Chapter 11- Xavier's Vices
In many ways, Charles Xavier's life was built around colossal shifts in his otherwise well ordered life. He was a reclusive philanthropist before he had met Eric Lyncher and became infected with his charisma and ideas of a unified world. He had worked tirelessly toward equality for mutants in a world of fear and prejudice, had clung to ideals that, to many, seemed foolish- even Eric had called them fairytales- but he had held out hope.
It had been exhausting and fights with Eric, steady and full of banter in the beginning, were increasing as they acquired more mutants to their cause, yet was not the same cause that Eric had first seduced him with. It had changed, mutated as new environments were introduced. The knowledge of the X gene was uncovered, people's fear of the unknown increased as did the attacks against mutants.
Eric had been livid, the scars from the Holocaust ripped open as the bodies of mutants were turned up from shallow graves. He had wanted to fight back, retaliate and show 'those humans' what mutants were capable of in comparison to their guns and bats, yet Charles still refused to succession through fear.
They had gone their separate ways soon after, Charles trapped in a newly acquired wheelchair and Eric looking to cause change through his own brand of 'progress'. Charles had never felt more useless in his life.
Then Scott had come into his life. This quiet teen from the streets, eyes closed to prevent harm from coming to those who had harmed him, so innocent and yet damaged from abuse. Many had disregarded Scott: Jean had little time then, preparing for her residency and Hank just finishing his internship-his mutation covered by a clever cloaking device, Ororo busy testing her limits in some secluded woods behind the house, Scott had barely entered his sophomore year of high school. Between the three older mutants, they were barely at the manor long enough to say hello before they were gone again.
Scott went about the manor blind for weeks before Charles had given in and called Eric to help create a device that would allow the currently silent teen to see without fear of harming anyone. Once Eric had arrived, smug from some twisted sense of triumph, it wasn't long before the Ruby Quartz eye glasses were created and Scott had smiled briefly when he opened his eyes and nothing was obliterated.
It was in that time that Eric had taken an interest in Scott's ability. He was starting to come around more, spending time with the teen, though for the most part they sat in silence playing chess. Scott could have cared less in the beginning, preferring his audio books to human contact but he really couldn't say no to the older man. Soon, Eric started filling the adolescent with the same bitterness that he held for humans, reminding him of what they had done to him when he was blinded on the streets.
It wasn't long before Scott began harboring a silent lingering hatred for those who had hurt him, it wasn't as strong as Eric would have liked, but it was all he was able to get from the teen before Charles had asked him to leave, to take his poison elsewhere. Eric had gone without complaint, but not before stating what a disappointment Scott had been in the end.
Scott had become angry at Eric for abandoning him just when he felt as though he could trust the older man, someone who had spent time and effort for what everyone had called a lost cause. Eric had cared, for a time, about Scott's well being, had provided affection where it had been so desperately needed and then just as quickly had turned and abandoned like so many others before him.
He had needed someone to hold on to, and Charles his mind swamped with plans for change and searching out mutants to help aid in his cause, had been the only one in an otherwise empty manor. Scott had come to him late one night, silent as always, a robe the only thing between his skin and the moonlight streaming in from outside. The teen had lain down next to Charles, warm and soft against his side, the slow rise and fall of his chest causing air to ghost over the older man's collar bone as Scott rested his head against the broad shoulder, whispering so quietly that the telepath had thought it was all just a dream. Then he had heard it again, this time coupled with a tentative kiss placed under his collar bone and shook Charles to the core.
"Please"
Scott's first word since he had been at the manor was Charles' undoing. The teen's fragile form pulled gently to rest atop the paralyzed man, the robe sliding down the youth's slender shoulders revealing silken skin that shone white in the moon. Charles couldn't resist the urge to touch, his hands coming to rest on the slim hips thumbs pressing into sharply defined hipbones the youth's body radiating heat into the older man's fingers. The Ruby Quartz glasses secured behind Scott's ears, the pair were soon an entangled mass of limbs desperate for contact that had been sadly remiss in both parties' lives.
Soon, Charles watched Scott as he rode the older man, a sheen of sweat glistened against his skin as he panted wantonly, his head tossed back to expose his neck in a primal need to be marked as he set a furious pace. Of course Charles, ever the gentleman, fulfilled this silently spoken request as he leant up from the waist to press kiss swollen lips to the pulse point that throbbed in the youth's swan-like neck, causing the teen to gasp and undulate faster above his mentor.
They reached their peaks together, Charles catching Scott against his chest as he collapse from the force of his orgasm, wrapping his strong arms around the child as he shivered, on the verge of tears as he tried to regain control of himself. The older mutant rocked the boy, slipping cautiously from the smaller form, gently shushing the youth in his arms as he felt a few tears fall against his chest.
Gently, so as not to dislodge Scott from his perch, Charles maneuvered the blankets up around the younger's shoulders, tucking the slim form tighter against his chest. It wasn't long til Scott was sound asleep, curled against the older mutant, features relaxed, the usual elongated almost army officer haircut released from its customary form, warm cinnamon strands curling infront of the Ruby Quartz glasses, a pale, finely boned hand resting on Charles chest. The youth was so unburdened in that moment, his age so much more apparent than in the child's wakeful hours, where he held himself with a casual rigidity that he must have picked up from his father.
The sixteen year old was an innocent in this new world, but they had made him a pawn: Eric with his bitter talk of war, the humans and their hatred, even Charles and their coupling had been another way to control the youth in some respect. Though Xavier had not intended it to happen he did not say no to the teen, whom had been looking so desperately for some connection after a father figure had abandoned him. No, instead Charles had all but encouraged the boy to sleep with him, Scott shifted closer, long legs hiked up to rest across Xavier's own useless legs before settling back down into sleep.
The guilt tore through the older man as he felt the warmth of the smaller body as it rested against him. Charles had played a role in Scott's need for contact, he had failed to guide him, in many ways he hadn't been there when he should have been, had allowed Eric to become close to the fragile teen when he knew it would only end in heartache. If anything the older mutant should have seen this coming, but he had refused to believe that it would get this far, Scott was inexperienced, reclusive, and yet an extrovert at heart, his need for human connection would have driven him to this point if not carefully monitored. Charles Xavier had failed and the evidence was lying beside him.
The next day had been filled with regret and avoidance on Charles' part, but Scott for the first time in a long while seemed, at peace. He knew that the telepath would not abandon him now without a resounding guilt scorching his conscience, Scott could breathe again. But Charles was suffocating. He cared deeply for Scott, without a doubt he was attractive, quiet, thoughtful, everything that the telepath looked for in a partner, though of course they would have been of an appropriate age. But Scott had been a mistake, no not a mistake, a miscalculation on Xavier's part; he hadn't expected the teen to develop a need for companionship as he was now exhibiting. He should have seen that coming, especially after Eric had left, the boy was lonely. But the relationship between Charles and Scott should not have gone beyond that of a mentorship, now they destinies were entwined, their individual loneliness the ties that bound them together.
There could not be a repeat of that night, no matter what happened, they could not afford to indulge such trysts. Charles needed a way out, a way to keep Scott close, but still at an appropriate distance. It was this desperate, selfish reason that led to the creation of the school for young mutants, a sanctuary for those who needed a place to go. Scott was an ambassador of sorts, silent, but a comfort to those who came from similar backgrounds. It was a perfect fit for both of them; they worked closely together for the good of the students but were not actually in close quarters anymore. It was a functioning, professional relationship, but retained an intimacy that stemmed from that night; a soft touch on the arm, or a kiss on the forehead was all Scott needed to feel loved.
Then Jean had come home from residency. She had been refused for a position at any hospital due to her psychiatric evaluation stating that she was mentally unstable. So, she had returned to the manor in disgrace. It was then in her anger and frustration that she noticed Scott, a silent, shy, supportive entity just finishing his second year of high school and she had seen her salvation. Jean had started to hound the teen after that, prodding, examining, observing, and always writing in her notebook when Scott reacted to some stimuli. She began making schematics after that, doodling of visors and suits, researching materials that were resilient against constant abuse. Then with findings in hand she had sent them with a large chunk of Ruby Quartz to a friend from college with a certain way with metals and a degree in design. A few weeks later a package came in the mail, by dinner Jean had presented them to Scott as a birthday present, their purpose evident.
Xavier had been furious. He had never wanted Scott to go on mission, no matter his age, Scott was meant to stay safe, in the manor with him. He had told the teen as much later that night, when they were completing a test with Cerebro. Scott had been thoughtful, more so than usual, nodding absently as the Professor spoke of adjustments that were being made to the X-Men's' duties and Hank's work with some government policy after finishing his internship with flying colors, but that was really nothing out of the ordinary. Charles thought his fears unfounded, Scott hated violence with a passion, he avoided the other boys when they were rowdy and read books in the library when boxing was taught in his physical education.
So to say Charles was surprised when Scott appeared at Danger Room, a place he took great lengths to avoid, dressed in the required uniform, was an understatement. But Charles couldn't say no and Scott excelled in combat so they both kept their silence and continued their lives as normally as possible.
Then again, Jean disrupted their lives, ensnaring Scott in her twisted ploy for attention, guilting the silent, fragile teen into sleeping with her, as a thank you for all that she had done for him. Of course Xavier knew when it happened; Scott couldn't look him in the eye and had taken to skipping sessions in the Danger Room to avoid him. It was difficult for the both of them and yet Charles didn't blame the teen for his infidelity, he was vulnerable to the desires of others, trying to please those around him. That was why the older mutant tried to keep him close, to perhaps save him from unnecessary hurt, but again he had failed to protect his student.
As time passed, the guilt lessened on both sides, but through mutual agreement Scott moved into the attic, away from Jean, who refused to leave Scott alone, and from the Professor. Both felt the separation immediately. Scott lost weight, spent more time in the library and his room, reading or studying for his advanced junior courses, he threw himself into his studies. Charles wasn't much better. He spent hours in meetings with Hank talking about government policy and legislature, when he wasn't with the blue mutant; Charles spent the remainder of his time in Cerebro, searching out mutants simply to observe their range of powers.
It was at this time that Charles stumbled across a very busy mutant. This mutant seemed to split its time between constant motion and then would disappear for weeks, before the repeating the cycle. The cyclical movement of the mutant was a balm to Xavier's troubled mind, the repetition was familiar, expected and harmless, he had checked the locations of the other mutant and nothing had ever turned up, it was what he needed now that Scott was submerged in his own troubles. So, the older mutant had taken to watching this strange mutant, charting movements and finding local haunts, until the mutant would disappear for a time, wiped completely from Cerebro. During those times of silence, Charles would worry, about Scott and the other mutant, he had the other labeled on Cerebro as Shadow, but he would never admit to affection for an unknown mutant.
The days the other mutant was on Cerebro were good days and Charles would watch his Shadow until Jean would call him to dinner. He would go dreading those moments of sitting in silence. Scott on his right, his current novel resting in his lap, pushing food around his plate, he rarely ate anything, but Ororo was worked with him at mealtimes, coaxing him into eating calorie rich food, but meat held little interest for him currently so it was difficult to make him gain weight. Jean would fidget in her seat, before finally settling down to eat, laughing to herself at some random thought crossing her brainwaves. Hank would be looking over that day's policy, a hi-liter in one hand, his fork in the other, muttering softly under his breath at some discrepancies from previously studied legislature.
Charles would watch the proceedings with his usual indulgent smile, they were all creatures of habit and to make them actually converse at dinner would only lead to unnecessary tension in his little family. So, he continued to sit in silence, bidding his time until he could return to Cerebro and continue to watch the Shadow flit across the states.