. Not even when he was fifteen any eye contact was made between the two.

He was so caught up on his thoughts that he failed to notice Charles, still shocked, swiftly went back inside and slammed the door shut hard, which broke him from his thoughts.

That, and the "NOT A CHANCE! GO TO HELL!"

He sighed as he ran a hand over his face. This was going to be a long day.