Takes place during the first X-men movie – the scene right at the beginning where Charles calls after Erik in that white hallway and they have a "Don't give up on humans, Erik" / "Don't get in my way, Charles" conversation.
Erik tapped himself on the head slowly. "Sneaking around in here again, Charles?" He could feel him spying, poking around, looking for something. The intrusion was much gentler and more refined than the telepathy Erik remembered; in the early days of helping Charles explore his gift he had endured splitting headaches every time Charles tried to dig beneath the surface.
Curiosity and appreciation of skill kept him still a moment, but still this was intrusion. He felt an overpowering desire to turn the tables.
So, he spun on his heel and raised his arm, bringing Charles's wheelchair three feet up into the air.
"Stop," Charles gasped, clutching at his armrests with both hands. "My intentions were benign. I only w-"
"As are mine." Erik interrupted with a smile. "I will put you down unharmed, as soon as you're through."
He waited a moment, but the alien presence in his mind stayed right where it was. "Well?" he asked aloud, and tilted the chair carefully backwards until it was almost horizontal.
"Erik, if I withdraw in a panic I'll hurt you." Charles's voice was not quite steady, but it was a good effort. "Set me down so that I can do it more gently. Please. You've made your point."
Erik wanted to feel exasperated, but despite himself he was a little touched. He righted the chair and set it down slowly, grumbling, "For heaven's sake you know I can take it. And that this time I deserved it, for a change." He gave the chair one last meticulous twitch to set the wheels perfectly straight again.
Once on solid ground Charles relaxed and closed his eyes. His mental retreat was so smooth it was almost imperceptible, but afterwards he opened up to give a very piercing look. "And? A lot of people deserve a lot of things I'm not going to give them. It's not my place."
Charles sounded worse than a professor now; he had practically become a monk. Where was the man who had first pointed out that power over metal could be used to undo people's zippers and bra clasps? He sighed. "Your pacifism has become excessive, Charles."
Charles didn't give an inch. "It's a counterweight to the antagonism I see in others," he said, cool and stiff. "Which I'm afraid has also become excessive."
"Others meaning me?"
And his look of reproach had grown much more effective over the years. "Now who is asking questions to which he already knows the answer?"
As a telepath Charles could no doubt sense his forceful swell of disappointment and, yes, the beginnings of an anger brewing. But still Erik said: "Be well, old friend," before he left, and he hoped that Charles could tell he meant it.
The End.
Thank you guys for all the positive feedback! These little scenes are fun to write, so if you have ideas for ones you'd like to see, let me know.