Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from X-men First Class nor any of its affiliates or franchise.
A/N: Once again, I do not know if I should be posting this, seeing as I'm taking off from writing for quite a while. Enjoy this bit.
-o-o-o-
Erik Lansherr was a stubborn man.
Charles Xavier was the poor soul unlucky enough to rediscover this, even as he attempted to proceed with dinner like normal.
If only Erik would leave him alone.
Charles was speaking jovially with Raven, seated at his right, when out of nowhere a searing image assaulted his cortex. Lansherr, down on his knees, with his mouth on Xavier's-
The telepath choked on his salad, flushing a slight dusting of pink across his cheeks, as he shot a scathing glance across the table at the smirking metal bender, who seemed very busy with his steak platter.
'ERIK.' Charles admonished, frowning in the metal bender's mind. He rarely ever used telepathic speech when it was unwarranted. And someone loudly projecting an image as obscene as that at him, over *dinner* with the children for christ'sake, was definitely something to-
'*CHARLES*' Erik Lansherr's mental reply cut through Xavier's thoughts like hot steel through putty, a mental brow raised as that sinfully gravelly tone -dipped as though Erik meant to devour him- made a shiver go down Charles' spine.
'Stop this Erik.' Xavier shot a hardened look at the metal bender, even as he assured Raven he was all right, straightening his salad plate and drinking a glass of water to help the previously lodged grape tomato go down.
'Will you tell me what you *insist* on hiding from me?' Erik inquired with a low drawl, amusement creeping into his voice. The tone of a victor when he saw his spoils coming near. The dark haired man was always arrogant. Always smug. It was a quality that had always worked in Charles' favor before. The solid foundation when the telepath found himself wavering. The necessary ammo when Charles found himself with nowhere to turn.
The sinful, burning need that consumed Charles every night.
To have that skilled metal manipulator in bed. Have those strong hands all over him, pinning him down. Have that hot mouth in places that it needed to be.
Xavier swallowed, feeling Erik's eyes drilling holes into him, though he had refused to look at him through the whole evening prior to dinner.
He wanted it. Needed it so badly. But he was not willing to lose the one person he cared for the most in this world. He could not risk their friendship over this.
Charles flicked his resolve filled blue eyes, 'I will not.'
Xavier could almost feel the fire under the metal manipulator's skin, Erik Lansherr growing rigid in his seat at Xavier's response.
But then Erik seemed to relax, stretching with a lazy, sure grin as he rumbled mentally, 'Then I. Will. NOT. Stop. I will *never* stop. You can count on it, Charles.'
It was the telepath's turn to bristle, as he stated in mental exasperation, 'You are as stubborn and tenacious as you are foolhardy, Erik Lansherr. And you lack the unfortunate wisdom to know just when to call it quits.'
'I NEVER call it quits, Charles. You of all people know that...' Erik shifted forward in his seat, eyes intense behind steepled fingers as he added with a growl, 'Not until I get what I want.'
'Then you will be playing for a long time,' Charles chuckled, eyes flashing as he stated, 'I do not lose so easily.'
'And I never lose.'
'So sure are we?'
'*YES*.'
'...' Xavier had no true response to this, and merely left it at that. A part of him shrank back at the other's frank confidence. The other reveled the challenge.
-o-o-o-
Charles had made the extra effort to never to be caught alone with the dangerous man. And he had been successful for weeks, something that frustrated Erik to no end.
There were certain advantages to being a telepath. Knowing where and when someone was going to be in a room was one of them. He knew the first time Erik walked in with Charles conversing with his kid sister, Lansherr had believed it to be a coincidence. But the next several times Erik realized this to not be the case, and hid his internal irritation well through his outwardly clipped tones, yet calm features.
Anytime Lansherr asked if Xavier could speak to him alone, Charles had always declared he was too busy. Always with a little crinkled smile which, while Erik did find endearing, would make Lansherr all the more irked and determined to drive the smaller man into a corner from which he could not weasel his way out of.
Which is why, when Charles heard the door lock behind him, and with the sudden overwhelming sense of Erik's presence, did his chest constrict and he turned with a small gasp of disbelief.
"Erik...?" Charles questioned as he turned from his view of the courtyard, wondering how the other had managed to evade detection.
Then he saw the culprit in the form of a specially obtained helmet, which Erik had just took off and was now smirking as he placed it on the end table by the door.
Oh how the tables turned. Seemed Erik Lansherr was one to play dirty as long as he could use it to his advantage.
"Charles..." He said the name as he always did, slightly admonishing though wonderfully rumbled in silk and sin. Erik looked up from the helmet, straightening his suit smartly before waving two fingers to lock the deadbolt behind him with a deafening click, "We need to talk."
Charles felt his brain stall, eyes on his escape behind Erik, before he jump started it, forcing himself to go through all possible moves and tactics to gain the upper hand, "I don't know what you believe we need to discuss, Erik, but as I've said before, I am-"
"Busy, yes I know. Talking to Raven, or the children, or collaborating some event or another. Or even something as important as this: staring at flowers and vines blooming outside the window." Erik growled, cutting the man off as he stalked forward. He received a small thrill in watching the normally calm telepath, stumble as he took a few steps to evade the metal manipulator, placing the couch between them. Almost as if it had been afterthought. An accident. Erik followed, stalking Xavier step for step as they circled the couch, "Busy with everything and everyone that wasn't me. I'm not as dim as everyone else you bother yourself with, Charles. Who do you think you're fooling?"
"No one." Charles said with a frown, taking one more step to the side, mirroring Erik's move.
"It's pointless to lie to me, Charles. I would advise against it, to save you time." Erik stated matter-of-fact, stopping in their dance to simply glower at the telepath across their small barrier. He could simply levitate the metal frame of the couch and smash it through the window, should he wish. But that would ruin the game. And how Erik *loved* playing games against Charles, the only worthy opponent. He caught Xavier's gaze straying to the locked door, the only escape from the small library. A hidden alcove in the Xavier manor.
Charles knew all the hidden places. Unfortunately for him, so did Erik.
"I'm not lying." Even as Charles said it, he knew Erik could tell. They both knew the words were a bold faced lie. And Xavier was avoiding Lansherr's gaze again, baby blues shifting up to the ceiling, then down to his hands. Fingers nervously fumbling with each other.
Again. Adorable. But Erik needed to refocus the game. He didn't appreciate this whole avoiding thing Charles had going against him.
Erik sighed, leaning forward on the side of the couch, grinning slightly as Charles leaned slightly back. Lansherr drawled, "You can try for the door, but you'll never make it."
That drew the telepath's attention, beautiful blues riveted to enticing brown, that knowing smirk making dark promises that made Xavier's knees weak.
"...what?" Charles asked offhandedly, throat suddenly dry. He felt like he was parroting the question, suddenly understanding how a mouse would feel under a cobra's gaze. Frozen, as though all routes of escape were already lost.
"You can try." Erik smilingly obliged, his gaze darkening as he leaned forward, overcast by his sharp brow as he tilted slightly downward to meet Charles' wavering gaze, "But... you will. Not. Make it."
Xavier forced his parched throat to function as he cleared his throat, "I could if used my immeasurable ability to freeze you solid on the spot."
"As could I, Charles. I see you have your favored cuff links today. Metal, aren't they? Among other things." Lansherr chuckled, tilting his head sideways as he concluded, "Even as you've graciously limited your own abilities in our little game, I don't think bringing mines into play would be very fair, now would it?"
Charles chuckled, even as he felt his options dwindling, "Indeed. Touché Erik. Brilliantly played."
He took a moment to adjust his collar, straightening his sleeves even as he decidedly did NOT take off the cuff links, "Now what is it you wanted to talk about?"
"Cute, Charles. Really. But you know what it is I want to hear."
Charles frowned, managing to look puzzled as he leaned back on the back of his heels, hands shoved in his pockets to hide their nervous twitches, "Do I?"
"Cat got your tongue? Never thought I'd live to see the day Charles Xavier at a loss for words." Erik, likewise, stood back. Momentarily relinquishing his position against the armrest of the couch. Much to Charles' hidden relief. Proximity was definitely a dangerous factor with the metal manipulator. It was almost as if Erik generated his own heat, at least more than normal. Or maybe it was just due to his own, fatal attraction to the devilishly handsome man.
"My friend, I am never at a loss for words. I can tell you anything you want to hear." Charles Xavier grinned dashingly, a feat that swooned many men and women alike, and one that managed to drag a tilted grin on the darker haired man's chiseled features. Charles strolled casually along the length of the couch, daring to get closer to the other, "I can tell you how good of a strategist you are. How amazing your talent is growing with each passing day. How many acres this Manor actually occupies." Charles stopped at the edge of the couch, keeping the corner between them, enjoying how much darker Lansherr's gaze became as he drew nearer, tracking the telepath's every move as though in memorization.
Charles paused, to run his finger slowly across the top of the couch, feeling the heat of Lansherr's intense gaze as he lowered his voice, his own eyes on the fuzzy surface, following his manicured nail, "I can tell you, just..." His finger trailed closer and closer to the metal bender, who had absentmindedly placed his own fist on the juncture of the armrest while the other pressed decidedly against the corner, leaning his weight forward, "how many hairs..." Charles' finger trailed centimeters from Erik's tense knuckles, pausing at the corner of the couch, to glance up at Erik through lowered lashes, "are standing at edge right now across your skin..."
Erik met his gaze with one hot enough to melt the ice. He was so still Charles doubted the man even took a breath. Xavier knew he was playing with fire. But he couldn't help it. He leaned closer, more daring still as he gave a small grin, whispering, "But I cannot... and will not... confide with you the one thing you believe you would like to hear."
There was a stillness between them. Erik's breath was shaky, their faces and bodies so close the couch was almost nonexistent. Charles forced himself away with a small laugh, ordering his tense muscles to relax as he drew back, "But with everything else, fair game."
Taking a step back was almost physical agony, as Charles turned away, shrugging casually, "So fire away, Lansherr. What would you like to hear?"
He had barely taken two steps.
Suddenly he was shoved against the back of the couch, bent arms keeping himself upright against the top of the cushions, front pressed full against the hard lines of a shivering metal bender.
The movement had been so fast, a breath was like an afterthought. Charles was so confident, so daring one moment, only to be reduced to a frozen mass, anxiously awaiting what move Lansherr would pull next. Erik took his time to inhale deeply, the earthy and book scent of the telepath before him. He had his own, muscled arms on either side of the tantalizing, curly haired man's suited hips. It was his turn to shutter his heated gaze on the frozen man trapped before him, his growl near rabid as he nipped huskily, "You play a dangerous game, Charles. I don't want to hear anything, really, other than what sounds I can make slip past those lips of yours." He enjoyed the hitch of that blue eyed wonder, catching those orbs flicker uncertainly to Erik's own lips, before leaning back as Charles looked warily back up at his dark, smoldering gaze.
"The only sound you'll hear from my lips is NO." Charles murmured disapprovingly, leveling Erik with a hardened gaze.
"Oh really?" Lansherr smirked, unperturbed, "Care to test that theory, Professor?"
"Not really, no- mmf!"
Kissing was supposed to be an art. The fine meddling of two lips joined as one. On multiple occasions, with women and men, Charles had always been the aggressor. He would never allow another to dominate him. It wasn't quite a weakness, so much as a preference.
Being kissed by this man, however, was vastly different.
Being kissed by Erik Lansherr was like being consumed by fire.
Charles felt like he was melting on the spot. Those hardened lips devoured his like the man was starved. Xavier sagged against the couch, his arms nor legs able to support his weight under the onslaught. It wasn't until he felt the smirk on Erik's lips that he even realized what was happening.
On compulsion, something completely against his principles, Charles took control of Lansherr's mind and body and forced him back.
It wasn't until he saw the metal manipulator slammed full force back against the book case that he realized he might have overdone it.
Just a bit.
Lansherr looked probably as stunned as Xavier just then. Though the affect was ruined by the swollen kissable lips and that fair dusting of crimson across his cheeks Charles' cheeks.
"Bravo, Charles." Erik chuckled, clapping his hands as he took a step forward, "Excellent use of your extraordinary talents."
Sensing what the man was up to next, Charles frowned, hand extended as though to stop him, "Erik Lansherr, don't you dare-"
Before Xavier could stop him, Erik growled, "*MY* turn."
Then suddenly the air was forced out of Charles' lungs, as every piece of metal he wore was used to yank him the few feet forcefully into Erik's waiting arms. Muscled arms that immediately wrapped to trap the slimmer of the two against Lansherr's chest.
"Erik-" Charles had a brief second to protest.
Then Erik was all over him. Unlike before, when Charles at least had a few measurements of space, there was virtually none here in the metal manipulator's arms. Every single inch was encompassed by the heat that was purely Erik. Charles' breath hitched when Erik melded their bodies, hooked arm encircling lower on Xavier's back, leaving nothing to the imagination through their layers of clothes. This was Lansherr's plan. To get Charles so overwhelmed with sensation, that he couldn't use his powers, even if he wanted to.
When Charles denied him entry past his clenched lips, Erik growled, dexterous tongue muscling its way in, exploring Charles' depths like he was mining for gold. Charles whimpered in the face of Lansherr's strong will and forceful nature. He could hardly deny Erik at times before, relenting to the typhoon that was Erik Lansherr, a storm front that could not be stopped. How could he in the face of this dark hunger? Something that had clawed its need deep inside Charles himself.
He wanted Erik.
So badly.
With all his body, heart and soul.
Now he was getting the first taste of just how much Erik wanted him as well.