A/N: I am sooooooooo sorry for this über late update! I make up for it later in this chapter. WARNING: There may be some sexually explicit content below. Also, Sinattea and all the other fantastic people who have reviewed this fic, I love you and I hope you will like it. It's now on AO3, if anyone's wondering.


Ghost musings and teenage philosophy

It was misty outside, or was it inside? Erik had no idea and he honestly didn't care. There was a low, murmuring voice in the air around him and it was oddly familiar.

A pair of hands coming out from nowhere started roaming up Erik's body and he felt at ease, with a hint, a spike of something that wasn't quite definable yet. He leaned into the touch, letting himself be fondled and caressed by the ghostly hands.

He closed his eyes to focus on the voice when he recognized it; the posh English lilt of none other than Charles Xavier. He opened his eyes to see Charles' face about an inch from his own, ghosting his lips as close to Erik as he could without ever touching him. His eyes were unnaturally blue, his nose, cheeks and lips, a viciously deep shade of red. It was like everything was caught in a fog, illuminated by light that seemed to emerge from within.

The two hands, now attached to a body, slid down Erik's t-shirt covered torso until they reached the hem of Erik's pyjama pants. A warm hand slipped inside and began stroking and twisting and pulling just the way Erik liked. Said Erik was grabbing thin air, which oddly felt like sheets bunching up in his fist. The hand kept stroking and twisting and pulling until Erik couldn't stand it anymore. With a final tug, Erik came. And woke up.

"... Shit."

-X-

Good thing his roommates were heavy sleepers. This could have been horribly embarrassing if one of them had witnessed what had just happened. Good thing the four poster beds had heavy curtains too. Erik had just sleep-masturbated to some hazy fantasy of Charles at, he checks his alarm clock, 12h 13 in the morning. In his opinion, he couldn't possibly get his hands on the Ravenclaw's body soon enough.

-X-

In another far away part of the castle, one very awake Charles Xavier is taking a shower. At 12h 13 in the morning. The main reason why he is taking a shower so late, or some would say, so early, is because he has some business he would prefer if no one witnessed. Well, except for one person who this whole business is kind of really all about.

You see, Charles is a healthy young man, a young man with needs. And a certain someone has been throwing massive amounts of oil in the fire of his needs. His needs, now practically steering his whole body on a code almost simpler than binary of "jump him" and "don't make a mess", tell him he seriously needs to get off. So he does. At 12h 13 in the morning.

-X-

About eleven hours and forty-seven minutes later, Charles was striding down the stairs to an empty study room without a single guilty look on his face. Nothing, appearance and demeanour wise, could have betrayed the smouldering soup of white hot lust boiling through his insides, behind his perfectly innocent school boy mask.

Upon entering the room, Charles bumps into the one person he didn't expect to see at the moment but was deliciously pleased to have done so; Erik.

"Erik? Hey, what are you doing here?" He asks, of course.

Before Erik can even formulate an answer, too dumbstruck to utter anything, Alex talks.

"I suck at potions so Erik's tutoring me for that."

Confusion smears across Charles' face.

"But I thought I was tutoring you in Charms."

"Oh! Right. I needed you both to tutor me in different courses so I thought I should just get both of you here at the same time, to kill the proverbial two birds with the equally proverbial stone."

Erik and Charles looked quizzically at each other.

"Totally no ulterior motives here."

Yeah. Of course not. You terrible liar.

-X-

He was just trying to have that small inch of contact; pinkies grazing, thighs touching. All that subtle contact that made the pain of restraining himself so much sweeter, like scratching an itch that has been bothering him for so long. It was funny in a sense, Charles was not... uneducated in that area either. He had been with one or two guys before he'd ever met Erik in the Astronomy Tower, he knew what it felt like to have someone else's hands pressed where he'd ache, someone else's weight on his back. So to be flustered by a single chaste scuff of skin was bewildering and also very frustrating. He felt twelve all over again.

No, he didn't feel like that twelve year old boy delving into sexuality for the first time, scratch that. A twelve year old boy wouldn't be ready to show Erik just how much he was knowledgeable with his tongue. He wouldn't even be knowledgeable.

And then, suddenly...

I fucking want you, fuck.

Oh.

-X-

"Here's homework." Charles says as he hands Alex a stack of paper.

"Due Monday." Erik says as he also hands Alex a stack of paper.

And they left in unison.

-X-

What little cool their demeanour had left them as soon as they were alone. Charles backed Erik into a wall with a vicious kiss and Erik responded with equal fervour. It was all tongues and lips until they heard laughter in the hallway.

Shite, someone's coming.

They parted, rearranged themselves, and stalked hurriedly up the stairs to the third floor.

-X-

It's several hours later, or more like three hours later, really. In the past three hours, Erik had found out that: 1. Charles is a slut, 2. He didn't mind, and 3. He was kind of a slut too. They had gone well over petty projections in the middle of the night (or very early morning) and fleeting touches in those three hours, having been chasing each other around for what felt like years.

"Fu-cking. shitee. fucK." Erik bites Charles' ear and grips his hair hard, tugging his head back.

"Oh, ooh oHhoffffuuuuckkmeeefuuckkk..."

They are pressed against a bookcase, in the deserted third floor library. Charles' cheek is pressed into the books while Erik takes him from behind. His loosened shirt is bunched upwards to his shoulder plates and his underpants and trousers are pooled around his ankles. His tie, rumpled, hangs around his neck still. Charles's eyes are closed and his mouth is opened in pure ecstasy, whispering filthy gibberish.

Erik, for his part, panting hard, shirt completely undone, hair askew, and trousers and underpants to mid-thigh, is unable to do anything any other way than messy. He presses open mouthed kisses to the nape of Charles' neck while grunting mostly incoherent praise. His hands hold on unceremoniously to Charles' thighs as he thrusts into him. They're fucking in a deserted library like the horny teenagers they are.

Then the door creaks open and the sound of footsteps appear, along with some muttering about potion physics and "fucking charms homework". Charles and Erik still. It's Alex.

The Ravenclaw with the dick currently up his ass accios his wand silently and casts a disillusionment charm on both him and the owner of said dick. Alex is aware of nothing.

Erik starts moving back again, bumping Charles, who lets out the lewdest moan, into the bookcase, catching him off guard.

Alex turns around, startled by the sound.

"Who's there?"

Let's fuck with him.

Erik accentuates his proposition by slowly thrusting in and softly kissing beneath Charles' ear.

Charles shudders and agrees, biting his bottom lip and smirking.

Erik rocks Charles into the bookcase hard once again and Charles lets out a shout.

"No, seriously. Who. The fuck. Is there." Alex looks visibly worried now.

"Ghosts... who else...?" Charles says in an airy voice, and snickers.

Alex sits back down. "Probably just ghosts."

When Erik thrusts in, this time, books fall out. He grunts audibly as Charles meets his thrust, his smile wicked and sinfully red, just like in his dream.

"Ok, that's it." Alex rises again.

Erik doesn't even bother with the joke anymore; he just thrusts in earnestly now, panting hard, head hung low. Charles falls back into the bookcase and spills more books onto the floor, moaning like a whore.

"Fucking ghosts...", Alex says as he slowly approaches the bookcase.

Charles opens his eyes in time to see Alex's puzzled expression through the hole made by the books that fell out. It's stronger than him; Charles lets out a loud giggle.

"Did you just giggle at me, Casper?" Alex says to what he perceives as thin air.

Erik braces himself with a hand on Charles' shoulder and thrusts up really hard, tugging Charles' cock with his other hand. With a clueless Alex inches away from his face and Erik fucking into him like there's no tomorrow, Charles moans long and loud. Erik responds with "ah"s and "oh"s as he too feels the impact of his newly restored pace.

"Are you hurt or something?", Alex says quizzically.

Charles moans a "harder" in encouragement.

"Oh my god... Are-are you fucking?"

Erik lets out a high pitched "fuck!"

"Oh my GOD! You ARE fucking! Oh my GOD!" The Gryffindor shouts with a look of horror on his face.

Erik feels so close now; his perfect pace starts to wither as he moves erratically into Charles, his mouth forming a perfect "O". He moans like he's in pain but what he is feeling is so much more pleasant.

Alex starts running back to his things. "Oh my GOD! There's ghosts fucking! How is that even possible!"

Erik comes with a soft "ah", finishing Charles off, who was equally close, with his hand.

"Ghost fucking! Oh my GOD!" Alex runs out of the room.

Charles and Erik, completely spent, lay in the afterglow, still pressed up against the bookcase and against each other. All of a sudden, they start to laugh uncontrollably.

Well, there one person who's never coming back to this library.


HEHEHE WELL HOW ABOUT THAT. Spoiler: the others still don't know.