Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men or any Marvel characters. This is for entertainment purposes only.

The crisp, cool evening air made it the perfect night to go out. The town was filled with a bedlam of people who flooded the streets, all with the same agenda: to have a fucking good time.

It was one of the busiest nights of the week, with everyone coming out from the droves to distract themselves from their mundane, busy, stressful lives. People from CEOs to college students put on their best, as they made their way downtown to the best-ranked nightclubs in the city.

But none ranked better than Cosmopolitan, the most sought out establishment in the entire country.

Anyone who had money and clout behind their name could be seen here. The glitterati of actors, musicians, entrepreneurs, athletes, cheating politicians, you name it; they've all been here before. It was an intricate mix of sex, glamour, drugs and rock stars. The neon lights perched on top of the building were an enticing invitation, luring anyone that needed an escape in.

No matter what the pecking order, everyone was looking from the outside to get in. Regulars lit up the entire streets, drawn to the neon lights, arriving in style. And it all began on the red carpet. This was a weekly occurrence that served as a premonition of the debauchery that was to come.

The most exciting part was, anyone could've been showing up tonight. There was no famous person that hadn't stepped foot in this place. There was a line on either side, full of normal people anticipating what was considered the top of the food chain. They fought for a spot, so they could get a chance to go inside with them.

The person who was making his grand entrance? Charles Xavier.

He was no movie star or rock star, but from the way people reacted to him, he might as well have been.

Charles had a glow about him everywhere he went. His eyes were like the Bahamian sea, hypnotizing anyone who dared caught his gaze. Once he stole a glance, it was impossible to look away without drowning in those baby blues.

His chestnut hair was short, but long enough to be swiped behind his ear in a sexy way. It fell in effortless waves with each right and left tilt of his head, hitting his face softly.

His brightness gave the sun a run for its money.

He was an affluent British tycoon of noble birth, royal blood, and born with mystic powers, although nobody knew what those powers were. Filthy rich, famous, and worshipped everywhere he went.

And needless to say, he was accustomed to easy conquests.

Whenever Charles came to town, the entire city shut down. Once he was rumored to be spotted at an establishment, that's where everyone wanted to be.

They would do anything to have a taste of him.

He pulled up in his limo to the red carpet, amidst frenzied audience and paparazzi. Tonight he wore a black Chanel refracted embroidered hoodie with black skinny jeans with a latex band. It was a simple ensemble yet everyone knew it cost more than their rent.

When Charles made his way to the club entrance, it was like parting the Red Sea. He posed for a few pictures and blew kisses into the crowd, then walked through the double glass doors of the famous nightclub. Cameras flashed and highlighted his gorgeous face that would've blinded him if not for his sunglasses. The buzz was chaotic, and people stomped over each other just to be close to him.

When he got inside, Charles went straight to the bar, surrounded by his entourage.

"Heads up. Superstar coming through," Emma leaned toward Erik, nudging him with her elbow. She then turned around and pretended to clean something so as not to notice the marvel coming toward them. Erik only half heard what she said because he was distracted with a customer. When he looked where the commotion was, he nearly swallowed the gum he was chewing.

Charles was the honey surrounded by a swarm of bees. All eyes were on him once he sat down on a barstool—directly in front of Erik.

Everyone gasped, stopped and stared. All except Erik. He kept his cool. For now.

He knew all about Xavier and what he stood for, why he was really famous. And because of that, Erik couldn't have cared less about the man.

But when Charles brushed his hair away from his face, and pulled his sunglasses up, all Erik saw was electric blue eyes. Drowning him.

And a smile to die for.

"I'll have a Remy Martin," he grinned, holding his black AMEX card in between his index and middle finger. "On the rocks."

Erik swallowed hard. Charles' British accent was thick, and he was just….what was the word Erik was searching for?

It was one thing seeing him in magazines or on TV, but in person, Charles was ethereal. Erik tried to stay as neutral-faced as possible, but deep down, the attraction was instant. And he hated himself for it.

"Of course. Coming right up," he said, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It was hard to think straight with Charles just sitting there looking at him with those pretty blue eyes. And the chaos surrounding them wasn't helping either.

Get a grip, Lehnsherr.

While Erik had his back turned, Charles killed time by swiveling in his chair like a diva. Everyone freaked out at the perceived fashion shot, cameras clicking a mile a minute. His bodyguards had a bit of trouble keeping the thirsty men and women away from him. Everyone wanted a picture or just a chance to be near him. But Charles was used to that, so he just sat there, looking pretty.

Saying nothing.

"Oh my Goddddd it's Charles Xavier," a random fan managed to get past his crew and she grabbed a seat next to him. "I'm your biiiiiiigest fan. Sign my boob, please?"

"Bloody hell Raven, you do this every time." Charles pulled down the sunglasses over his eyes and swung his chair forward. "Does it never get old?"

"I can ask you the exact same thing." Her voice was deadpan, nothing how it was a few seconds ago. Without warning, Raven's form began to change. People collectively screamed when the supposed "fan" suddenly switched from a redhead to a blonde in the blink of an eye.

Charles, however, was unamused.

"I'm a shapeshifter. I would be an idiot if I didn't have fun with it sometimes."

"Doesn't really help our cause though, does it?"

"You mean your cause." Raven snorted indignantly and whistled over a bartender. "I've no interest in making friends with these...these…" she rolled her eyes.

"Humans, Raven. It's okay to say it."

"Without wanting to throw up?"

Charles sighed. He knew it was going to take a little more time with his sister.

"So," Raven wanted to change the subject before it got tense. "Who's on the menu tonight?"

Charles motioned his head toward Erik at the bar. "Eye candy at ten o' clock."

"Hmmmm…" Raven eyeballed Erik from head to toe then gave Charles an incredulous look. "I dunno. He looks kinda rough around the edges."

"I like them rough," Charles winked at her.

"Gross. I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that from my own brother."

"Well then you shouldn't have asked. Leave me to my devices and go harass someone else."

"Are you trying to break a record of how many people you can fuck?"

"It's called having fun—something you know nothing about unless you're doing it at my expense."

"Now that—" Raven threw her jacket on. "Is what never gets old."

"Raven—"

"Fine, fine. I'm leaving." Raven stood up with her drink and gave Charles a faux toast. "Good luck taming that one. I heard he's hard to get."

"No such thing." Charles smiled sardonically at his sister as she disappeared into the crowd.

He was hoping Erik didn't hear any of that as he returned with Charles' drink. "Remy Martin, served for one." He put on his best fake smile, and placed the glass in front of Charles. Erik only made eye contact for two seconds before he looked away. No matter what, Erik was not going to look this man in the face. That would be curtains for him.

But Charles quickly picked up on it and he knew better.

"Question. Do you speak to all of your customers this way? Or am I just too pretty to look at?"

Wow. Cocky too. Why did Erik think he could get away with doing that? Slowly he peeled his eyes away from the floor. "My apologies, Mr. Xavier."

"Charles. Call me Charles."

I'd love to. Over and over.

Charles covered his mouth to hide his laugh. Erik suspiciously wondered why but he knew there was no way he could've heard that….right?

It should've been nerve wracking being at the front and center of the media and paparazzi and to the average person, it probably was. Erik hated that his workplace was chosen for such a sickening display of glitz and glamour coming from one man. But at the same time, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't drawn to Charles right now. He stole every room he walked into without even saying a word. Emma and the others drooled and maybe if Erik was just as pathetic as them, he would be too.

But he wasn't.

Still. Being in the presence of this powerful man made Erik feel anxious, but he had a job to do. He couldn't just ignore everyone else, so he started taking other orders, while Charles sat and basked in the glow fitting for a star. But at the same time, his curiosity about Erik grew every second. His reaction to him wasn't something Charles was used to.

People fawned and fainted over him. Why didn't this guy?

While he was taking another customer's order, Erik was temporarily distracted. Then he nearly jumped out of his skin when someone touched his hand.

Charles...

He tripped over his words and tried to maintain his composure. Erik had to stay professional. "Is there anything else I can get for you, Mr. Xav—Charles? We do have a lounge and restaurant to your right if you wish to entertain yourself and your guests."

"I have all the entertainment I need right here," Charles purred, his voice sounding like a song in Erik's ear. He didn't seem real sometimes. "So, what's your name, handsome?"

He covered his hand over Erik's and brushed his finger across his forearm. By this time, Erik was losing his cool. This hot billionaire who could have whoever he wanted, was blatantly flirting with him in front of everybody. Erik's face burned a deep vermillion. This wasn't like him. He never allowed people to make him feel this way. Stupid little childish crushes were beneath him.

"I h-have a name tag," he stuttered, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but on Charles.

He tilted his head to the left so that Erik could see his face better. "I'd rather hear it out of the angel's mouth."

Angel. Puh. If only he knew. This guy was not a smooth talker, but his looks definitely made up for it. And it wasn't the first time someone flirted with Erik to get a free drink, but Charles was not in need of money. So what was his deal?

"So, are you going to tell me? Or am I gonna have to call you Handsome all night?"

Emma snickered in the background. She was never going to let her friend live this down. "Umm—Erik. My name is Erik."

"Okay. Well, if you're not busy later tonight, Erik Lehnsherr, I'd like to invite you to my soirée. Nothing too fancy, just a few hundred people aboard my tiny little boat. No big deal."

The way Charles said his name made Erik's eye twitch. His voice was just dripping sex appeal. And a party on his big fancy boat? Erik was almost tempted.

And how the hell did Charles know what his last name was?

Didn't matter. He didn't want to be like everyone else, falling head over heels for this guy. Erik knew Charles was used to getting what he wanted.

Well. Not this time.

But he was stuck. Charles was caressing and stroking his hand. Everyone, including Erik's coworkers was watching and to his annoyance, taking photos. This would all be on the front pages tomorrow morning. Charles then pulled out an index card and leaned his head in toward Erik's.

"That's my personal cell number," Charles whispered in his ear. It took everything in Erik to fight his urge to grab this guy. "Why don't you give me a call when you're finished here?" His eyelashes fluttered like butterflies as he winked.

And then he walked away, everyone following him like flies to a horse.

"Holy shit!" Emma exclaimed once he was gone and out of hearing range. "Charles Xavier just gave you his number, unprovoked. You realize how rare that happens?"

"Let me guess. Not very often?"

"More like never!"

It didn't take long for Erik's other coworkers—Alex, Darwin, Angel, Bobby, Azazel, Peter, and Anna Marie—to crowd around him, making such a big deal out of something that Erik considered so small.

And soon, everyone else.

"Excuse me, sir!" A reporter forced his way to the front, shoving a microphone in Erik's face. "Charles Xavier. Your thoughts?"

"You gotta be kidding me." Erik went to walk away, but the guy's next question made his blood boil.

"How do you feel about his latest speech on human and mutant integration?"

Motherfucker. Erik turned back around, menacingly piercing a hole into this stupid reporter's head. "Charles Xavier is a brownnoser whose only interest is himself."

"So then why did you just agree to go out with him?"

"I didn't—"

"You do know Xavier's history...right?"

Erik was losing his patience. "I'm not an idiot. I know he's a philanderer. I'm a grown man, no need to scandalize me." And then he walked away.

"Mr. Erik, if I could have one more comment—"

"Enough!" Erik spun around one more time, raised his hand and balled his fist. The cameraman standing behind the reporter screamed as his equipment was crushed and destroyed right in front of his eyes.

"Oh my God!" Someone screamed in the background, "He's a mutant!"

Charles wasn't even in the vicinity anymore, but one would never know with all the commotion that Erik just caused. He was usually level headed and cautious about using his powers in public, but being asked those asinine questions about Charles rubbed him the wrong way.

He didn't stick around for the aftermath. Erik burst through the double doors to the employee lounge in the back. Emma and the others followed.

"What the fuck was that?" Bobby demanded. "You trying to scare the shit out of everyone?"

"Who cares about them—"

"It's not about caring, it's about coexisting," Anna Marie added. "We made a pact that we would only use our powers for good."

"We?" Erik laughed bitterly. "I can't believe you guys. Who cares about what these inferiors think of our powers? That doesn't mean we have to lie down like dogs and hide who we really are."

"No Erik, we have an accord with the humans. You keep pulling this shit and that accord is over."

"Correction," Erik walked over to the lockers to grab his coat. "You have an accord with them."

"Dude, who cares? You hit the jackpot. It's not like you have to marry the guy. Just get some head, get some bread and then leave."

"Peter…." Erik turned toward him and crossed his arms. "Did you just suggest I whore myself out to Charles Xavier?"

A stupid grin spread across Peter's face. "More bang for his buck, if you know what I mean."

He looked annoyed. "All this just to get in my pants? I've gotten laid for less."

Before Erik made his exit, Emma took him aside. "Look, just….be careful, okay? Nobody is saying you should hide who you are. But those paparazzi live to see someone lose their temper and you just gave them so much ammo. Don't let yourself get lost in the shadow of Charles Xavier."

"Too late for that. I already want to knock that pretty boy back down to earth."

"Well, if you're gonna do it, make sure no one's around."

She was kidding of course. But Erik wasn't in the mood for jokes, considering he'd been put on the spot like he was a celebrity. He was far from it.

Erik decided to leave before things could escalate. It was the end of his shift anyway and exposing himself as a mutant wasn't his idea of a fun night. His coworkers teased him over his new "boyfriend." It was stupid and juvenile. But deep down, despite what he said, Erik was curious how Charles sounded in bed.

Because that was the only reason he was going through with it. That and, he needed to give Xavier a piece of his mind.

Why was Erik doing this again?

He spent the next half hour pondering that very question, opening his phone and then closing it again. It shouldn't have been such a hard decision. Just text Charles and ask him for the address to his party. Then Erik would show up and the fun would begin.

Because that's all this was. Fun.

After some time though, Erik got annoyed with himself. "This is stupid," he grumbled. Why was he overthinking this? Charles wasn't even someone he was remotely interested in. He opened the phone and sent Charles a text, shutting down all his thoughts.

E: Charles? It's Erik.

There. Easy enough. Not too much involved and Erik wouldn't come off as clingy. However, he didn't know if Charles was on the same wavelength, considering his response.

C: Erik, you handsome devil you.😈 I'm glad you contacted me.

Oh, great. Emojis. Something Erik hated more than anything. He was starting to have second thoughts until he read Charles' next message:

C: To be honest Erik, I'm not much of a texter. I would much rather hear that sexy voice of yours. 😉

Erik swallowed thickly, feeling himself get hard. Hearing Charles' voice would definitely make him cream his pants.

With a shaky hand, Erik pressed the green call button next to Charles' name. For some reason, he felt nervous. But why? Charles was just going to be a fun fuck for the night. Why pretend there was something more?

"Erik, I'm glad you called," Charles said, his voice sounding like pure sex when he answered. "I'm looking forward to seeing you tonight."

"Oh, really?" He adjusted his collar, trying not to let his thoughts get too dirty. "Well, I just wanted to know where this party of yours is going to be."

"So, you are interested…" If Erik didn't know any better, Charles sounded relieved. "After earlier tonight I wasn't too sure."

"Yeah well…." Erik's voice trailed off, not knowing what the hell to even say. This shouldn't have been as hard as it was. "You asked, right?"

"That I did. So why don't I send one of my drivers to pick you up and he can bring you to my boat?"

Erik scoffed. "What for? I'm perfectly capable of finding my own way there."

"Just a suggestion, grumpy pants," Charles giggled. "I want to make sure you're taken care of."

Erik frowned. "Why?"

"You are a guest at my party."

"Don't you have hundreds of other guests?"

"Yes, but I especially want to make sure you get there."

"As I've stated before, I can get there myself."

"Are you always this difficult, Erik?"

"Only toward rich, pretty boys who are spoiled rotten—"

"Doesn't seem to stop you from wanting to shag me."

"Last time I checked, you hit on me first."

"And you went along with it Erik, so why are you complaining?"

Charles never had this much trouble with a booty call before. Everyone just played nice, but Erik was a giant pain in the arse. It made no sense that he was acting like this considering he agreed to take Charles' number.

"Don't flatter yourself," Erik snorted. "I thought you were good looking and I wanted to see what the big fuss over Charles Xavier was about. I can't even buy any gottverdammt milk at the store without seeing your face plastered on a magazine cover."

"Jealous, Erik?"

"Of a sellout? Absolutely not."

"Sellout?!"

"Charles, you can't possibly feel good about yourself associating with humans."

Well, there it was. The elephant in the room was bound to come out eventually. "Why the bloody hell is it any of your business?" Charles asked him.

This was definitely a bad idea. Erik may have had rose colored glasses before but he quickly realized who he was dealing with. "We are mutants, Charles. We are the superior race, light years more intelligent than humans. Why care so much for these awful, shallow, vapid, stupid, insidious—"

"Are you done?"

Erik sputtered before he continued. "Just exactly what are you famous for? You don't sing, you don't dance, you don't act. If you weren't an heir to your daddy's estate, people wouldn't give a damn about you."

"I've got better things to do than to sit on the phone with a pretentious arsehole!"

And then the line went dead.

Charles Xavier was famous for his yacht parties. His favorite was the Mystique line.

This timeless superyacht showcased impressive leisure and entertainment amenities that made each stay aboard an experience that was second to none.

It had an awe-inspiring interior that was adorned with classic dark wood, stunning marble accents and a cream and gold color palette. The superyacht featured exceptional interior volume that maximized space for Charles and his guests with extraordinary areas for private retreats and large gatherings. From the elegant main salon to the wine cellars and the skylounge with a baby grand piano, every element of this luxury yacht's interior had been executed with precision and purpose.

The superyacht had six elegant staterooms for 12 guests. The master suite was an oasis complete with copious windows, a distinctive fireplace and luxurious en-suite bath. Mystique's guest accommodations included a VIP stateroom, three king-bed staterooms and a twin stateroom. Additionally, the yacht carried up to 12 crew, ensuring a relaxed yachting experience every time.

Mystique boasted of expansive alfresco living areas, allowing guests to sit back and unwind while they experienced the best of the on-water lifestyle. With the cruising destination as a backdrop, meals could be enjoyed on two of the yacht's decks. Plush lounging areas were on all three decks while a Jacuzzi and sunpads were found on the sundeck.

Unfortunately for Erik, all of his friends wanted to attend this party, considering it was Charles Xavier and according to Emma, he would never be around this part of town again. Erik made her promise to keep Charles far away from him and if he even saw a glimpse of that pretty boy, Erik couldn't promise not to punch him in the face.

"Well what the hell happened, Erik? You took his number, then next thing I knew, you were insulting the guy."

"He's a nuisance. And you should be ashamed for worshipping this man."

"C'mon dude, what's the issue?" Peter asked him. "No one's worshipping him, rich people throw the best parties."

"The issue is that Charles Xavier will sell you out in a heartbeat if it means he gets to be on the front cover of Forbes magazine."

"Who cares?" Emma snorted, "He's hot!"

Erik rolled his eyes. He looked over at the others—Peter, Anna Marie, Alex, Darwin, Angel, Bobby, Azazel—and they pretty much agreed that they wanted to party. They were never going to get an opportunity like this again.

"Whatever. Fine. Have fun. Leave me out of your shenanigans."

No way was Erik going to hang around a bunch of drunk idiots, even if they were his friends. He would find the quietest part of the yacht, stay there for a few hours, have a drink, and then drive all his stupid, drunk friends home before taking himself to his own pad.

He didn't know why he agreed to take Charles' number in the first place. Erik didn't "fall" for people, nor did he think they were worth catching feelings for. He wasn't a romantic and although he had no issues hitting it and quitting it, he didn't need publicity following him, which was already occurring after he took Charles' number. That was enough exposure to deal with even without his powers.

After wandering around the yacht for a while, he was surprised to find an elevator in this place. A thought came to Erik to get on the top deck, near the front of the boat and look at the water. And hopefully nobody would be there.

The universe must've really been screwing with him because as soon as the elevator door opened, there was Charles Xavier in the flesh. Looking like a doll.

Erik scowled.

"Well, well, well. Look who's here at my party."

"My friends dragged me to this dump," Erik growled, irritably pressing the 'Up' button over and over again. "Don't get excited."

"Wouldn't think of getting excited about you of all people—hey!"

Erik grabbed Charles by the collar and pulled him close. "Watch your mouth. We're no longer on the phone and I won't hesitate to throw you off this boat."

Being this close to Erik forced Charles to look down at his lips, then back up to his eyes again—a few times. It was hard to deny Erik's sharp jawline and steely grey eyes. He had a woodsy scent that tickled Charles' nose but he loved the smell. Not that he would tell Erik that.

"Bugger off….let me go!"

The elevator door was in the process of closing before Erik could spew another insult, and both men cautiously got on board. Erik made sure to stand on the far end, digging his phone out and pretending to scroll. Charles straightened the wrinkled part of his collar that Erik ruined.

"Great. Look what you did. I have to go change now."

"Boo hoo."

"Real mature. Just what precisely is your issue with me, Erik? We just met, I thought we could have drinks, maybe a chat. But now I'm being accused of being—"

"A sellout. A flunky. A backstabber. You've gone against your own kind. And the fact that you see nothing wrong with it is something I'll never respect."

"Where is all this coming from, Erik? If you thought I was a sellout, then why did you agree to—"

"Lapse of judgement. You batted those pretty blue eyes at me and I faltered. But it'll never happen again. You can fool everyone else with that cute face, but not me."

A small smirk pulled at the corner of Charles' lips. "You think I'm cute?"

Erik crossed his arms and snorted, but said nothing.

The elevator door closed without Charles or Erik pressing the corresponding buttons. Charles stood as far away from Erik as he possibly could. This guy was a ticking time bomb.

But at the same time, he was intriguing enough that Charles couldn't stay quiet.

"So, is that it? Do you think you are better than me because you despise humans and I don't? You said it yourself, we are both 'superior' right? We are brothers running the same race. So, how dare you accuse me of turning my back on my mutant kin?"

Erik snorted. "It's not an accusation if it's true. You have fellow mutants looking up to you. You should be ashamed of yourself, honestly."

"Ashamed of what? Wanting peace?"

"At our expense? It's bullshit!"

"How is it at our expense when it benefits us? Mutants no longer have to hide anymore. We can live amongst—"

"Pathetic!" Erik spat. He was leaning against the wall and stood upward. "For someone who has a PhD, you are so fucking stupid. Do you honestly think these creatures want to live side by side with us? You think they won't switch up, kidnap you and use you for their sick, twisted science experiments?"

"Erik…" Charles breathlessly backed up, hands up in surrender. The man was standing too close for comfort. "Why would you think that?"

"Why would you turn your back on us? For them?"

"I'm not doing any of that, Erik. If you would just listen to reason—"

"You drive around your fancy luxury cars and fly private jets like a celebrity, slinging your penis like it's going out of style and you want me to listen to you about anything?"

"That's enough. If that's how you really feel then piss off, Erik! Forget I even invited you here, forget we even met!"

Erik sneered and walked forward, making Charles back up even more. "Make me."

"You need to leave."

"I said make me."

With each insult, Erik stood closer and closer in Charles' face. He didn't pay attention to the proximity because he was too caught up in his own anger. Erik didn't realize how much Charles and his integration campaign bothered him until this very moment.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. "What's wrong, Xavier? Upset that someone finally has enough balls to call you out?"

"No, I—" Charles had never been challenged like this before. It made him lose his breath, his train of thought. And he was—turned on.

Erik noticed Charles' flushed expression, but he was so fired up, he didn't care. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

"Piss off you twat!"

Erik stood so close, he backed Charles into a corner. "Or what?"

Okay, now Charles was getting pissed. It was time to fight fire with fire. "Cheeky bastard."

"Brown Noser."

"Wanker!"

"Tosser!"

"Idiot!"

"Asshole!"

"Muppet!"

. . .A split second later, with all the passion built up inside, Erik pushed Charles against the wall, grabbed his face and kissed him.