Takes place during First Class, when they're all at the mansion practicing with their powers.
Charles and Erik were standing and having a quiet drink together when all of a sudden, with no warning, Charles's belt unbuckled itself and attacked him.
It moved fast; it had slithered through its loops and up his body before he even realized what was going on; he tried to grab it but before he could it had tightened itself around his neck.
"Erik what are you- kkch." It choked him so hard he couldn't speak, and he reached up to try and pry it loose with his hands.
"I have been practicing," Erik was saying calmly. He still held his drink in one hand; with his other he beckoned and the belt grew tighter still. "How about you? It seems that everyone has been training, except you. Everyone has been expanding his powers, weaponizing his gifts… except you. Now it's your turn."
Charles managed to wedge his fingers in but still couldn't win much slack – Erik had a lot of strength, and was using it. He glared through watering eyes at the metal trim on his belt and cursed himself for wearing it.
A pen hit him in the nose and he flinched. "Your gift is not fantastic finger-strength," Erik reminded. "It is telepathy. Use it. Influence me to stop – if you can."
Charles was pulling hard for air and only managing the barest trickle. "I can't," he wheezed. "All right - wait." He stumbled to a chair and collapsed into it, trying to calm himself enough to work. He raised one hand to his temple, a gesture that usually helped him focus… but his head was buzzing and he couldn't breathe and all of a sudden a wave of primal panic swept him away. "Erik!" he rasped, giving up on telepathy and just clawing at the belt with both hands.
When he woke up he was lying flat on the couch. His belt was back in his pants, but now it was like having a snake sitting around his waist and so he yanked it off frantically and threw it across the room.
A chuckle from by the window. "Half of what you're wearing's got metal in it," Erik informed him. "Do you plan on stripping naked?"
"Go to hell." He touched his neck, almost panting with anger and remembered fear. "Erik, you choked me unconscious."
"Mm. Sorry about that; I really thought you'd come through at the last second. Are you all right?"
"I cannot believe you just did that."
Erik had not the slightest sympathy. "Your powers are not much good if you can only use them with your enemy's cooperation. You have to learn to work under stress, under surprise, fear, all kinds of physical and emotional conditions."
"All kinds of conditions," he repeated, still rubbing his neck. "So what next, you're going to attack me while I'm laughing?"
"Perhaps. Or when you're drunk or when you've just woken up. All kinds of conditions." He flicked his fingers, and in the silence of the room they could both hear a zipper opening.
"Erik!" He grabbed for his pants in panic and zipped them up again.
Erik took another sip of his drink. "All kinds."
The End.
Like I said… almost innocent. Heh.
Actually, this one gave me an idea for one that is decidedly *not* innocent. It's not slash, though. It's just Erik by himself, experimenting with his powers. And, uh, the experiment goes somewhat awry...
Let me know what you think so far! I'm superduperdelighted when you post comments.