A/N: This…this is all SherlockFangirl's fault. She came up with this great idea, and then prompted me to do it. She also got me into Charles/Wesley, which I know isn't everyone's cup of tea, but the main pairing in here is going to be Charles/Erik…I think. You'll just have to read on to find out!

Also: Loosely—and I mean very loosely— based on the movie Drop Dead Fred, which SherlockFangirl totally reminded me about. I haven't seen the movie in like, ten years, but she brought me up to speed and it all came back.

For: SherlockFangirl.

Beta'd by: papercutperfect

Also, I warned above, but I'm going to warn again: Twincest will be happening. That is all.

The arm around Charles' shoulder began to tighten, pulling the smaller man in closer.

"Erik," Charles chided. He looked over to his boyfriend, the two of them on Charles' couch. "I'm trying to watch the movie."

Looking to the TV, Erik simply picked up the remote with his free hand and hit the pause button.

Thank god for DVR.

Now where was he? Erik pulled his boyfriend in again, kissing the brunet with passion; a moan escaped Charles' throat.

A snort came from the chair across from them.

Instantly, Charles broke the kiss, putting some distance between Erik and himself. "Erik, stop, we can't."

Confused, and becoming sexually frustrated, Erik gave his lover a look. "And why," he said as calmly as he could, "is that?"

Looking over to the chair by the window, Charles simply said, "because Wesley is right there!"

Erik glanced over to said chair, an unimpressed look on his face.

It was empty.

He looked to Charles again. "Charles, no one's there."

Another snort came from the man in the chair. "Really, Charles?" He cocked an eyebrow. "This is the douche bag that you're dating?"

"Wesley, be nice," Charles told the man.

Erik furrowed his brows. "You really… talk to-" here he had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes, "-your "imaginary friend"?"

"He's not imaginary! He's real!" Charles motioned once more to the chair where Wesley sat. "Can you really not see him? He looks just like me. I think we may be twins."

The man in the chair smirked. "Oh, we're twins and you know it."

"Well yes," Charles replied. "I figured that the second you came into my life, but both mother and father insisted that I was an only child. Yet here you are."

Erik…Erik couldn't take much more of this. His boyfriend was talking to a goddamn chair! "Charles, if you don't stop talking to no one, I'm going to have to reconsider this relationship all together." He didn't want to, but seriously, a chair.

Erik liked Charles, he really did. They'd been together for over a month now, and when Erik first learned about "Wesley", he'd thought maybe Charles had been trying to pull a prank on him.

Or that Charles may have been slightly mental.

Neither seemed to be the fact of the matter.

Charles insisted that Wesley was real and that he followed Charles everywhere he went, and that they'd been friends ever since Charles was ten, when Wesley just showed up in his house one night. They'd been inseparable ever since.

So yeah, Erik's put up with a lot over the past month, but this…this was crossing the line.

Wesley had cock-blocked the man for the last time, goddamn it!

Blinking at Erik with those sad doe-eyes that Erik hated (only because they made him feel these strange feelings in his chest), Charles asked, "You really mean that?"

A sigh. Erik sat back on the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Charles," he looked to the younger man. "I care about you, I really, really do, but this imaginary friend thing has gone on long enough."

"Imaginary? I'll show him 'imaginary'," Wesley said as he reached into his leather jacket, withdrawing his glock 22.

"Wesley! No!" Charles cried out in horror.

Erik looked from Charles to the empty chair. What. The serious. Hell?

"I wasn't really going to shoot him," the other brunet said, checking to see if the safety was on. It was. "Nowhere vital at least."

"Put the gun away, Wes," Charles demanded, a stern look on his face.

Whelp, that was it; Erik had seen…well heard, enough. He was out of there.

"I'm sorry, Charles," he said as he stood from the couch, looking down at the other man. "But I think I need some time to think about all-" he motioned to the empty, ugly yellow chair (Wesley flipped him the bird). "-of this."

A pause. "Whatever "this" is."

"Are…are you breaking up with me?" Charles asked, his little face even sadder than before.

"Come on, Charles," Wesley said as he sat forward more in his seat. "Let me shoot him in the foot, he doesn't need both."

Charles whipped his head back to his imaginary friend. "Wesley, no, I forbid it!" He ran a tired hand down his face and breathed deeply. "Could you just…give us a second, please?"

With a huff, Wesley sat back in his chair again. "Whatever," he muttered. "But if he 'mysteriously' gets shot in the ass on his way out, don't look at me."

"Charles," Erik said, bringing the younger man's attention away from the nothing that was across the room, and back to him. "This is what I've been talking about. There's only so much talking to people who don't exist that I can handle. It was… cute at first, but now…well, now it's gotten old."

"So you are breaking up with me, then?" Charles said, and was that a little sniffle Erik detected? God, this was getting harder and harder by the moment.

"I…" Erik looked beseechingly down at Charles; the broken hearted man's blue eyes were watering.

Wesley cocked his gun (after taking the safety off of course).

"I don't know," Erik finished lamely. He shrugged. "I just… need some time to think." He leaned down and placed a kiss to Charles' forehead. "Just…let me think for a few days, okay?" He ran a caressing hand across Charles' cheek. "Maybe do what we talked about? See a physiatrist. Maybe they'll be able to help you with your…imaginary problem."

And with that, Erik left, seeing himself to the front door.

A single tear slid down Charles' cheek, his eyes glued to the floor where Erik's feet had just been.

"He's not imaginary," he whispered.

…

A few days later.

"Yeah, okay, I understand," Charles said before saying goodbye and hanging up his phone. He looked at it sadly.

The bed dipped and Wesley snaked an arm around the other brunet's waist, pulling him close. "What did the jerk say?"

A sigh. "He's not a jerk."

Wesley just arched an eyebrow, and if eyebrows could be dubious, this one would sure as shit would be.

Charles took note of this. "Okay, okay…he may be a slight jerk."

A shoulder bumped into Charles'. "So what'd he say?"

And how soon until Wesley can shoot him? (What? Wesley likes his guns. And shooting. In particular, shooting assholes who break Charles' pretty much anyone who comes near Charles).

"He said," Charles replied with a sigh, still staring blankly down at his cell phone. "That if I go back to Dr. Watts and start taking my medication again, he may get back with me." A pause. "I guess that means we're on a break."

"Dr. Watts? You can't go back to that quack! You know what those…those pills he prescribes for you do. They make me go away!" Wesley shot his friend a hurt look, pulling away from Charles slightly to do so. "I don't want to go away, Charles." He brought their foreheads together. "You're all I've got."

Charles closed his eyes. "I know, Wes, but I'm an adult now; I need to have an adult relationship, and I really like Erik. We had a good time growing up together, you and I, but maybe now it's time to say goodbye."

His eyes opened again, only to see the utter look of betrayal on the other man's face.

"Charles." Wesley scooted away. "I-I can't believe you're saying this. After all we've been through? You're willing to just…cast me aside like a used toy? And for that…that Erik jerk?"

"Wesley," Charles started, but the man, who looked exactly identical yet still different in some aspects, cut him off.

"What about me?" He looked right at Charles. "What about us?"

Charles blinked, a little unsure what his 'twin' was getting at. "What about us?"

Reaching up, Wesley brushed a lock of chestnut hair away from Charles' forehead. The man always did keep his hair a bit shaggier and longer. "I mean," he said softly. "What about us?"

It took a moment, but then:

"Wesley!" Charles looked at his friend with a scandalous look (this only amused Wesley). "You can't mean…?"

"Oh," Wesley said as he ran his hand down Charles' cheek now, cupping his jaw. "I do."

Charles moved away completely, backing up on his small bed until his back hit the wall. "Wesley, you're my oldest friend."

A flat look. "I'm you're only friend."

"Thanks for that," Charles said with a small, sarcastic laugh.

"Come on, Charles, you can't tell me you've never once thought about it." Wesley moved closer, cornering Charles against the wall.

Looking off across the room—good god, he really needed to clean all those tea cups from his desk—Charles chewed on his bottom lip. "Well…maybe," he muttered.

A victory smile.

"But," Charles went on, the smile on Wesley's face falling. Charles glanced back at the other brunet. "I just…don't know. Wouldn't it be…weird? You and me? And what about Erik?"

Moving even closer, back to where Wesley was by Charles' side again, the gun-loving man simply said, "First off: to hell with Erik, he's no good for you anyway, and second: there's only one way to find out."

And with that, Wesley used his hand to bring Charles' face to his, their lips meeting halfway.

It started off soft, almost gentle, but then Charles fisted his hand in Wesley's white shirt and brought the leather coat-wearing man closer, turning the kiss a tad rougher.

After a moment, both men broke away, Charles panting slightly as he looked at his friend through blown pupils. "Oh my god, I can't believe that just happened."

Wesley moved his face closer again, brushing his nose against Charles' cheek as he whispered, "I'll bet Erik never kisses you like that."

Charles captured Wesley's mouth once more, because no; Erik never had kissed him like that.

After that kiss broke, Charles brought a hand to Wesley's chest, putting some space between them. He was still panting, whilst Wesley was just looking at Charles with some sort of fondness in his eyes. "Wes, please," he said. "This…this can't be right. I-I…I really want things to work out between me and Erik." Another pause. "Please. I can't have a relationship with you."

Glancing away with an irritated look on his face, Wesley said, "Is that because I'm not rea-"

"Stop," Charles cut in abruptly, giving the other man a stern look. "You are real, Wesley." His eyes cast down. "But only to me," he added. He glanced back up, meeting the same blue eyes he would if he looked in the mirror. "Only I can see and hear you, and I don't know why that is." He reached out and touched Wesley's cheek. Wesley's eyes closed. "And feel you." Wesley let out a soft breath, leaning into the touch. "But you are real, Wes, you are."

They shared one last bitter sweet kiss.

"I think I know what we need to do," Charles said, still holding Wesley's face.

The other man nodded, eyes down. "I know."

…

Charles chuckled into Erik's shoulder as the taller man lay on top of him, placing kisses all along the brunet's neck. "Erik," he breathed. This couch was way too small for the both of them.

The other man pulled back, smile large on his face, and looked down at Charles. "What? I'm just happy to see you again. It's been a long two weeks." He placed another sloppy kiss to Charles' jaw.

"Mm, I've missed you too, darling."

Erik pushed himself up, pulling the smaller man up with him until they sat on the couch properly. He ran a hand down Charles' face. "Thank you," he murmured. Charles closed his eyes and leaned into the hand.

"For what?"

"For going back to Dr. Watts, and for taking your medication." A small pause. "Is it…did it work?"

Glancing down, Charles nodded his head before bringing his eyes back up to Erik's. "Yes, he's gone."

"Good," Erik said as he dove back in, pushing Charles back down on the couch and reclaiming his lips.

They made out for a lazy minute, Charles wrapping his legs around Erik's narrow waist as the older man started to rut against him. A deep groan came from Erik. He came up for air, looking fondly down at his once-again-lover and said, "You are absolute perfection, Charles Xavier."

A snort came from the chair in the corner.

Charles' eyes whipped over to said chair, but only once Erik went back to kissing his neck. He narrowed them at its occupant.

Wesley just huffed, rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. 'That was the worst pick-up line I've ever heard.'

'Well I just so happened to have fond it quite endearing,' Charles shot back at his friend, and then moaned once Erik move his mouth lower to suck on Charles' collar bone.

Yeah, that's right; Charles had discovered that he could talk to his imaginary friend in their heads. Who knew?

Although in hindsight, he should've already known this because it's how normal people communicate with their imaginary friends.

Not that having an imaginary friend at 28 is normal, it's just that…shut up.

Erik worked his way back up to Charles' mouth, pressing his lips firmly to it as one hand traveled up the brunet's body to his cheek.

Charles whimpered.

'Hm. It would appear that the bastard's been taking kissing lessons. He seems better than the last time.'

A couch pillow was thrown across the room and Erik pulled back, head whipping over to the empty chair by the window then back to Charles, questioning look on his face. "The hell was that about?"

Sheepishly, Charles just replied, "I saw a spider."

Erik blinked at him for a moment, and then, "Did you get it?"

"No, I don't think so." Charles once again glanced hateful over to the chair. "It seems to be a stubborn little bugger. I may have to use a shoe next time."

Looking over his shoulder back to the chair, Erik said, "Maybe we should take this to your room then." He found Charles' eyes again. "You know I'm deathly afraid of spiders."

'He should be deathly afraid of this,' Wesley said to Charles as he pulled his gun out, cocking it.

Charles almost slipped up and cried out to Wesley to put his bloody gun away, how many times do I have to tell you: no firearms in the house!, but realized what a bad idea that would be. So instead, he grabbed Erik by the shirt and smashed their lips together, right before flipping Wesley the bird behind Erik's back.

Another huff came from Wesley as he put his gun away. 'You're no fun.'

'I don't care; you're not shooting my boyfriend.' Charles moaned into Erik's kiss, opening his mouth and allowing Erik's tongue to probe in.

Wesley winced. 'Jesus, it looks like he's trying to devour you. It's like a shark eating a small, helpless fish.'

This time, a book flew across the room.

What? It was right there, on the coffee table. Much closer than a shoe.

'Ow! You prick!' Came Wesley's mind voice in Charles' head, at the same time Erik pulled back again, looking across the room.

"Is the spider back?" he asked, looking to Charles again. He really, really hated spiders.

"Yes," Charles answered dryly. "And it's quite persistence, too. I think it may be taunting me."

Wesley stuck his tongue out.

"I think it's time to take this to my room, as you suggested earlier." Charles reached up and brushed a loose strand of Erik's hair from his forehead, smiling suggestively.

Breath picking up with anticipation, Erik said, "Does this mean that you're finally ready to…?"

Charles just bit his bottom lip into his mouth, head nodding.

'Oh god.' Wesley groaned into Charles' head. 'Are you really going to sleep with that douche bag?'

But instead of replying, Charles just grabbed Erik's hand and pulled him from the couch, dragging him to his bedroom. Wesley got up and followed, still heckling as he trailed behind the two horny men.

'I mean really, Charles, out of all the guys you could choose to sleep with, you choose shark face here. Have you even seen his cock yet? It could be teeny tiny.'

Pulling Erik closer to his bedroom door, Charles pushed the taller man up against the wall for one last steamy kiss. Wesley rolled his eyes.

'Seriously, shark eating a fish, this is not sexy.'

Charles dragged Erik through the door, kiss still in motion.

'I think I saw this once on the Discovery channel, during Shark Week,' Wesley said as he started to follow the two making out men into Charles' bedroom. 'There was a lot of blood involved though and-'

The door shut in Wesley's face.

Well, he never.

Staring at the door for a moment, Wesley just shrugged, then walked right through it.

Charles, who was already on the bed and still being devoured as Wesley had so tactfully put it, groaned out in frustration at the sight of his friend.

'What? Did you really think that was going to keep me out?' Wesley smiled, leaning against the door.

Erik, thinking the groan was directed his way, drew back. "What? What did I do wrong?"

"No, nothing, you did nothing wrong," Charles replied. He fisted Erik's shirt and brought him closer. "I just…I just remembered that I'm out of lube," he breathed against the older man's lips before kissing him.

During said kiss, Wesley causally strolled over to Charles' bedside table and opened the drawer, observing all the many bottles of lube that were in there. He glanced over to Charles. 'Liar.'

So bad did Charles want to scream at Wesley, but he reminded himself that that would only end with Erik leaving and him having a major case of blue balls.

'No, I'd help you with that,' Wesley told him with a wicked smirk.

'Wesley, I swear to god,' Charles said in his most angry mind-voice as he helped Erik out of his shirt. 'If you don't shut the fuck up, I really WILL start taking those pills.' They kissed again.

With the flick of his wrist, Wesley shut the drawer, walking back over to the other side of the room, where a chair—that Charles didn't remember placing there—was. He flopped down. 'Fine, I'll behave. I'll only make comments when I deem them necessary.'

Pulling out of the kiss at almost an alarming speed, Charles shot Wesley a death-look as Erik started removing the brunet's pants. 'Oh no, you will NOT be doing a running commentary during this.' A pause. 'On second thought, you're not going to be in here at all, so get out!'

'Charles,' Wesley said with his most mock-hurt mind voice. He even pouted, the bastard.

'Out!'

Erik started kissing his way up Charles' legs, distracting the brunet long enough for Wesley to lean back in his chair and watch, or well, observe. Charles reached out and grabbed for Erik's pants, unzipping them. "Your turn," he said hotly, pulling the man's jeans and boxers down all in one solid motion.

Both Charles and Wesley gasped.

'Okay, I take back what I said earlier.' Wesley stared at Erik's cock (Charles himself couldn't quite stop himself from staring as well. Hell, his damn mouth may have been open too). 'He's hung like a fucking horse!'

That last statement brought Charles out of his trance, he shook his head and shifted his eyes over to his imaginary friend, who was still sitting in that goddamn chair.

Really, where had that chair come from?

'Get out, Wesley!'

But Wesley just gave Charles a scandalous look. 'Get out? I was hoping to join in!'

Finally, a shoe flew across the room, Charles having access to one now that he and Erik were undressing. Erik's head whipped over to where the shoe landed, then back to Charles.

"Another spider?"

Charles shook his head, his breathing ragged from lust (and part annoyance). "No, I just want to get our clothes as far away as possible, because I don't plan on wearing them for a long, long time after we start this."

Erik growled before diving in for another brutal kiss.

'Can I at least wank off to this? This is actually pretty hot.' Wesley started to unzip his pants.

'I swear on all that is holy,' Charles thought as hatefully as he could, while Erik mouthed down his body. It was difficult. 'If you don't get out of this room this instant, I will insist that Erik fuck me in that very chair you're in.' Charles moaned as Erik slipped two spit slicked fingers inside.

Wesley's eyebrows waggled. 'I might like that.'

'GET OUT!'

'Okay, okay, I get it. You're not an exhibitionist. Duly noted.' Wesley thought dryly as he stood.

And then zipped back up.

'I'll just be in the other room, having a wank at your expense.' He took one last glance over to the two men on the bed. His eyebrows rose. 'Or well, Erik's at least,' he thought to Charles, watching as Erik stroked his King Kong-sized cock, getting ready to enter the eager brunet below.

The door closed just as Wesley heard Charles cry out in relief.

And he was going to act like it was because Erik was fucking him, and not because Wesley had finally left the room.

…

"So, how was it?" Wesley asked, later that night as the twins lay in bed together, a protective arm around Charles' waist. Charles rolled over to face the other man, a small smile on his lips.

"It was…good." He bit his lip. "Stung a little, if I'm to be totally honest. I've never been with someone of his size before." A pause. Charles swallowed. "I think I'm ruined now." He choked back a laugh.

A snort from Wesley. "I'll be the judge of that," he said as he pulled Charles closer. He placed a kiss to the corner of the other man's mouth, and then to his lips fully.

'Wesley,' came Charles' mind voice. He pushed his twin back. "We can't. I feel like I'd be cheating on Erik."

A rather dry looked produced itself over Wesley's face. "Charles, how can it be cheating when Erik refuses to acknowledge that I exist?"

"You don't exist," Charles pointed out.

"Ah," Wesley said with a smirk. "So then how can it be cheating?"

Charles thought about this for a moment, and then:

"Oh. You're right." He pulled his brother back into another blazing kiss.

…

"Does he fuck you like this?" Wesley asked with a raspy breath as he rolled his hips.

Charles' head tipped to the side as a needy moan left his mouth. He closed his eyes.

A hand to the jaw bought Charles' face back to meet his twin's eyes again. "Answer my question, Charles."

Swallowing, Charles let out a shaky breath— Wesley still moving inside him rhythmically— before he gasped out a broken "No."

"I didn't think so," Wesley said, and then leaned down to kiss Charles. 'Because no one knows your body better than me.'

Later, after the bed sheets had been thoroughly wrinkled and stained—for the second time that day— Charles and Wesley lay together, arms and legs tangled into one big mess as the twins faced each other. Wesley reached a hand up and brushed some of Charles' damp hair away from his eyes to see him better.

"Promise me we'll always have this."

Charles took his brother's (imaginary friend's, twin's, whatever he was) hand and brought it to his mouth, placing a kiss there. "Always."

. . . .

Epilogue.

"Hey, Charles, are you in here?" Erik called out as he opened the brunet's bedroom door. "I thought I'd drop by and surprise-"

"Erik!" Charles cried out in horror, and then pushed Wesley away, who was down by Charles' lower region and doing something quite pornographic with his mouth.

No wait, that's not right: Erik can't see Wesley. Instead, Charles pulled the covers up and over himself (as well as the now smirking man by his legs).

Turning a shade of red Charles had never seen on Erik before—come to think of it, Charles didn't think he'd ever seen Erik blush—the taller man just looked away, one hand going to the back of his neck as the other stayed glued to the door handle. "Um, sorry…I didn't think…"I'd walk in on you masturbating? Was that too blunt?

Charles, whose face was possibly redder than the red of Erik's cheeks, just pulled the covers up higher. "I…you should've called." Although really, they'd been dating for six months now, Charles should've expected Erik to just drop by whenever he pleased. Hell, they'd even been talking about moving in together.

Wesley was less than thrilled to hear about that. Threats of violence may have been made.

Speaking of Wesley, the sly little devil that he was, he decided to take this opportune moment to lick a long stripe up Charles' still rock-hard cock.

An "nmmph" sort of sound came out of Charles' mouth and it was all he could do to not kick the man under his covers, because that would just look insane to Erik. 'Stop it, stop it now.'

Erik arched an eyebrow. "Are you okay? Do you-" he smiled suggestively, "need any help?"

A growl came from under the covers, followed by the all too familiar sound of a gun being cocked.

"No," Charles cried out, not meaning for it to sound so harsh to Erik, but more towards the crazy imaginary person below his covers who now appeared to have a bloody gun. "No," Charles said again, a bit softer and more on the throaty side. "No, I think I got it from here." He managed a weak smile.

'You're darn right we got it from here.' Wesley thought matter-of-fact, and then took Charles back into his mouth.

Charles prayed he put the safety back on his gun, all while struggling not to moan.

"Are you…sure?" Erik asked dubiously, giving his boyfriend an odd look. "Because I could give you a hand…"

'Not if I shoot it off first.' Wesley thought to Charles as he opened his throat up wider and took his twin in even more. Charles had to stifle a long and loud moan, again, as his fingers dug into the bed sheets, which of course wouldn't look right to Erik, because how the hell was Charles wiggling around and moaning like a horny school girl when no one was touching him? Goddamn it Wesley!

'Wesley-' and even his mind voice was breathless in his twin's head, '-please, for the love of god just stop for two minutes before I come embarrassingly, and mysteriously, in front of my boyfriend.'

'I hate when you call him that,' Wesley growled into Charles' head. But he stopped, removing his mouth from Charles' cock and placed his cheek to his thigh. 'Let me know when the big dummy leaves, so I can reassume.'

Giving Erik the best beseeching look he could, Charles just nodded his head. "Yes, I'm sure. Don't take offense, it's just…I'm a bit embarrassed right now, with you walking in on me and all." He gave a sheepish smile. "If you don't mind, just give me a few minutes to get dressed? I'll see you in the living room in a bit."

Erik nodded his head, thankfully understanding. "Okay." He started to reclose the door, "but if you change your mind…"

"Get out!" Wesley yelled as loud as he could.

Too bad it fell on deaf ears…well, Erik's at least.

After the door closed, Charles lifted the covers and gave his imaginary friend a look, one that was accompanied by an arched eyebrow. "You do realize that he can't hear you?" he murmured.

Wesley just shrugged, and then started stroking Charles' cock again. "I know, but it still felt good to say it."

A low groan left Charles' mouth. "Speaking of feeling good, that feels wonderful. Please, don't stop."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Wesley said right before he took Charles back into his mouth. 'Brother.'

END