The minute Erik had met Charles, he hadn't been particularly enthused by him. Charles was one of those people who woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed at the ass crack of dawn, smiled too easily and too brightly, saw kittens and rainbows and sunshine in the direst of situations. Their opinion on almost everything was antithetical, especially when it came to politics. Even when his telepathy had him locked in their shared apartment with migraines, he was still using that time to bake cookies for the mutant kids at the rec center and make Erik deliver them.
Charles was a glass-half-full kind of guy, Erik's exact opposite. He had hated him on principle upon meeting him. He would've disassociated from him altogether if they weren't roommates. Charles was more than good for rent and half the utilities though and living with him got Erik larger accommodations on account of the wheelchair.
It also meant he felt like a bit of a maid since Charles, even though a whiz when it came to patisserie, couldn't cook to save his life. He seemed incapable of keeping an area clean for more than a few hours, expecting someone to clean up behind him thanks to his childhood spent waited on hand and foot. His organization of his bookshelves made Erik want to burn every book he owned in retaliation. His cat was a menace who inherited his owner's cuddly personality and got his dander trapped in Erik's pillow and hair when he kept sneaking in his room at night. He invited his inane and boring friends over, who obviously didn't care for Erik, but would put on some fake song and dance of civility. Except for Moira. Weak and human though she was, she never showed any fear of Erik or backed down from an argument, which he could respect. That was more than could be said for the rest of the rabble Charles associated with. By and large, he proved more of a bother in his life.
He did, however, possess an uncanny ability to wear people down. A secondary mutation perhaps, and at some point, Erik began to find his annoying qualities endearing. It was all downhill from there. Now, if Azazel or Angel or anyone else so much as scowled at his sunny disposition, they'd have to answer to Erik and the metal projectiles he always carried on his person.
Still, as much as he loved his boyfriend of one year, he was not enthused to meet his family. He could only imagine what kind of perpetually delighted people produced Charles. The idea of having to sit with that wall of positivity even for just an hour was unbearable. Charles didn't talk much about his family besides his father who died when he was ten. From Charles' descriptions, he had Brian Xavier to thank for his boyfriend being the way he was. He had no qualms about visiting the man's grave with Charles, he'd done that enough times, having to contend with living, breathing people was another matter entirely.
Other than their general temperaments, they were also insanely wealthy. He worked for Tony Stark, so he wasn't poor himself, but they possessed a different kind of wealth. They reeked of old money and influence ill-gotten from the days of colonialism and imperialism. Theirs was the kind of wealth that deluded people into believing they were elevated above the rest of the common people, made them unable to see life for what it truly was. He sometimes ran into that trouble with Charles, who was naïve about mutant politics and the way the world worked because he had been exposed to so little of it. Charles, at least, had the unfortunate benefit of personal tragedy to help bring him back down and when he got a little too arrogant, Erik was there to knock some sense back into him. Charles went out and got an education off the back of his own intelligence and became the youngest tenured professor at Columbia University based on merit, not money or influence (though those didn't hurt his chances). The rest of his family worked within the pharmaceutical empire that the Xavier-Marko family owned. They weren't in their position because they were qualified to do that job but because they inherited it.
Erik's preconceived notions about Charles' family was not something he kept close to the vest. He never got much of a response besides a small smile or a comment about how Erik met Raven and didn't hate her. That should've been his first clue that he was missing something. The way Charles had proposed the dinner was also a massive sign that went over his head.
"You want me to have dinner with your family," he had clarified, not looking away from his work.
Being a structural engineer on a Stark project was trying at the best of times without Tony's random, near unfeasible, notes. Somehow the man had it in his head that just because Erik was a magnokinetic, physics didn't apply to the buildings he helped to erect. He would've abandoned him by now if he wasn't Charles' friend and didn't pay Erik way more than he needed to.
"I do."
"In the giant monstrosity upstate that you called home?"
"You say it like I'm lying about that, but yes."
"I think I'll be physically ill if I have to endure that much frivolous opulence for any extended period of time."
Charles had rolled his eyes.
"You spend an obscene amount of money retrofitting our apartment with metal just so you can be lazy and not lift a teacup on your own."
"It's for my protection as well as yours, not just convenience. Plus, it helps with controlling my fine motor skills."
"Sure," Charles had responded dubiously.
"Either way, it's a lot different from living in a castle."
"It's not a castle, it's a mansion."
"Of course, my apologies. I'm not worldly enough to know the difference."
"Erik…"
Charles wheeled closer to him, reached over and took his hand away from the building sketches he was modifying.
"I need to go to this dinner for my sister's sake. She's bringing her girlfriend to meet everyone."
"Don't your parents already know she's bisexual?"
"They do. They don't care about that. Raven can be something of a powder keg with my family and vice versa. I want to be there to support her and I'd like it if you were with me. Just this one night, I promise. Then you never have to see them again if you don't want to."
Erik didn't want to. He only knew Raven in passing, had met her just a few times, but she seemed not as annoying as he had feared she would be. She had a weird reaction to Charles' telepathy which didn't sit right with him, but she was down-to-earth and even she complained about Charles' constant peppy attitude. Maybe he was just an aberration in an otherwise normal family. An abhorrently rich family but a normal one nonetheless so however reluctantly, he agreed to the dinner.
Now, here he was, standing outside next to Charles, glaring up at Westchester Manor.
"I'm aware of your hatred of ostentatiousness, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't destroy the place. I do have plans for it once it passes to my ownership, you know," Charles commented, fixing his cufflinks.
"Somehow it looks bigger than when I first saw it."
"Mother will be glad to hear it."
An elderly butler opened the door when Erik used the ancient looking knocker. He smiled warmly at Charles, who returned the gesture.
"Algernon, so good to see you."
Erik barely restrained an eyeroll.
Algernon? Honestly?
"Master Charles, it's been much too long."
The butler spoke with such a stereotypical English accent that Erik could not contain the snort that left him, drawing attention to him.
"Ah, this must be your Master Lehnsherr."
"Yes, this is him. Erik, this is Algernon. He had the misfortune of putting up with me as a child."
"Hardly a misfortune. An inconvenience at times perhaps. You were so easy about getting underfoot."
"When I could still use them, yes," Charles replied, a dimmer smile on his lips.
His paralysis was one of the only subjects that he might see with a glass-quarter-full perspective, not able to be totally negative even about that.
"I know you too well to believe that wheelchair has made you any less of a busybody, sir."
Charles and Algernon shared another smile as they entered the house, Erik having to lift Charles' wheelchair over the threshold. He had been in the chair for nearing a decade, one would think his family would've made the house more accessible.
Algernon took their coats, handed it to another servant and began leading them towards the dining room.
"I must warn you, Mistress Sharon is a bit in her cups."
"Right," Charles responded, an odd note to his voice.
"One last thing. I do know you are Jewish, Master Lehnsherr. I've taken the liberty of having the chefs prepare your food separately."
Erik quirked a brow in surprise.
"Did you tell him to…?" Erik inquired of Charles telepathically.
"I told him you're Jewish during our weekly chats, but I didn't make any special requests. That was all Al," Charles responded, a tone of warmth when discussing the old man.
"I'm not the best at keeping kosher, but I appreciate the thought."
The man gave a small bow before opening the doors and announcing them.
Erik only visited this house once before and did not go beyond the foyer, but the dining room was exactly as he suspected. Porcelain china, old silverware, mahogany furniture and fine-tailored rugs with a grandfather clock ticking away. Soft piano music was coming from somewhere and at the table sat five individuals.
He already knew Raven, her blue form swathed in a white evening dress. Next to her sat a vaguely familiar brunette woman in blue, her sightless eyes staring straight ahead. Across from the two women was a tall, broad-shouldered man with an auburn beard not quite managing to hide the sneer on his lips. At either end of the table were who Erik assumed were Charles' parents. The elder man was tall as well, strapping but not quite as much as the younger. His gray hair was slicked back severely, matching the look upon his face. Erik rather thought he looked like a Bond villain. The woman at the other end of the table had the same blue eyes as Charles though nowhere near as open and inviting. She was blonde with streaks of silver cutting through the golden locks periodically. Her eyes were hooded in the way Charles' got when they spent too long at the bar, her delicate fingers wrapped around a glass of wine.
"There they are, finally. Can we eat now," the large man complained gruffly.
"We will introduce ourselves first, Cain. Have your manners and wits about you," the man who he assumed was Charles' stepfather said as he stood up and turned to look at the two.
"Welcome to my home. I am Kurt Marko, Sharon's husband."
He looked Erik up and down which he ordinarily wouldn't have found strange given the occasion. He didn't know what Charles had told his family about him. Raven had been a little surprised when they met and spoke. Apparently, he was quite a departure from Charles' usual partners. Not that that was hard to believe considering the one-night-stands Erik was subjected to in the beginning of their acquaintanceship. However, there was a coldness in the man's eyes that set Erik on edge. And there was the way he introduced himself, claiming ownership of what was to be Charles' house when his mother died, not calling himself Charles' stepfather but his mother's husband, adding a degree of separation between them.
"What's his problem," he asked Charles, but he didn't answer him.
"Erik Lehnsherr, I presume," he greeted, mispronouncing his last name.
Something told him that was purposeful.
"Lehnsherr."
"Of course. It's ever so nice of Charlie to bring you around. Might as well get these kinds of meetings for his liaisons out of the way, given their frequency in times past."
Erik narrowed his eyes at the minimalizing of their relationship, the sly remark about Charles and the use of the nickname 'Charlie'. Charles despised it, though now he knew why. He made to respond but felt the restraining force of telepathic tendrils in his head.
"Please don't."
He glanced down at him. His face was blank, but his tone psionically was plaintive.
"Just let it go. It's nothing worse than what I've heard before."
"Is that meant to be better?"
"Erik, I'm fine. Please, just leave it."
"You say that and then complain when he doesn't introduce us to anyone," Charles' mother commented, breaking the tension.
Her voice didn't betray that she particularly cared about the conversation one way or the other, but he was glad someone was speaking up, seemingly in Charles' defense.
"Meeting his companions doesn't mean he should drag anything off the street in here as he's done before. That Christian Frost I could tolerate. At least I knew his father came from secure and tested means, much of a silly fool the boy was. But Warren Worthington? He was as much of a vainglorious upstart as his father before him. Talking large about a fortune barely older than me."
It wasn't their sexuality or their genotype making the difference here, Erik realized, it was money that this was coming down to. How bloody typical of these people.
"Erik isn't anyone off the streets. He works for Stark Industries actually," Charles defended.
Erik would've rather he had said nothing. They could think him a pauper living in a gutter for all he cared. He had nothing to prove to them.
"Peculiar man," Kurt responded before waving at the table.
"This is my son, Cain. My wife, Sharon. I believe you've met my stepdaughter. This is her paramour, Irene Adler."
"Paramour? You make it sound so clandestine. We're not escorts, we're girlfriends," Raven deadpanned, rolling her eyes.
"I guess we can discuss prostitutes at the table now. Good to know," Cain snorted.
"Enough," Kurt snapped at him, causing the man to straighten up.
"Please sit. We can begin sharing the food."
Erik glanced down at Charles again. He was unusually quiet. He so often lit up a room the moment he entered, taking charge and making his presence known. He would hate to admit it, but he liked the spotlight and the spotlight liked him back. Now, he looked ready to melt into the carpet. It was strange.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes. Don't worry about me."
He sat down between Cain and Charles in the only empty seat. There was barely enough space allocated for Charles' wheelchair to fit between Erik's seat and Sharon's, so he was forced to move his chair closer to Charles' stepbrother, who gave him a displeased sneer in response. Erik gave him a dead-eyed glare and the two were locked in a battle of wills until the doors opened and people filtered in with their appetizers.
The servants were perfunctory and efficient, setting things down and taking things away. What caught Erik's attention more was how utterly oblivious to their presence the family appeared to be, carrying on their conversation as if the food appeared out of thin air. Even Raven and Charles were barely aware of them. Only Irene and Erik thanked them. He would've shot her a look of commiseration if she could see it.
"You look well, Mother. Navy always agrees with you," Charles commented after a while of utensils scraping against their plates. His voice was more timid than Erik had ever heard it.
Sharon glanced in Charles' general direction, though her eyes weren't quite focused enough for him to say she was truly taking him in.
"You haven't been skipping meals, have you, dear?"
If Erik's mother had said those words, they would've been out of genuine concern that he wasn't eating enough. Coming out of Sharon's mouth, it was clear she meant the opposite.
"I'm not that bad, surely. I go to the gym with Erik, so…"
Cain scoffed in reply.
"And do what? Watch?"
"There are plenty of exercises for people in wheelchairs. Charles is nothing if not fit and active. I would know," Erik retorted.
The man in question blushed while Raven choked indiscreetly on her wine, prompting Irene to pat her back as Cain gave Erik a disgusted glare.
"You were always heavier than was visually pleasing, but you look like you've been gaining a lot recently. Do you expect you'll keep a man if you continue to let yourself go? You can't stuff your mouth with all and sundry. Not while you're in that infernal contraption," Sharon continued like no one had spoken at all.
Charles' face dimmed at that and Erik felt any hope that his mother wasn't awful die as quickly as it came, especially when Charles pushed his meager plate of food away from himself and took a healthy sip of his brandy.
"I'm sure he's eating a lot of bratwurst lately," Cain derided.
"You will not allude to such filth at the table," Kurt ordered.
"What do you think Charles' boytoy was doing?"
"You were raised better."
The implication that Erik wasn't didn't go over his head. He was just plotting the two men's murders in his head when Sharon addressed him directly.
"Where did Charles find you, Erik? I've been trying to remember if I know any Lehnsherrs, but I've been coming up blank."
He gritted his teeth, not endeared to the woman after her snide comments about Charles. The man in question shot him a calming look out of the corner of his eye, so Erik swallowed the rude remark he wished to make.
"You wouldn't hear about my family in your circles."
"Oh? What is it your family does?"
"My sister is an artist of some renown. She's had a few galleries and her work showcased in museums," he started off, his voice reflecting his pride in Ruthie for making it as far as she had as young as she was in that industry.
"My mother owns a deli-bakery that specializes in Jewish and German cuisine. My father works in construction."
"A day laborer?"
Erik frowned in response.
"Mother, honestly," Raven hissed.
"It's a valid question. If Charles has decided he's serious about this one, it's only fair we know what breed of people he's from," Kurt countered.
"Breed of people," Erik repeated.
"Nothing against Jews or mutants, of course. However, we expect a certain caliber of person in this family."
Erik's eye twitched.
"His father's a contractor. He has his own business. He inspired Erik to become an engineer actually," Charles clarified.
"Blue collar workers then. How quaint," Cain mumbled past his glass of whiskey.
Erik was close to snapping, he was certain of it. He could feel every ounce of metal running through the walls, could feel the utensils set out on the table. The silverware near the giant oaf's left hand shook the barest amount. It would be so easy to send a butter knife straight into the smug bastard's eye. Charles seemed to sense it as he reached out and grabbed Erik's balled fist comfortingly.
"This is feeling a lot less like us being here to support Raven and a lot more like we're here to be your family's punching bag in lieu of her and her girlfriend," Erik shot at Charles.
"I'm sorry. It's just one night. It'll be over soon," Charles soothed, taking another sip of his brandy.
Actually, everyone was drinking alcohol of varying types. The middle of the table was a veritable bar. One of the servants even wordlessly came and filled Erik and Irene's cups with nondescript wine. Erik had a feeling he was going to need it but considering he was driving, he couldn't overindulge.
"How did you two meet," Irene asked politely, cutting through the tension.
"We were roommates initially. That probably helped us get used to all the other's annoying habits. Our friendship grew from there and then we started dating," Charles explained, a genuine smile on his face for the first time.
"That's cute."
"It's nonsensical really. With their salaries, either of them could have a penthouse to themselves in the Upper West Side or Tribeca," Raven commented.
"Greenwich Village isn't exactly assisted living, Raven."
"It's cliché is what it is."
Charles rolled his eyes before turning his attention to Irene.
"Raven never told me how you two met."
"I'm a singer. She was my designer for a few shows and we hit it off."
That drew Erik's attention.
"I thought I recognized you. You're Destiny, aren't you?"
The brunette smiled a little.
"I try not to announce that. People can be weird, start giving me accolades I don't deserve."
"She's being humble. She's one of the premier mutant artists in the industry. She's paving the way for a lot of people," Raven declared, giving Irene a soft look.
"I like Dazzler's music better," Cain commented with a shrug.
Raven shot him a venomous glare.
"No one asked you, worm-for-brains."
"Raven, act like a lady."
"What, Mother? You want me to be seen and not heard, like you? No thanks."
"Raven," Charles rebuked, a frown of disapproval on his face.
She rolled her eyes while Sharon let the moment pass quietly by with a sip of her liquor, no offense or care at Raven snapping at her. Erik couldn't imagine Ruth and his mother having that exchange.
Erik watched the family's dynamic play out mostly in quiet. Sharon didn't speak much and if she said something it was some cutting comment that was met with pushback from Raven or silent resignation from Charles. Cain brooded mostly and threw out snide and inappropriate barbs at everyone, only to be chastised by his father who appeared to scare him. Kurt drove most of the conversation, inquiring into both Erik and Irene's life in a way that was simultaneously invasive yet also made clear that he wouldn't care or approve of any of their answers, not that Erik cared about that. Charles was what concerned him.
He spoke sparingly, appearing to wish he could sit stoically and quietly enough that his presence was forgotten. He didn't respond to any of his parents thinly veiled criticisms of either of them. He was not the bright, bold, annoying, optimistic man who Erik knew and loved. These people were not the unbearably bubbly, tight-knit family he had been bracing for. They were cold and acerbic, sarcastic and judgmental. He had no idea how Charles could be related to them. The closest he could see was Raven and even then, there was a lack of awareness and clarity in both the siblings about the other that bred tension between them. A different sort than existed between Charles and everyone else, but it was still there.
Even with all that, the absolute last straw didn't come until just before the main course.
"Charles, Raven was telling me about the research you do for Columbia. It sounds fascinating."
"Most people find it boring and I can start rambling where that's concerned, so apologies in advance."
"Your work benefits countless mutants, much more than my singing ever will."
"Both have merit."
"Is it true you worked on the vaccine for the Legacy Virus?"
"I credit my co-workers, Dr. MacTaggart and Dr. McCoy, with that more than myself."
"You could've gotten more notoriety for that if you had gone to Oxford like I told you to."
Charles' mood noticeably dipped at that.
"It wasn't what I wanted, Kurt."
"What's the point of paying for their new addition to the library if you weren't going to go back there to teach?"
"I didn't ask you to do that. I was perfectly fine on my own."
"Fine with the education I paid for, naturally."
Charles' eyes narrowed.
"The education my father paid for with the money he left me."
"Yes, the guilt money he left so you would forgive him for blowing his own brains out. Always so considerate, our Brian."
The comment, cruel and unnecessary, put the room on pause for the barest moment. Everyone appeared to be waiting for something but as Kurt unflinchingly took a sip of his drink like nothing was amiss, everyone else started moving again, content to let the moment pass.
Erik looked over at Charles. He had the appearance of a man whose world had just crashed down around him. Charles placed his father on a pedestal, anyone who knew him knew that. He was sure his stepfather knew it too which was probably why he had said what he did in the first place. He could feel Charles' devastation, hurt and pain through their telepathic link but also his resignation and decision to hold his tongue. That was about all he could take.
He removed the napkin he was wearing and threw it down on the table before standing abruptly. Charles gave him a pleading look, but Erik ignored it.
"Before I came to this house, I was prepared to hate everyone here because I thought you'd be insufferably virtuous and cheerful. Now, I hate you because you're just the opposite. I wondered why he wouldn't talk about you, but it's clear its because you're a cesspool of negativity. You're trying to pull him down into the murk and mire with you because you know he's a cut above you and you can't stand it. You can't stand that he's actually doing something worthwhile with his life, something that benefits others and makes a difference in the world while you're stuck in your rudderless, unimportant, trivial pursuits for wealth and power and influence all to no end because you'll always be the same worthless pieces of shit you are sitting at this table today. None of you can appreciate the intelligent, sensitive, caring man that Charles is because you're all spiteful, shallow people. The worst sort of vapid and self-centered. I don't know where he gets his hope for the world from because it wasn't any of you. It's a wonder he made it out alive with you vultures picking at him. I'll be very happy to never see any of you again for the rest of your meaningless, empty, insignificant lives," Erik declared, grabbing the back of Charles' wheelchair to move him.
He paused just at the entrance, ignoring the stunned looks on everyone's face.
"Except Raven and Irene. You're alright," he added before moving to leave entirely.
Charles was so shocked, he didn't even complain that Erik was pushing him like he couldn't do it himself. He didn't come back to himself until they were outside again.
"What did you just do?"
"What I wanted to do the moment your stepfather looked at me."
"I— you— that— I don't know what to say," he stammered as they approached Erik's car.
He stopped and glanced down at him cautiously.
"Are you mad at me? I'm not apologizing."
"You don't have to. No one's ever done anything like that for me before. It was amazing. I mean, you completely burned my bridges. There's no way I can come back here now after that while they're still alive, but it was incredible."
Charles smiled up at him, bright and sunny, the smile Erik had been missing. He couldn't help but smile back.
"It felt good to tell them off. Would've felt better to impale them with the pipes, but I don't think you'd be near as approving."
"No, I don't think so either."
Charles sighed to himself.
"I'm sorry I didn't prepare you better for all of that in there. Raven isn't exactly a good example of my family. It just seemed a bit pathetic to admit to you that I get along better with our family butler than I do my own mother."
"You're going to have to tell me the story behind that one day, liebling."
"I will. Just not tonight. Can we head home? I'd love a night in."
Erik nodded in agreement before leaning down to kiss Charles. They started for the car, but a voice stopped them.
"Hey, wait for us," Raven called, guiding Irene down the driveway.
"We're not sitting in the awkward aftermath of that tirade. You just had to throw your little tantrum before the main course and dessert. I'm expecting you to make up for it, Lehnsherr," she continued, walking straight to Erik's car without bothering to ask if she and Irene could join them or if Erik had any plans on cooking anything.
He rose an eyebrow at Charles who just shrugged in response.
"That's Raven for you."
Erik let out a long-suffering sigh.
"Now that you've met my family, I'm pretty sure yours must seem infinitely less awful in comparison."
"An enema seems less awful."
That startled a laugh out of the telepath, but he didn't disagree.
"Just so you know, I do expect to meet your family eventually," Charles told him much later as they laid in their bed together.
"After tonight, let's put off another 'meet-the-family' session for at least a year."