"Charles..." Erik was momentarily speechless. He was struck with an equal sense of awe and sadness. An overwhelming flood of, what was that, love? Could it truly be...?

Lansherr started laughing.

Charles, hurt, frowned and stated sharply, "I am glad I could confide my fears with you, Erik Lansherr. Thank you for showing me your true nature."

"Charles, no you misunderstand. You... Are you really...? Of losing me?"

"I've seen how you work. I sleep with you and you forget about me in the morning." Charles hedged, wary, "That's how it's been with every single person you've slept with, no matter the amount or the length of time, whether it's an hour, a day, or a week."

"...you kept track?" At Charles' irked silence, Lansherr explained, "I am touched, Charles."

"Good. I'm glad. Now that we've embarrassed me enough, will you kindly let go?"

Erik's jovial nature disappeared in a heartbeat. He growled, "Never."

Charles was taken aback at the possessive tone.

"You have eluded me for far too long, Charles. When I said you misunderstood, I meant it. You want to know why I had to fuck so many people? To stop from thinking about you. For wanting *YOU* Charles." Erik paused to take in the shocked look on Xavier's face. His steely eyes traveled with a burning gaze down, then back up Charles' body, pulled close to his own, "But I can't stop, Charles. Thinking. You have been ingrained into every thought, every movement I've had, since the day you dove into the water and saved me. Even with revenge on my mind, you have been at the forefront. If you have any doubts just look. You have unrestricted access. Go ahead, Charles."

Xavier was floored.

Lansherr had a resilience about him that blocked even some of Charles momentary slip ups to delve into the thoughts of others. To actually have permission...

"I don't know Erik. This is not something done lightly..."

"Charles, you threatened to make me think I was some 12 year old girl-"

"Seven." Charles corrected.

"-and you're afraid of getting your feet wet mucking around in my head?"

Charles bristled, "I'm not afraid of that."

Erik pulled him closer, 'til there was scarcely any breath between them, hissing with clenched jaw, "Then DO it, Charles Xavier."

Charles frowned.

"Before I change my mind..." Erik warned.

Erik really knew how to push his buttons. The temptation to explore that hidden depth was just too much. More tantalizing than Xavier's want to stay in the safe confines of friendship.

"You asked for it." Charles groused, fingers raised to his temple.

Erik merely grinned, sensing another victory near.

Charles entered.

And it was like his whole world was aflame.

Want. Need. Desire.

And all for Charles Xavier himself.

He saw a stream of jumbled images. All of himself. Erik watching him.

The first time he touched Erik's mind. A tumult of 'let go's' among the torrent and rush of water. Lansherr's first image of him, obscured by the deep water that threatened to claim him.

Erik's first thought: 'Is he an angel?'

Lansherr's anger as soon as they rose above the water. Anger that Shaw had gotten away. Overridden only by the breathtaking sight of a wet Charles. Erik thought he was dreaming.

In the carrier, both wrapped in damp towels, Erik ignored the beauties that were Moira and Raven, too consumed by the dark haired beauty that had rescued him. The only one daring enough to brave the dark waters, and pull him to safety. Charles was busy rubbing salt water out of his hair, but Erik just kept staring.

At some point, Charles noticed, and gave a shy smirk, thinking the other mad at him. But he sensed something more from Erik, just... refused to see it.

Fast forward to the night he tried to leave. The way Charles stood there, so forlorn. He didn't want Erik to go. Erik knew this. And was almost stubborn enough to leave anyway. But didn't.

Not when he snuck near Charles' window that night and saw the curly-haired youth with a poor pillow in a strangle hold. Sobbing. He knew there was something between them. Knew there was more than Charles let on.

For the first time, Erik put his need to go after Shaw on the back burner, curious as to where this path led.

The night at the strip club, music pumping, feminine bodies gyrating to the beat, dancing enticingly. But Erik kept sneaking peaks at the silent telepath beside him. Watching him like a hawk. Trying to figure out what his type was and getting jealous all the same. When they had Angel in the private booth, all he wanted to do was kick her out and have the bed all to themselves.

Their hands brushed reaching for the same glass, and Erik could've sworn he saw a blush blossom on that innocently wise face. But it was too dark to tell, and Charles had turned away too fast. Little had he known just how fast Xavier's heart beat at that quick touch. How he would have ravaged him then and there had he known.

Riding in the back of the cab with Darwin, Charles had inexplicably fallen asleep on Erik's broad chest, snoring away like the adorable mutt he was. Lansherr brushed his brown curls out of his face, staring at those entirely kissable lips. Darwin made a sound in the front seat, and Erik glared at him through the rear view mirror.

"Dude, didn't see a thing." Darwin said with raised hand.

"That's right you didn't..." Erik growled dangerously.

Charles pulled back to the present, breathless as though he had run a marathon.

"There's more..." Erik said softly. Urging. Promising.

Charles obliged, delving back in.

Dinner with the new recruits. Meeting with Moira and the CIA. And Erik only had eyes for him. He had only returned that night for fear of what the humans would do to him. To take advantage of Charles' naive belief they would all get along.

One of their nights of chess. The way Charles sat with his leg crossed open just so. Hand on his favorite drink of the night. Gin tonic. The game was at a stalemate. Erik just needed a diversion to win.

"Personally, I think men are more beautiful creatures than women." Erik stated matter-of-fact-ly.

Charles spewed his drink, uncrossing his legs to hunch forward and cough, "I'm sorry?"

"Don't tell me you don't agree, Charles." Erik grinned, moving his piece.

Charles was looking, lost, into his half-empty glass. At war, seemingly, with something within.

"Your move, Charles." Erik prompted, not knowing just how sinful he looked in his long-sleeved midnight black turtleneck and tight gray slacks.

Charles swallowed, "Of course."

Needless to say Erik won that match, but daresay wished he had won something much more.

The blinding anger of the metal bender as he controlled the iron bed rails to twist tighter and tighter, cracking the diamond skin of Shaw's precious right hand woman. Nothing and no one ever got through to him when he saw so much red. She had stopped him. When he could have killed Shaw SHE just had to be there.

Then there was that voice.

"*Erik* that's ENOUGH!"

Erik blinked, wrenched back to himself, fury curbed.

'Charles...?' He questioned, recognizing the man through all the boiling madness. Never before had anything brought him back. Not 'til his anger was spent. 'Til something was destroyed, or lay twisted and dying.

The diamond woman was lucky.

"Something tells me she won't be transforming back to diamond form again." Erik growled lowly, though his mind was reeling. How had Charles done that? How had he *reached* him? Made him stop. No one could ever do that. No one. So how had he...? Erik shook the thought, "And if she does, give her a gentle tap."

He couldn't bear the disapproval in Xavier's eyes, and so had left.

How he hated to disappoint the telepath.

Charles saw how Erik looked at him, how he FELT the moment he opened up the brightest corner of Lansherr's mind. Didn't realize that hadn't quite been it. It was second only to the first time they had met, in the dark embrace of the water. How Erik cried not because of the memory, but because of how close Charles had been to discovering it.

Erik LOVED him.

And it frightened Lansherr to no end.

When he had turned the enormous satellite, Erik simply kept thinking how amazing Charles was. How understand and caring. And giving.

And how Erik wished he could give just as much, if not more, back.

Charles rushed back to his body, mind reeling and feeling slightly dizzy. The feel of Erik clouded his senses, the man an emotional storm of desire and pain. He couldn't believe it. This must be a dream. The one man, the one person he wanted...

Wanted him back.

"Charles," Erik pleaded, for once sounding hesitant. Afraid. He released Xavier's collar to grip his shoulders, holding him firmly, "Charles, please I... I need to hear it..."

"Erik..." Charles was touched. This man, this arrogant, selfish man, was asking him for reassurance. Had laid his soul bare. How could Charles refuse. Charles grinned, his voice just as soft, "Of course, Erik. I love you too."

And a smile brighter than the sun itself lit up Erik Lansherr's face.

It warmed Charles to his very core, but there was still a hint of fear curled up in the corner of his mind. Sensing this, Erik ducked his head, chasing the dark glint hiding in the back of the telepath's eye, "What is it, Charles?"

"I still… it's just… as I said before Erik…" Charles had trouble meeting his gaze. Everything he saw, everything he felt. It was so *real*. So touching. But he was human. And was afraid of letting the one person he could, get so close, when there was a possibility of-

"Well, spit it out then." Erik, ever the patient one, demanded.

Charles frowned, meeting that dark gaze as he admitted, "I don't want to start this, and then lose it. Lose you."

The realization struck Erik like a physical thing. And he was speechless. But the man was not known to let the one thing he wanted most slip through his fingers. Not if he could help it.

With the grace of a panther, the metal bender pulled the worried telepath in his arms, trapping him bodily against him. Charles started, feeling the calm and stubborn determination flow easily from that muscled form.

Some would call it foolhardy.

But those eyes spoke differently.

Erik was a survivor of the camps, defender of their kind, unshakeable and stubborn to a fault. He never let anyone close enough within to make him fall.

But fall he did.

For Charles Xavier, Erik had fallen.

Hard.

And with a deep promise, one born out of confidence, a hint of fear, and all of Erik Lansherr, the dark haired man growled, "You won't."

Against all odds, Charles believed him. The road ahead would be difficult. Rocky would be an understatement when describing a relationship with this man. But if there was one thing about Erik that Charles knew, it was this:

Erik Lansherr NEVER broke a promise.

With a hopeful heart, Charles smiled. His heart soared as Erik smiled back.

"Now let's shag." Erik grinned.

"Erik!" Charles admonished, his tone saying it all: 'way to break the moment'.

"What?" Erik shrugged, all innocence, "Don't tell me you weren't thinking it too. Don't need to be a damn telepath to know what you need."

Charles frowned, "And what is that?"

Erik swooped in for a kiss. And because he was Erik, Charles let him. In fact, he rather melted right into those smartly dressed arms.

When Erik pulled back, allowing Charles room to breath and thoroughly enjoying the dazed look on the curly haired man's face, Erik said simply and smugly, "Me."

Charles chuckled, breathing out, "I couldn't agree more, my friend."