Disclaimer: I do not own x-men first class. If i did...well, there would be a LOT more slash. Just sayin'.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews! :) They keep me writing. By the way, sorry about messing up Erik's origin, in all honesty I've only seen X-men first class and the 1st and 2nd film, so sorry for my limited or misunderstood knowledge. I'm going to start reading the comics soon. :)
Main Pairing: Charles/Erik. I just want to make that clear before things really start to heat up in this story and no one realized this was total slash.
Erik doubted if the man would remember any of this night. He leaned heavily on Erik's side, twitching slightly when he had to step down the curb or when he had to walk up the stony stairs to Erik's temporary room. He was mumbling all the way, jumbled nothings about a woman and needles and how this blood tasted really horrid…Erik couldn't help but smirk at that one. Slowly he opened the door to his room, the man could barely even stand now. Erik led him over to the bed, where he then proceeded to carefully lay the broken man down, careful of his new bandages and recently received stitches. He made sure the pillow was propped up properly, and he began to remove the man's bloodied jacket.
"What's your name?" He asked quietly, all the while gingerly slipping the man's trembling hands through the sleeves of his dark jacket.
"M-my name," The man in questioned swallowed heavily, slumping forward, his head banging rather roughly onto Erik's shoulder. The man took a deep shuddering breath before whispering: "My name is Charles Xavier. It's a pleasure to meet you." It was then that Charles Xavier lost his sense of consciousness, body following suit of his head and falling onto Erik. The man wasn't entirely sure of what to do, so he just let this wanted telepath rest up against him for a while.
When the warmth of physical contact had been dispelled for an hour or so Charles awoke with another splitting headache. He shot up in bed, the springs creaking and he swayed dizzily as he through off the sheets that covered him. He froze then, noticing that the sheets smelled of spice and clove, while his own just smelled like clean vanilla. Where was he? Cautiously he rose from the bed, looking around in the darkened room, his eyes having yet to adjust to the dark. He needed to get back to Raven. What the hell was going on, anyway? He felt out in front of him, hands outstretched as he moved with deliberate patience. He assumed he was near the door, judging at the slightly white block before him, but as his hand clasped around the knob something grabbed his wrist. Startled he froze, feeling a tall body pressed against his back. The grip on his wrist tightened.
"Where are you going, Charles?" That voice sounded familiar, and the sweet smell of cinnamon and cologne filled his nostrils.
"Erik?"
"Where are you going?" Erik repeated, stepping closer to the smaller man, who really shouldn't be up right now. Charles swallowed, head turning to look over his shoulder at the frustrated man behind him. His eyes narrowed.
"Where are we?" Erik sighed, the hand around Charles' wrist pulling gently as he turned the mind reader carefully around to face him. The blue in Charles' eyes stood out dramatically in the dark, and for an instant Erik felt like he was drowning in them.
"Erik-"
"You don't remember anything?" Charles' mouth closed, and his eyes darted tiredly around.
"It may be best to refresh my memory."
"How did you find me?" Erik turned his gaze from the window and cracks in the wall to stare at Charles yet again. Slowly, Erik raised a finger, and began tapping it deliberately slow on his temple.
"You were in here the whole time." Silence fell then, thick and heavy, and Charles felt a twinge of embarrassment. This man had seen him when he was weak. It was slightly awkward. He shifted some, the sheets moving under his weight.
"Ah. I see. Well thank you, my friend, for saving me." The blue-eyed man was smiling now, his eyes gleaming and Erik turned away his gaze. He didn't deserve a smile as innocent and pure as that.
"How's your head?"
"It hurts, tender." Charles concluded, fingers lightly flittering around the top of the semi-blood torn bandages.
"It was foolish of you to walk around so late at night." Erik reprimanded, catching Charles' attention once more. The telepath shrugged his shoulders lazily, and that simple gesture irked Erik. "You could have been killed." Charles' gaze turned slowly upward, meeting Erik's with a renewed intensity.
"Believe me, Erik, it's nothing I'm not accustomed to."
"You really shouldn't be walking."
"I need to get back to my sister, remember?"
"Yes. You say that every block."
"No I—I do?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Well…I'm sorry?"
"Why are you apologizing?"
"For repeating everything I'm saying every block. It must be tiring."
"You keep repeating that as well."
"What?"
"Sorry."
"Maybe I really shouldn't be walking." That was the closest moment Erik had ever had to rolling his eyes.
Her hands flew around him frantically, not deciding where the best place to land would be, so after a while her hands fell to her sides and she opted for yelling. That really was helping Charles either, so after about five minutes of Raven turning blue in the face (literally) Erik had to help him over to his bed and rest him down.
"…And I DON'T understand how I CAN'T go walking around during the DAY, but YOU can in the middle of the NIGHT!" Charles couldn't help but groan, his fingers kneading gentle circles across his temples, and he couldn't help but hear Erik's amused laughter echoing softly in his head. He frowned.
Please my friend; explain to me the humor in this situation.
I just have never seen you in so much pain.
She's giving me a headache…
Ah. Interesting. Her screeching is worse than almost being beaten to death.
Charles couldn't help the grin.
"Not to mention you brought home some STRANGER and you're practically DEAD!" Now the two men turned their attention to Raven, who by this point in her cascade was beginning to breathe rather heavily. Erik stood, stepping away from where Charles rested on the bed, and let his eyes travel over Raven's body. The blue had returned to her skin, her anger making her concentration waver.
"You are Charles' sister?" Her gaze was burning.
"Who the hell are you?" Erik hears Charles shift from behind him, hears him sigh.
"Raven-"
"My names Erik Lensherr." Her brown eyes studied the tall man before her; yellow swirling in its depths, and her gaze darted from Charles to Erik.
"Charles how is THIS saf-?"
"Relax, Raven. He's a mutant too. He saved me, actually." Charles sounded tired, so Erik concentrated to steal all this girl's anger away from the failing telepath and direct it to a more sturdy source…like him, for example. Raven's gaze softened some at that, and for the next fifteen minutes Erik showed them his gift, Raven's jewelry turning into all sorts of hypnotic designs and shapes. When Erik was finished and Raven was calmer they both stole a glance at Charles: he was asleep and breathing sound.
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