A Year From Now, We'll All Be Gone

by goosenik

Charles Xavier is seventeen when he is abducted and taken to Sebastian Shaw's 'school' for young mutants, a pretty name for a torture facility created to churn out living weapons in his army. Erik Lensherr has already been there for seven years. They've been stripped of their names, but they can't be stripped of who they are. That's not, however, for lack of Shaw's trying.

5. Chapter 5: Charles, 2007

Chapter 5: Lemons and Lemonade- Charles, 2007

"So," Erik said thoughtfully, heartlessly taking Charles' queen and tossing her to the side to lay on the pile of Erik's pieces Charles had already claimed, "You didn't tell me you had a sister. What's she like?" He smiled up at Charles. "I always wanted siblings."

"You'd be a good brother," Charles noted, frowning at the loss of his queen. "My sister is lovely. I try not to think about her too often while I'm here, though." He hesitated, eyes flickering across the room, then, "She's… like us. I don't want them looking for her or finding her."

Erik nodded, not offended in the slightest. "I wouldn't want my siblings here either, if I had any. I sometimes think Zasha's what my sister would be. My mother was a demon, my sister would have eaten the patriarchy for breakfast." He laughed a little, stretching. "How does it feel to get your ass kicked in chess by a high-school dropout, by the way?"

"Okay, you only dropped out because you were abducted from your home, so you don't get to use that as an insult." Charles scoffed at that and Erik grinned. "And the game isn't over, thank you very much. Maybe I've got you where I want you." He made a decisive move with one of his rooks. "Yeah, I figured that you see them kind of like sisters. How long have they each been here?"

"Ten's been here for almost four years." Erik's expression softened. "It was just me and her, for a big stretch. Eleven's only been here a few months, really. Not very long."

Charles considered this. "That's impressive. I kind of thought with her temper… I thought that she wouldn't make it here for four years. She must sublimate some of it when she's with Shaw." He smiled at Erik's next move at the chessboard, pleasure at his impending victory flickering through him. "Though showing fear just encourages men like him. Maybe the anger's how she's held on for so long."

Erik nodded. "We don't talk about our sessions. I don't know if he's worse with her, if the punishments are similar, the kind of data he collects from her. She doesn't talk about it, because it doesn't make a difference and it doesn't help either of us. She sometimes needs healing, and sometimes she's just upset after. I do what I can. If she wanted to talk, she would." He shrugged a little, clearly unhappy about the situation in general, but Charles had seen them together and he knew that they were actually devoted to each other. She would do whatever she could to help Erik, and he would do whatever he could to help Ten. It was really very sweet. "I do what I can."

"Of course you do." Charles felt a smile cross his face, warm and fond. "Erik, if you could do one thing right now, what would it be?"

Kiss you. Erik grinned at him, then shrugged, thinking about it more seriously. "If I could do any one thing… I don't know. I guess I'd like to go back to school, actually. I wanted to go to uni, and get a degree in something. It was important to my mom. But then, I wanted to adventure around, travel, pretend to work but actually just see everything." He shrugged again. "Never had big plans, was never passionate about any specific job or thing. Not like you, Mr. Oxford. What did you want to do? What was your degree in?" He looked up at Charles in interest, that lazer focus disarming as always. "You talk about so much stuff you're interested in, what could you actually major in that combined all of that?"

"Genetics," Charles replied promptly. "I'm going to get a PhD and do research. I'd like to work more on the X gene. Mutation is such an understudied field. There are enough of us that we are known to exist, but no one knows how or why, and we're such a taboo topic that there's not much research being done on the cause of mutation. Additionally, since all mutations are so unique, it makes it hard to narrow down who is what and if familial connections play a part in what mutation you develop, etcetera, etcetera…" Charles claimed Erik's bishop, who had been responsible for the downfall of his queen. "I'd like to be a professor in the end," he decided absently. "I could do that while I research, and I could teach people like us more about what they are and what that means. You know?"

Erik laughed, grinning at him. "You know, I can see you as a professor. You would get fired, though, because I cannot imagine you giving students a bad grade, but you are brilliant, and patient, even with Ten. You'd be great." He looked at the board and considered, then made a terrible decision with a rook.

"What are you even doing, are you just throwing the game?" Charles took the rook immediately, scandalized. "You would think you were a novice, making choices like that. Checkmate."

"Dammit." Erik sighed, flopping back to the floor. "No, I'm just stupid today. Oh well. At least you still like me." He grinned up at Charles, then sat up, looking out the window as if something had caught his eye. "Get a blanket," he said quickly. "I have something I've been meaning to show you."

"Something to show me?" Charles echoed in surprise, standing quickly and crossing the library to grab one of the worn, threadbare blankets that was hung across the armchair there. "What? Where? Isn't it nearly two in the morning?" He grinned at Erik, reaching out to help him stand.

"Yes." Erik stood with his help, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb. "But understand, it has to be dark enough for you to see, and the outside lights don't turn off until after midnight, so it's a very thin line you have to walk."

"I see." Charles offered a smile, something in his chest bright and buoyant. "Lead the way, by all means."

Erik led him out of the library, toward a back part of the building that Charles had never seen before. Up two flights of stairs sat a door with a heavy padlock on it. Erik snorted, waving a hand, and it bent out of shape, falling to the ground.

"Okay," Erik said, turning to look at Charles. "It's not the most incredible thing ever, but it's kind of cool up here. There's a lot of stairs, are you up for a little hike?" He was carefully shielding, wanting to keep it a surprise.

"Yeah." Charles laughed. "Of course, you could always just float me up." He waved one of the cuffs at him merrily, and Erik snorted.

"Somehow, I don't think dislocation is the tone I want to set," he commented dryly, which had Charles grinning and heading up the stairs after him.

"Does Shaw know you can get up here?" he asked curiously, raising onto his tiptoes in a vain attempt to see over Erik's shoulders.

"Well, yes." Erik laughed, using his height to block the view. He turned, looking down at Charles. "Close your eyes," he said. "There's a lot of stairs, but they're not steep. It's not as cool if you see it coming. Shaw doesn't care if we're up here, really- he is against fun in general, but everything's broken so he doesn't see why we'd get use out of it."

"Then why's it locked?" Charles shut his eyes obediently, tightening his grip on Erik's hand to maintain balance as they continued up the steps. Erik went slowly, making sure that Charles didn't fall.

"Well, I like to think it's because he's optimistic that if there's a lock on it, I won't go through. But he's really just stupid if he thinks that a lock makes me feel anything but more determined to go through and see what he doesn't want the others to see."

"You're stubborn as a mule," Charles informed him dryly. "You're lucky that Shaw sees what he wants to see, rather than who you are. Well… I suppose maybe he sees your potential, which is indeed impressive, but he sees the wrong direction for it."

Erik laughed a little. "I'm glad you think I have potential for something other than destruction."

"Everyone has potential for something other than destruction," Charles said firmly as they reached level ground. He left his eyes shut. "They just don't always look at what that other option might be."

He felt a shiver of unease, thinking about alternative options.

"I'm not going to do that again." Charles stared at Shaw, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "I'll never kill anyone again. I'll let them kill me, I don't care."

Shaw's mouth tightened into a flat line, a mocking kind of disapproval on his face. "Oh? So ready to be a martyr, Twelve, so ready to throw away that life and that ability that you are so lucky to have been blessed with."

"Lives are equal," Charles snapped, taking a step forward. "And when you take one, you destroy everything they could ever be, everything they've ever experienced. You act like it's nothing, like holding a soul in your hand and snuffing it out is collateral damage but you have no idea of the magnitude of your actions. The loss of life isn't a casual-"

Shaw slammed him back against the wall, his hand tight around Charles' throat, and he squeezed tighter. Charles choked, fingers scrabbling uselessly against his gloved hand, and Shaw tsked, shaking his head. "You could be so much, Xavier," he murmured in Charles' ear as he issued a hoarse noise of protest. "You could shake this world to its foundations, you and Two both. You could rewrite the history and the future of civilization and mutant rights, and yet your damned empathy ties your hands." He tipped Charles' head back, sliding him up the wall as dark spots bloomed in front of his eyes.

"If we could just burn that out of your brain, how much more useful you'd be," he mused, lips brushing against the shell of Charles' ear.

Then he was on the ground, Shaw walking back across the room casually as Charles sucked in air, struggling to his hands and knees. "Get out. Rethink your decision to be useful. I have no purpose for layabouts here."

Charles pushed the memory away sharply, hand tightening on Erik's to ground himself in the present. He brushed against Erik's mind, so bright and ever-present, and felt the shivers of unease in his spine begin to settle again. He wasn't with Shaw. He was with Erik. Shaw couldn't burn out his empathy, that was a ridiculous and impossible notion.

They were going to get out soon, he assured himself, as he had for the past two months.

"Can I look yet?" he asked out loud, pulling up a smile.

"Yes." Erik laughed and Charles opened his eyes to see what looked like an old-style observatory, a broken telescope off to the side. The entire ceiling was glass, there were old books all over the place, ivy and moss growing from where the panes above had leaked and created plantlife below.

Charles stared, mouth falling open as he crossed the room. The stars were bright above them, shimmering and beautiful out in the country as they were, more stars in the panes above him than he had ever seen in his life. The books, the ivy, the glass… It almost reminded him of his family's estate. "Erik, it's beautiful," he marveled, reaching out a hand to trace across the cover of one of the dusty books. He crossed quickly and crouched to inspect the broken telescope in fascination, lifting it and peering through the broken glass. He set it back down carefully, resting his elbows on his knees.

"It's such a shame that Shaw owns this place," he reflected, tilting his head back to stare up at the stars through the ceiling. "I bet it would be really quite beautiful, in someone else's hands."

"It would." Erik leaned back against one of the bookshelves, smiling up at the stars, then took the blankets and spread them out on the ground, gesturing. "Come here, if you lay down and look up, it's like you're outside."

Charles obeyed quickly, stretching out beside him and resting his head on Erik's shoulder. He shifted closer, getting comfortable, and studied the heavens above, fascinated. "It does look like we're outside," he agreed in a murmur. "It's beautiful, Erik, thank you. It's a lovely gift."

"You're welcome." Erik smiled at the sky, pleased with the success of his surprise, and wrapped his arms around Charles, contentment and a strange feeling of home, here in this strange place, coming off him in waves. "I found it when I was a lot younger, and I come up here sometimes when I need to think. The stargazing here is better than you can see most places; there must not be anything around for miles and miles, because you can actually see everything, constellations and things."

Charles laid there with him for a long few moments, chattering with him about the likelihood that Ten would burn the house down, that Eleven would turn into a bat for them anytime soon, that Shaw had to get hair transplants. This thought in particular struck Erik as funny, and Charles revelled in his delight as he rolled onto his side, laughing. Charles persisted on this strain for several minutes, burrowing into Erik's side and the sound of his laughter, his head bouncing slightly with the force of Erik's chuckles beneath him.

"It could be true," he pointed out with a grin, propping himself up on an elbow and looking down at Erik, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I-" He stopped, his mouth oddly dry. Suddenly, he was aware of just how dark those eyes were, just how close that mouth was. Where the atmosphere had been easy, laughing, casual, suddenly it was… different. There was heat and almost electricity in the air. He couldn't tell if there was an actual change, or if it was simply Erik's personality, powerful and strong and intense. He could see his want in his face, hear it ringing through his mind.

It was quiet for a long moment, then, "I should probably go," Erik said, and Charles could read that he was aware of the way the air between them had changed, too. He reached out, touching Charles' face and allowing his fingers to linger on his skin. His hand against Charles' felt like fire, like Ten's arms had in the few times he had brushed against her. "We should go to sleep," he amended, eyes not leaving Charles' face.

"I've always had trouble sleeping," Charles murmured, searching his face slowly, catching his fingers and sliding his hand down Erik's arm.

He smiled and leaned down, touching his lips to Charles'. It wasn't their first kiss by any means, but it still felt as brilliant each time. Charles curled his hand into Erik's shoulder, moving closer, and Erik hummed in approval, reaching up to rest a hand in Charles' hair. He kissed him again, a little harder and deeper this time, and Charles let out a low moan as his lip was bitten, Erik's tongue doing marvelous things with his.

Erik turned his head, kissing the corner of Charles' mouth, his jawline, his neck, pushing at the neck of his shirt with his nose to properly press a kiss at the place where Charles' neck met his shoulders, nipping lightly with his teeth. He sat them both up, tipping Charles back slightly as he lifted him and rested the shorter boy in his lap, one arm around Charles' back, the other hand buried in his hair and cradling the back of his head so there was no chance of him falling or really shifting much at all, just resting on Erik's knees.

"Jesus, Erik-" Charles gasped it and Erik's mouth made its way back to his after endless moments of exploring what skin he could with his access blocked by the sweater Charles was wearing. His mind was filled with the way Charles tasted and smelled, how soft his skin was beneath his lips, his delight at the fact Charles had freckles across his collarbone and shoulder that he could see in the moonlight, and the sounds that he, Charles, was making. But other thoughts entered as he held them closer together and slowly, slowly, he pulled him back into a proper seated position and broke the kiss, breathing hard, resting Charles back closer to his knees again so they weren't pressed together.

"You," Erik managed, resting his head against Charles', "Are far too gorgeous for your own good, or mine." He offered a small grin, a wicked grin, that made Charles' stomach lurch in a very good way. "And we should go to bed. It's getting late, and kissing like that isn't a good idea, probably." Regret, but the quiet knowledge that he was doing the right thing sang out from his mind, as clearly as if Charles was living in it himself.

"What if I don't want to go to bed?" It almost broke from him and Erik stilled, hands having dropped to Charles' hips. His fingers tightened there, and Charles continued, slowly stroking a hand down Erik's arm. "What if I don't want to stop kissing you?"

Erik took in a slow, steady breath, clearly to calm himself. "We've talked about this. I don't want to risk you. I kissed you and he threw you down an elevator shaft." His expression twisted, and he lifted Charles' arm, kissing his wrist gently, where the half-healed marks still sat. "If he found out we did more… I have to protect you. It's one thing to shield when we're kissing, but this is different. It might be impossible to keep from projecting. I have to make sure-"

"You don't know that's why he threw me," Charles pressed, then, I want this. He reached out, pulling him close, and Erik let Charles pull them back together, kissing Charles back slowly. We don't know when he will get tired of all of this and do something we can't undo. I want you. I-I know you want me. He wasn't used to speaking for other people, but if he didn't in this case, nothing would ever happen. Charles knew his rules. He knew not to share the thoughts that he gathered from others, not to tell them things that they hadn't decided to say out loud yet. But he wanted to break that rule, needed to break that rule, because if he didn't speak this time, nothing would ever happen because Erik would never press the issue. Whatever he does to us, we can take.

If Emma hears… Erik searched his face, pure desire, hot and heavy, warring with his protective side. "I can't risk you, Twelve. I can't."

I can shield. Charles was relatively sure that he could, anyway. No one had confronted them yet about being together. Shaw hadn't made any more obvious moves. So perhaps his aim of masking their memories and being discreet in person was working. Maybe it was simply being overlooked for a bigger punishment later on. Either way, they couldn't just stay here and be prisoners, waiting and cowering in fear.

They were high in the building, far away from any other minds, and if Charles' control slipped and he began projecting, the feelings and thoughts wouldn't reach the girls, Emma, or Shaw, unless Shaw's constantly-silent mind was somehow very close at that exact moment. It was safer. Charles maneouvered into Erik's lap properly, moving them flush together, and with a smile that broke their kiss, realized that even through Erik's jeans, he could feel the telltale bump of arousal. Erik did want this. He did want Charles, did want to be with him. I want this, Erik. I know you do too. If he does snap and kill us, it'll be for one of a hundred reasons. I don't want to not have this. With you.

Erik's self-restraint battled with his need for a moment longer, and Charles slipped his hand down, brushing his fingers lightly over Erik's jean-covered erection. Erik's breath released almost in a quick breath and Charles' back was hitting the blankets that they had laid on the floor for stargazing.

Tell me if anything upsets you if you need me to stop tell me to stop- Erik's thoughts were hardly coherent in their intensity, but instead a string of reassurance and questions as he rucked up Charles' shirt, kissing his exposed skin. Charles felt himself tense, remembering, suddenly, the scars that told terrible stories on his skin, but Erik more or less ignored them, only a flicker of quiet anger registering in the back of his mind really any indication he had actually seen them.

"Twelve." Erik pushed his hips against Charles' and he arched up against him, burying his fingers in Erik's jacket as he bit Charles' ear. The friction between them felt so good, made it so damn hard to focus. Let me see you. I want to know what feels good, let me see? It took Charles another moment or two to realize that he wanted that bizarre projecting that Charles had done by accident the first time they had done anything like this. His fingers pulling at Charles' shirt, leaving streaks of fire behind, made it difficult to focus or analyze what it was that he was asking right away. Charles slid his hands beneath Erik's shirt, fingers sliding below his waistband, and Erik's thoughts became slightly more incoherent. I don't want to hurt you, never want to hurt you please if its okay just let me feel what feels good for you-

Charles hesitated, then pulled back his own shields slightly, reaching out to Erik's mind and holding onto it more tightly. Erik took in a sharp breath, looking down at Charles as he allowed the hunger, the heat, the want flow across the bridge. Erik rocked his hips against Charles experimentally and that wonderful friction filled them both, edgy and sharp. He grinned again, that wicked grin that tied Charles up in knots, and pulled Charles' shirt off entirely. Erik lowered his head to lick one of Charles' nipples, supporting himself on his elbows and burying a hand in Charles' hair, keeping him in place as Charles gasped. He hadn't thought, really, that men's nipples would be so sensitive, but apparently he had been very wrong.

You are so goddamn beautiful, Erik thought fervently, moving back up to kiss Charles, rocking their hips together again. It was almost in the right place to give a little release, almost just right, and Erik laughed against Charles' skin, shaking his head.

He is wearing far too many clothes, Charles decided somewhat impatiently, pulling at his jacket and t-shirt. There was a moment, as the t-shirt came off, where Charles caught a sharp flash of worry from Erik, but he was beautiful in the moonlight, the pain he'd had etched into his skin shimmering. He was worried that Charles would find the scarring disturbing or upsetting, was ready to stop, but with their linked minds open to each other the way they were, he saw how much Charles didn't care, how beautiful he thought he was, and Erik laughed a little self-consciously, ducking his head to kiss him again in relief.

Charles mapped Erik's back, chest and stomach with his hands as Erik did the same to his- so many scars, so many strange whorls and ridges of skin that Charles had never seen. Some were merely thin lines, others were clearly from large wounds that had closed awkwardly. But all of them reminded Charles that Erik had gone through something terrible and come back out of it alive, so in a strange way, it was… comforting. He had been through so much and yet here he was, kissing along the waistband of Charles' trousers on a rooftop sunroom in the moonlight, alive and healthy and so happy to finally be touching Charles, he wanted to explode out of his skin.

After all, if Erik didn't mind Charles' scars, why should Charles mind his?

Erik leaned back up slightly, looking down at Charles. His hair was falling into those large, dark eyes and he was trembling very slightly as he kept himself still. "If you don't want to, you can say so," he whispered. "Any time, for any reason. Okay? I don't care. I won't be angry. I need you to feel safe." He pressed a kiss to Charles' nose, a surprisingly sweet gesture compared to the need and raw heat surging through him that Charles suspected that he'd have felt even without being a telepath. "I need you safe and happy, Twelve," he repeated quietly, and Charles felt the smallest flicker of irritation that he still wasn't allowed to know Charles' name. Soon, he promised himself. As soon as he found the flaw in Emma's shields, he would get them out. He would tell Erik his name. "So just… just say anything, at all, and I'll stop. You don't even have to say it, just think it." That was another reason he'd wanted to be connected like this, Charles realized; it ensured that Erik knew if at any point, something upset Charles.

And Charles knew that, regardless of his need and how much Erik wanted him right now, if Charles said no, Erik would get up, help Charles get dressed, and carry the blankets downstairs. He'd leave him to sleep for the night and go to his own room without mentioning what had almost happened. The boy staring down at Charles, far older beyond his years, waiting for consent, for Charles' agreement, was not someone to guilt anyone into something.

A knight, always taking care of those around him.

What had Charles done to deserve such loyalty? Such faith? What had anyone done to create such a good, loyal being? One so vicious, so protective, so dedicated? What could he, Charles, do to earn him, to keep him, to protect him in return? If Erik was the knight, flexible and dedicated and loyal, then Charles was the king- useless and slow in comparison.

Charles leaned up, pressing his forehead to Erik's briefly. "I want this, Erik. I will tell you if that changes, but it's not going to."

Erik nodded and lowered his head, kissing Charles slowly. For a few moments it was simply warm and sweet, gentle and soft and affectionate. Charles felt the smallest fragment of hesitation from Erik, who had been trapped in the manor since he was thirteen, who knew very little about how to do this all in the exact and proper way. Charles blinked, pulling back for the smallest instant, and sent flickers of images and techniques flirting across the bond, quick bursts of knowledge along with the assurance that it could, in no way, be a disappointment to Charles.

Delight flickered through Erik's mind, and then the kiss changed again, his fingers curling around Charles' ribs, his hips pressing into Charles', and the heat jumped back between them. Erik's fingers dipped below Charles' waistband, unbuttoning his trousers with one hand as he cupped his face with the other, pushing the trousers down a little, past his hips. Erik slid his fingers beneath the waistband of Charles' briefs and Charles arched up into his hand with a whimper as Erik's fingers closed around him for the first time.

Erik took his time, stroking Charles up and down as Charles buried his nails in Erik's back, breath growing ragged as his hips moved in time to the movement of his lover's hands. Erik's mouth sucked at Charles' nipples, licked at his ribs, bit at his collarbone, claimed his mouth. It was constant sensation and Charles would have been embarrassed by the sounds he was making, except he could hear how good it made Erik feel, to elicit such a reaction.

Charles couldn't take it anymore, had to touch him. He pushed Erik back and over as Erik chuckled, seeing the plan in Charles' head clear as day with the connection wide open as it was. Charles barely gave Erik time to really register, though, as he unbuttoned his jeans with clumsy fingers and pushed them down- Erik lifted his hips accommodatingly- and Charles shoved Erik's boxers down to free his erection.

Charles hadn't ever done this before, hadn't actually done any of this before, but he'd seen it in plenty of heads, had heard it in plenty of heads, had actually been in the next room during oral sex where the man was projecting so loudly what exactly his girlfriend was doing that he could have written a twenty-page paper on it. Charles knew the theory, of course, but he'd never tried it himself. As he'd told Erik, he'd been busy with academia and had no potential dating partners, anyway. Nonetheless, the connection with Erik gave him confidence and Charles knew that if it wasn't quite right, he could guide himself by Erik's reactions.

Charles lowered his head, taking Erik in his mouth, and resisted the urge to smile as Erik sucked in breath, shuddering. He was bigger than Charles had expected, and although he was fairly certain he could take most if not all of Erik in his mouth, he wasn't interested in experimenting with his gag reflex at the moment, and so just stuck to what felt comfortable and right, this first time.

Erik didn't seem to mind that Charles didn't get all of his length in his mouth, if Charles was to listen to the sounds he was making and the oh mein Gott, oh mein Gott, bitte hör nicht auf, das fühlt sich so gut an … that ran through his head like a mantra. 'Oh my god, please don't stop, that feels so good,' roughly translated, Charles noted in the back of his mind, checking this to make sure that all was well. As before, Erik lost a lot of his English and reverted back to his mother tongue when he was… less than in perfect control.

Charles sucked experimentally again, moving his head a little, and Erik's hips bucked as he let out a whimper. Delighted, Charles began to add suction in earnest, moving his head up and down to create constant stimulation, letting his length slide through Charles' lips. Erik whimpered and cried out, one hand balling in the blankets below him, the other in Charles' hair, and Charles drowned himself in the sensations Erik was feeling, in the ecstasy of what he was doing to him. It was like a feedback loop, the sensations and emotions multiplying back and forth and back, and it was nearly dizzying.

He was close, Charles could tell- again, he had been living in university housing and unfortunately for a telepath living anywhere near a large group of sexually-active college students, people tended to project during sex and especially toward the end. Erik bucked and whimpered, crying out, his sweat-slicked skin glimmering in the moonlight, and then his eyes opened, wild and almost frenzied.

"Ich will dich jetzt sofort," he managed, and pushed Charles over and down on the blankets, pulling the rest of his trousers off his legs and kicking off his own jeans entirely. Charles scanned for a translation- I want you right now and had time to smile before Erik's fingers brushed at his entrance, and electricity zipped through him. "Is this okay?" he breathed, and Charles nodded, a little shakily, but certainly all the same. Erik slid a finger into Charles and the latter gasped at just how fucking good it felt as Erik moved his finger inside, sending what genuinely almost felt like little shocks through his body with every movement.

Charles tipped his head back with a moan as Erik joined a second finger inside him and lowered his head to suck and bite Charles' nipples at the same time. This elicited a God, Erik! through the bond, which, as a small tin crashed beside them, caused Erik to give a hoarse laugh. "Emma's lotion," he explained as Charles looked around at the sound, and Charles felt a grin crash across his face. She would definitely not be happy if she'd known that her -probably incredibly expensive lotion- was to be used for this.

But those thoughts dissolved as Erik wrapped his hand around Charles' cock, stroking as he murmured against Charles' skin, laying between his spread legs with now three fingers moving inside him. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, Erik whispered as he pushed his fingers in deeper and Charles tossed his head back with a sharp intake of breath, his hips bucking as he breathed Erik's name.

There was a slight coolness as Erik gently applied the lotion, stroking Charles in and out with one hand and his other still on his erection, Erik's own pressing into Charles' thigh. Then he stopped, and Charles looked up at him blearily, struggling to focus with all the sensory things hitting him all at once. "Are you ready?" Erik's voice was slightly hoarse, slightly unsteady, and he was breathing hard, his sweaty hair slightly in his eyes still, but waiting for Charles. Still, he was trying to assure Charles, they could stop. He'd pack everything up.

Charles sent him a pulse of need and affection, want and acceptance and happiness, and Erik's eyes heated. He gripped Charles' hip with one hand and slowly guided himself into him with the other, reapplying lotion carefully.

The weight and fullness there was strange, Charles couldn't deny that, but god it felt good as Erik filled him, and since Charles could feel how good it felt for Erik as his body hugged him, the experience was exquisite. Erik smiled a little against Charles' neck, checking him over quickly, then ducked his head and kissed him slowly as he pulled out slowly, so slowly, and then pushed back in, sending Charles' nerve endings screaming and jumping. His hips bucked and Erik laughed breathlessly, slowly picking up the pace, pursuing the angles where Charles moaned or cried out, riding the waves of their impending orgasms as pure pleasure washed over both of them and flooded the connection they had opened.

It wasn't long before Erik was slamming into Charles, gripping Charles' hip with one hand and steadying himself with the other, whispering and moaning Charles' name between kissing him, swallowing his whimpers and cries and moans as pleasure hit over and over in shimmering waves that Charles had never experienced before. Second-hand orgasms hadn't quite felt like this, and his own experiments had been satisfactory, but nothing like this, either.

Their pleasure built, spiking higher and higher as they moved together, and Charles cried out his name- not Two but Erik, his real name, his favorite name in the world- and Erik came, crying out the only name he knew Charles as, throwing back his head and gripping Charles' hip with bruising tightness. Charles had been in close enough to hear very clearly for plenty of orgasms, living in the dormitory, but he hadn't been linked like this with any of them, and it was fascinating, in an academic way, how he could feel his almost as strongly as if it were Charles' own, his beautifully steady mind filling with sensation and light, concentration shattering into tiny pieces as pure ecstasy and bliss flooded the connection between them. His orgasm triggered Charles', and Charles cried out his name again as Erik stroked Charles' cock, stretching out the ecstasy for Charles as long as he could even through his own climax.

The world came back into focus endless moments or minutes later, with Charles curled up and tucked into Erik's side, his fingers running through Charles' tangled and sweaty curls sleepily, mind a haze of contentment and happiness and affection. "Hey," he murmured, voice almost a half octave deeper. "How do you feel? Did I hurt you?" A twinge of fear floated across the connection- Charles hadn't broken it, so they were still almost seamlessly bound.

No. Charles felt drowsy and sated, heavy and almost drugged with pleasure and contentment. He couldn't quite remember ever feeling this safe. Certainly he hadn't in his home, and in his first few months at Oxford, he'd been haunted by the constant fear that Kurt might come by, might appear out of nowhere and grab him by the throat. Later, he had felt safer there. Particularly in the library.

But here, where he actually had a very real chance of being killed (and being killed for what he had just done) he felt… more safe and more happy than he ever had in his life.

You didn't hurt me, Charles added, turning his head and kissing Erik's neck slowly. Would it be possible to just stay up here? To never leave, never return below, just to dwell in this afterglow forever? You were perfect. You're always perfect.

Erik laughed, pulling Charles closer. I'm glad you think so, at least, he murmured, running his fingers gently down Charles' arm. "I love that you have freckles," he said after a moment, teasing, and Charles laughed.

"My genetic makeup says that you're welcome," he said dryly, finding his voice very slightly hoarse. He couldn't help a grin at that and settled further against Erik's chest, watching as his lover swirled the metal cuffs around and around without touching them, the bracelets spinning softly around his wrists. "That tickles," he mumbled on a yawn, smiling a little.

Erik smiled. "I know you trust me," he said warmly, kissing his temple, "But will you trust me with those, for a minute? I've been practicing things, I want to try something."

Charles hesitated for a beat, his groggy brain trying to process the question and accept the request for his only precious possession. But it was Erik who wanted them, Erik who was warm and soft and safe around Charles, so he nodded, settling back against Erik again once he realized that he'd stilled. "I trust you with them," Charles agreed, reluctantly releasing the mechanisms from his wrists. He felt oddly light without the familiar weight, and was faintly amused by the fact that it was disconcerting.

Erik lifted both hands and the manacles hung in midair, then spun, disintegrating into liquid. Charles stiffened with the smallest flicker of panic, but stifled it, didn't speak. Erik had asked Charles to trust him, Charles had to wait- and then there were two pools of metal in the air. He started doing complicated motions with his fingers, brows furrowed in concentration, and Charles gave up trying to follow them or the manipulations of power he could hear in Erik's head, waiting to see what was happening instead.

After a few moments of fiddling with it and reshaping it, a bracelet of sorts hung in the air before them, turning slowly as Erik examined it. The manacles were now a thick metal bracelet, the links alternating a shimmery, shining metal and a duller, darker one. Erik smiled at me, lowering it into my hands. "Tungsten and platinum," he said quietly. "Two metals that compliment each other." Charles could feel rather than see Erik's face heat. "They're… I dunno. I thought it might be cool, to have them alternating. Shaw's such a dick, using platinum in a handcuff."

He didn't try to explain the analogy in his mind, or the precise reasoning behind it. Perhaps it would be hard for him to vocalize the way the platinum's vibration and the tungsten's vibration nearly sang together, the way the metals chimed so smoothly despite how different they were. But Charles, still linked, saw these details and smiled against Erik's skin, curling his fingers around the bracelet.

"It's perfect," he said sincerely, tilting his head back to meet Erik's eyes. "Truly, genuinely, incandescently perfect. Thank you." He pressed a slow kiss to Erik's lips, placed his head back on his talented metallokinetic's chest, and began to trace a scar on Erik's ribcage that was almost shaped like a ginkgo leaf as his other hand held the bracelet over his heart. He hesitated for a minute in the peaceful quiet, then, "You… do know, don't you?"

He didn't look at Erik, didn't say the words. He knew that, if they were said, it would be that much harder for Erik if this all went wrong, if Shaw did succeed in breaking them and everyone else to pieces. But Charles needed him to know it all the same, even if they never used the precise words.

Still connected, Erik could hear the nuances behind the question without having to ask, and nodded, turning his face into Charles' hair. "Yes," he said quietly, hugging him into his side. He was relieved, happiness and joy flowing through the bridge. He had never said the words to anyone, had never had the words spoken except by family, and it was wonderful and strange to him, but mostly wonderful. "And you know that I do, too, right? You are a mind-reader. You probably knew before I did."

Charles felt his smile, broad and brilliant, cross his face, and pressed it against Erik's skin. "Well, we try not to parade things about or go looking for such things," he said, striving for nonchalance and not the joy running rampant in his bloodstream. It wasn't a very effective act, given that the mind-link was still in place. Charles pressed another kiss to Erik's neck and severed the link carefully, pulling back into his own shields.

The world was dimmer and less colorful without two perceptions. His own emotions felt smaller, more content to sit in his skin rather than burst out of it, and Charles realized that he felt very, very tired. He shut his eyes, flattening his hand over the ginkgo leaf. "I suppose it would be bad for us to spend the night here," he sighed, brow furrowing slightly.

"It would," Erik chuckled, but sounded just as disappointed to have to move from their warm, comfortable spot. "I don't want to push it further than we can." He rolled Charles onto his back, pressing a kiss over his heart. "One of these days," he murmured against Charles' pale skin, "I will fall asleep next to you every day, and wake up with you every day." He smiled up at Charles. "We're going to get out and build a life together, Twelve."

"Good." Charles leaned down, catching his lips again before slowly extricating himself and beginning to get dressed again. "I like tea in the mornings," he added cheerfully, turning and reaching down to help him up. "Help me put this on?" he requested once he had, holding the bracelet in his palm.

Erik did so with a bemused, sweet sort of smile, and Charles felt himself fall, a little deeper and more irrevocably, in love with him.