Two years after his best (read: only) friend found his soulmate, Erik still refuses to accept Fate's will that his own mate is out there and ready to be found. Instead, he's determined to prove to the world he doesn't need a soulmate. He doesn't want a soulmate.
Meanwhile, Charles has given up all hope of finding his soulmate, and he'd be fine with that life choice if not for all the disgustingly happy couples surrounding him.

AN: My first apology is for the rambly exposition thrown in here and there; it's hard to explain some things without it coming across pointless waffling to fill space. My second apology is for the fact this fic is unbeta'd. There shall be mistakes, they are all my fault. I've tried to catch them all and correct them, but if I've missed any, please do drop me a comment.

Erik Lehnsherr lived his life as a penitent man. He didn't take enjoyment from things that most people did; he took his coffee black, he took cold showers and dried himself with scratchy towels. He spent 18 hours of the day working, and the rest begrudgingly doing necessary human things. He'd wake up every morning at 5, slip into his gym clothes and go for a half hour run; when he returned he'd start a pot of strong coffee and go for a cold shower, standing under the freezing spray until his skin was red and stinging.

Whilst his position at Shaw Enterprises paid quite handsomely, he rarely used his money for anything superfluous. He lived in a small one-bedroom apartment in the "so-so" part of the city; it wasn't high-end but he certainly wasn't slumming it. The apartment itself was sparsely decorated, with only essential furniture; there was no TV or radio, only a laptop he used for work. He didn't want his home to be 'welcoming'; he wanted anyone who'd find themselves in his apartment to leave as quickly as possible.

Azazel was the only person who ever found himself in Erik's apartment somewhat regularly, but did his best to be in and out as soon as possible. He wasn't keen on Erik's way of living; he thought his friend was too hard on himself. He had no reason to be so self-abusive, but Azazel knew his opinions on the matter were ignored and he'd probably get himself an extra stack of work for his efforts. Azazel had learnt quickly that his role as Erik's only friend didn't give him the right to worry about him, or lecture him on his life choices.

He was especially not allowed to harass him about finding his soulmate. He didn't understand Erik's loathing of soulmates, but tried subtly to change his mind. In the beginning Erik had calmly told him to shut the fuck up about soulmates; the more Azazel carried on waxing lyrical about one day finding his soulmate Erik got more and more angry, threatening to cut his hand off, or sand the name off his arm; eventually, he adopted an air of resignation any time Azazel mentioned them, occasionally flinging pens or rubber bands at him.

Erik never understood why he agreed to spend evenings at Azazel's apartment, they always ended the same. Azazel would nag him about finding happiness, show off Janos like it'd somehow change his mind and then drink too much and drag Janos to their bedroom and have noisy sex whilst he still sat staring at the wall. He'd been great at suddenly accepting Janos into his life, but he hated being treated like the one girl in a group of friends who'd yet to be kissed. He just didn't want to find his mate, it wasn't that difficult a concept to understand. Plenty of people found happiness with people who weren't their mate, it was becoming increasingly more common, too. Erik, however, didn't want to find happiness at all. He didn't have the time or want for a relationship, he preferred being alone; had done since he was a boy.

"Such a terrible existence, being alone," Azazel frowned, his arm tensing around Janos' waist. Erik shrugged.

"I'm fine. And I've always got you two if for whatever unlikely reason I need company."

Azazel opened his mouth, cut off before he started by Erik pointing a menacing finger at him.

"You fucking dare mention the kind of easy company I'll find with my soulmate and I'll cut you!"

Janos frowned, reaching across the kitchen island to pull the block of knives out of Erik's reach. "Always, you threaten us. We just want to see you happy."

"I don't want to be happy!"

Azazel scoffed, moving back to the stove to check the progress of their meal. "You will meet your mate one day, Erik, and you will discover how empty you were before them."

Janos nodded. "Fate is against you."

Erik rolled his eyes. "I don't believe in fate."

"You should. How else would you explain how Azazel and I meet?"

"I from Russia, Janos from Mexico; without fate we wouldn't have met."

Erik rolled his eyes again. "It's got nothing to do with there being no jobs in either of your countries that brought you to the biggest city in America?"

"Please; if I'd wanted job security I would have gone to Germany. Fate brought me to New York."

Erik said nothing, not wanting to concede the point; however, Azazel took his silence as his concession and grinned.

"Maybe you have just not met your mate because you never had friends. Janos and I will help."

"No! I don't want to find my mate!"

"No, my friend, we must return the favour. After all, it is because of you we found each other."

"And I've learnt my lesson, I do all my own paperwork now."

Janos chuckled. "Accept your fate, Erik. You are destined to meet your mate, whether you like it or not. Only your untimely death will stop it."

Azazel tutted, moving over to a cupboard to pull down some plates. "Now now, my sweet, do not be giving him ideas."

"He will not kill himself," Janos smirked, going to help his lover. "He is too proud. Loves himself too much."

Erik scowled, reaching for the bottle of wine to top up his glass. "I'm right here, I can hear every word you two idiots are saying."

"See, he does not deny it," Janos grinned, pecking Azazel's cheek as he edged around him to pull out cutlery.

"I don't have to put up with this level of abuse."

"Stop being baby and go set the table," Azazel huffed, turning back to the stove. Erik huffed too, pushing himself up from the counter, helping Janos set the table whilst Azazel plated their dinner. It was the same every time Erik was over; they'd commune in the kitchen, talking over glasses of wine whilst Azazel cooked their dinner, then they'd retire to the living room and the real drinking would start. Erik rarely participated in the heavy drinking, preferring to keep a clear mind, instead drinking one or two more glasses of wine, whilst Azazel polished off one and a half bottles of vodka by himself. Erik sometimes wondered how Janos put up with his mate when he got so drunk, but judging by the way he sometimes hogged all the tequila, he assumed he didn't mind too much.

Erik hoped that if by some God awful twist of fate he did find his mate and they somehow bonded, that they'd have similar, if not matching opinions on how to behave. He couldn't be doing with an alcoholic mate, or an overly affectionate mate, or a needy mate… or a mate in general. He found it was best to just steer clear of people all together.

Charles flexed his wrist, groaning when he heard the loud click of his tendons returning to their original position. Damn his mother for making him learn calligraphy, and damn Raven for emotionally blackmailing him to write up her wedding invitations. Penning one hundred and fifty invitations didn't sound like a lot when she'd first asked, pouting her bottom lip and fluttering her eyelashes. He wished he had the ability to deny her things, especially things other people could do - he'd quite happily pay the man from the wedding fair $700 to do the invitations for her as a wedding present, but apparently that was seen as "scamming out of getting her a real present" and wasn't allowed.

He knew it was all his fault. He'd been the one to bring his sister to the university with him one day; he'd been the one to introduce her to Hank, his lovely but shy assistant; he'd been the one to urge Raven to take Hank to lunch, to try and get him to come out of his shell. He hadn't banked on them being soulmates, but they fit, and it was lovely to see them so hopelessly in love… for the first week. The week after was tiresome, and the week after that Charles found it hard to be in the same room as the couple. He'd long since given up on finding his own mate and seeing the two people he was closest to find theirs at the same time was too much for him to handle.

He bounced back quite quickly, his happiness for his sister and best friend outweighing his feelings of loneliness and despondency. He wasn't surprised when Hank came to him, telling him of his plans to marry Raven - soulmates usually married within months, even weeks of finding each other; he was, however, surprised when Hank asked for his permission to marry Raven. Charles had laughed, given him a good shake and told him he'd be insulted if he didn't marry Raven. But now he was doing most of the wedding planning. Somehow. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd found himself in that position.

"Knock knock."

Charles looked up to his office door, smiling at his sister hanging onto the doorframe. She grinned back, pulling her arm from behind her back, brandishing a small, string-tied box.

"Got you a thank you present from the café you like."

"Ooh! Is it one of Moira's perfect peanut-butter cupcakes?"

Raven pulled the string loose, opening the lid. "Better. It's four!"

Charles grinned, reaching to take the box. "Thank you, Raven. This almost makes up for the intense cramp in my wrist."

"Sorry… you know they don't have to be done until Wednesday."

"I know. But I have other things to be doing too. If I don't get them done now I'm afraid I'll put them off and you'll only have…" He quickly skimmed through the pile of already written invitations. "Forty-one people at your wedding."

Raven shrugged, digging her finger into the frosting of one of the cakes, "I can always just invite everyone via Facebook."

"Raven-"

"I know, Hank would have a conniption fit but… it'd save you all the work."

"I don't mind. Honestly."

Raven narrowed her eyes, licking the frosting from her finger. "I know you mind really, Charles. You're just too nice to say. But I promise, when you finally find your mate, and you have the most extravagant wedding of the millenia, I will fucking bend over backwards to make sure it's perfect. You'll hardly have to lift a finger."

"Thanks for the non-promise, Raven. We all know I'm not going to find my mate."

"Not with that attitude! We've got my bachelorette party next Friday, and I am going to be all over every hot guy in the hopes one of them is yours. And if that fails, when I get back off my honeymoon I'm going to take you to every party and sign you up to every website. That Erik of yours can't hide forever."

Charles groaned, hiding his face in his hand. "I knew it was a mistake letting you see my wrist."

"You know, I looked at those handwriting analysis things; this mate of yours seems like an asshole."

"No graphology analysis can determine whether someone's an asshole."

"Well, it said he's uptight and reserved and aggressive… and clearly he's avoiding you, so obviously, a-grade douchebag of the highest breed."

Charles quirked an eyebrow, his lips thinning. "And you're hoping to set me up with him?"

"Well… With your charm and overall niceness, maybe you could bring him back from the darkside? And hopefully he'll be able to instill some asshole in you. You are allowed to say no, y'know."

"Okay… I'm saying no now. To your company. I love you, but please go home to Hank, do whatever it is you two do, and let me get these invitations done."

Raven sighed, slipping from where she was perched on his desk. "Fine. See you tomorrow?"

Charles nodded, pushing out his cheek for Raven to peck before she left his office. He huffed out a long sigh, looking back down to the invitations he was to write. He wished he still had Raven's optimism about finding his mate. He was well past the usual age that soulmates found each other and had had one too many run-ins with the wrong "Erik". He hated having a mate with such a common name, and one that was clearly avoiding him as Raven suggested. Charles rarely said no to any opportunity, he knew as well as others the way fate worked, and whilst there wasn't a set point in time where mates definitively met, there were actually several points in time where they could possibly meet. Charles' mate had obviously skipped over every one of these potential meetings; Charles accepted his mate obviously didn't want to find him. It still hurt though.

He'd been so excited as a young boy the day his dark smudge had formed a name; he'd been one of the first in his class to get the name of his mate. He wore his wristband with pride, adopting the habit of rolling up his sleeves just to show it off. As he got older everyone else got their names; and as he got even older everyone he knew found their mates. At first he'd been optimistic, he had plans to go to college, his mate could be there. Once he graduated without meeting his Erik, he thought perhaps he'd find him at Columbia. The closer to 30 he got, the more his optimism waned, until he simply gave up hope.

Azazel collapsed bodily into the chair opposite Erik's desk, smirking up at his boss. Erik slowly raised his head, a scowl etched onto his face, darkening when he saw Azazel's grin.

"No."

Azazel just grinned harder. "What makes you think I was going to ask you anything?"

"I know you."

"So you know what next Friday is?"

"I know I don't care."

Azazel huffed, snatching Erik's pen from him. "It is the anniversary of the day Janos and I meet."

Erik sighed, dropping his head into his hands. "No."

"We are going out for drinks."

"I'm not coming."

"Yes you are. From now on we are taking you out more. We want you to meet your mate."

"I don't want to!"

Azazel flicked the pen back at Erik's head. "Erik, you know you have no choice."

"You know, you're the perfect example of why I never wanted friends."

"I shall take that as a compliment."

Erik groaned, rubbing his forehead as Azazel winked at him and wandered back over to his own desk. He'd hoped after their drunken conversation the previous weekend that Azazel would have forgotten about trying to drag him out to the real world to find his soulmate. Clearly not. He dreaded the prospect of finding his soulmate; he knew how fate worked, and he'd avoided it for too long - the more he avoided it, the higher the chances were of him finding his mate. He'd turned down almost every opportunity offered to him, afraid he'd meet his soulmate, but Janos had raised the point that the longer her avoided it, the more likely fate would make them meet at a Starbucks or something just as mundane.

Sighing, he tried to get back to work, forcing all thoughts of soulmates out of his mind; however, the work was too dull, allowing his mind to wander. He thought about what his mate would look like, if he'd know it was him the moment he saw him. He thought back to what Azazel and Janos had told him. Azazel had said people thought their soulmate was the most beautiful thing in the world, which was easy for him to say with a should-be underwear model for a mate; but Janos had confirmed what Azazel said. Erik was willing to trust Janos as Azazel wasn't conventionally attractive by any standards, a little intimidating if anything, with the face only a mother could love. They'd also explained the electric atmosphere around them, and the breathtaking first kiss - Erik had argued he didn't plan on kissing his soulmate.

He was jolted from his thoughts by a perfectly manicured hand snapping its fingers in front of his face.

"Lehnsherr! I've sent the lovebirds on their break, you're treating me to lunch."

Erik sighed, looking up at Emma. "I have work to do."

"Bullshit. You've been staring into space for ten minutes. Come on, I've got some advice to impart."

"I don't want-"

"I don't care what you want, you clearly need guidance, and Brangelina aren't going to help."

Erik frowned, slowly getting to his feet. "Who's-"

"I like to think Quested in Angelina."

"Surely he'd be Brad?"

"Nope. Angelina has that sultry sexyness which Azazel just doesn't have."

"Right…"

Emma smirked, hooking her arm through Erik's and led him through the office space to the elevators. They ended up at a high-end bistro, Emma shoving him into a corner booth away from the rest of the patrons for privacy.

"Straight to it," Emma huffed. "I've heard Janos talking to Azazel about you and you not wanting to find your mate."

Erik shrugged, running his finger idly around the rim of his coffee cup. "It's hardly news."

"I want to know why. And don't give me that bullshit about not wanting happiness. I don't buy it for a second."

"Well then I don't know what you want me to say."

Emma sighed, pushing up the sleeve of her pristine, white jacket. "How about, I'll tell you my story, and you trust me with yours."

Erik shrugged again.

"Right, here…" Emma slipped off her wristband and held out her arm for Erik to inspect. His eyebrows shot into his hairline when he saw the clear, unmarked skin.

"You're-"

"Yes, I'm a widow… His name was Troy. I thought I was too good for a soulmate - a bit like you - especially one with such a white-trash name like Troy. I finally met him when I was 28 - don't even attempt to start to guess my age or make jokes or I'll sign you up for a soulmate site quicker than you can blink.

"Anyway… Do you have any idea how good it feels to find your mate? You feel like nothing bad can happen, you feel like you can take on the world and win. There's honestly no better feeling.

"We were only together for a month, He owed a lot of money to the wrong people, and well…

"It hurts, Erik. Every day. Especially when the name started fading; I can still see it if I look hard enough… You think you deserve pain, that you want pain… Not like this."

Erik sighed, pointedly avoiding Emma's eyes. "I know. My father died when I was young, I still remember what it did to my mother… And it's exactly why I don't want to find my soulmate. I know I'll fall in love and I know it'll be my downfall."

Emma frowned, resting her hand over Erik's. "Erik, sugar, it'll hurt anyway. Even if you never met him, if he died now, you'd feel it. Don't deny yourself happiness because you're afraid of it hurting eventually down the line. Being alone isn't as great as it's cracked up to be… And think about him! What if your mate is trying his damned hardest to find you! Doesn't he deserve happiness?"

"I don't care. I don't want to care, that's the point! I shouldn't have to be responsible for another person! I'd rather be independent."

Emma quirked an eyebrow, slipping her wristband back on. "No you don't. You really don't."

"Look, Emma, I can't be responsible for someone else. I don't do well with people-"

"That's because you don't try! You're fine with Azazel. You adapted to Janos almost instantly. I like to think we pass for friends to onlookers who don't know better… Your soulmate is your other half. They're tailored to suit you and your needs. And by extension, their friends and family will slip into you life just as seamlessly… And trust me when I say the sex is fantastic."

Erik sighed, draining the last of his coffee. "Thank you, Emma, but no thank you."

"You're an idiot, Lehnsherr."

"I'm sure I'll live."

Emma rolled her eyes, deciding to let the matter drop. They ate quickly and quietly when their food finally arrived, hurrying back to the office.

Erik groaned upon entering his floor, noticing Janos sat on Azazel's desk, Azazel stood between his legs, hand on his thighs. "Janos, get to your own floor!"

"I have ten minutes left of my break."

Azazel smirked, pushing his fingers through his mate's hair. Erik huffed.

"Go spend it elsewhere then, where I don't have to look at the two of you."

Azazel frowned, looking to Janos and nodded. Janos smiled meekly, pressing a quick kiss to his mate's lips before slipping off the desk. Azazel followed Erik into his office, ignoring the stern glares he was receiving.

"Dinner did not go well?"

Erik's lips thinned as he lowered himself into his chair. "My private life is just that, Azazel. My-Private-Life. Could you and Janos please refrain from discussing it like it's any of your business?"

"Erik-"

"No, Azazel, just stop. I don't need Emma Frost dragging me to dinner to tell me I need to find my mate. You all just need to stop!"

Azazel nodded, knowing when not to push. "Very well, but you must do one thing."

"There's nothing I need to do, but I'll humour you."

"You find your mate, and you tell him to find happiness without you. Everyone deserves love, and if you are not going to give it to him, he needs to know. He does not deserve to be abandoned without explanation."

Erik rolled his eyes, rebooting his computer. "I'll get right on that."

"And you are still coming on Friday, if we have to drug you, so be it."

"Whatever."

Azazel sighed, marching back to his desk, slumping down in his seat. He stared at his computer monitor, glaring at his reflection, hitting the mouse to get rid of the grey time-out screen, instantly smiling at the picture of Janos that appeared. He could hear Erik in his office, slamming filing cabinets shut, dropping heavy folders onto his desk. He wondered if, perhaps, Erik's mate was better off not meeting Erik; he couldn't imagine anyone being suited to deal with him for the rest of their lives. Looking down at the paperwork stacked by his computer, Azazel started thinking. He pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly dialling Janos' number.

"Azazel."

"Janos, I need you to do me a favour."

"Yes?"

"I need you to post something, I would but Erik has blocked all soulmate sites. I will email you a scan of his signature…"