A/N-Introducing jealous!Erik, because why not?

Erik sighed, looking out of the window. He didn't feel like concentrating on another stupid lecture. Well, his mind was diverted anyways. Almost as if Charles was a telepath, just, always present in his mind.

It was hard to believe that this was the same old Charles. What the fuck happened to him? Not that Erik wouldn't agree that this Charles was totally begging him to take him against the lockers, but Erik liked the old Charles nonetheless. Maybe he just liked shorter, adorable people with stupid, floppy brown hair and electric blue eyes and British accents. (Or maybe that was just Charles?) Also, maybe he was a bit, just a teeny, tiny bit sapiosexual. And it was already hard to endure when Charles looked like a dork, with big sweaters, and even bigger glasses.

But now here was Charles, somewhy, dressed to kill, and chatting with girls, and calling Erik darling of all things, and Erik wasn't sure how to react.

He snapped back to reality when he saw said subject of torture on the field below. He must be having a free period. Even with the open window, Erik couldn't listen to what Charles and the ugh, group of girls were talking about, because he was on the third floor. Whatever.

The group stopped, and Charles had his back towards Erik. The girls were staring at him, surprised by something he'd said, Erik guessed. Charles shoved his hands in his pockets, rolling on his heels and shrugging his shoulders. Erik could almost see his sheepish grin in his mind.

And then, he could almost hear the girls screaming, what sounded like Charles!? And while Charles nervously (Erik knew he did that when he was nervous) scratched his head, one of the blondes fainted, and fell down on top of Charles. Erik clenched his fists, watching helplessly as Charles stumbled for his balance, and then helped the chick, dragging her to the nurse, probably.

Erik sighed. Great! Charles probably had time for the whole school, but him. He had been trying to talk to Charles for the two whole days, but in vain. Ever since Charles had this "makeover" of his, he somehow turned into an overnight celebrity.

He was almost successful once yesterday, when he found Charles in front of him while he was drifting half-asleep from one damned classroom to another.

"Oh, hello, Erik," Charles happily greeted him, with wide eyes, and a wide smile.

"Charles," was all Erik managed to get out, before a group of girls came, all Ooh Charles! Ohh Charles! grabbed him by each of his arms, and dragged him away, laughing and giggling, and Charles was blushing and he shot an apologetic look towards Erik, and all Erik did was stare and frown. And then frown some more.

There was something Erik had really wanted to say.

Then there was today, during lunch, when he found himself behind Charles in the line.

"Charles!" Erik bit his tongue before he said something stupid like fancy seeing you here, or come here often?

Charles turned towards him, and Erik could see the realization washing over his face. Charles broke into a wide grin, and his eyebrows shot up.

"Well, hello again, my friend," Charles smiled, to which Erik smiled back. But okay, fine, there was this tiny hint of disappointment he felt. What? No more darlings, were they?

"So, how's everything going?" Erik asked lamely, instead of saying what he had planned on saying.

Charles huffed out a laugh, "…different, I'd say."

Damnit Lehnsherr! Just ask him already!

"Oh, okay." He took a silent breath as Charles filled his tray.

Ask him. Erik Lehnsherr. Ask him.

"So Charles…will you, um. You know, uhh," Erik gritted his teeth. "Will you help me with the Math homework?"

Awesome.

He saw Charles frowning, but maybe that was amusement? Erik picked up something absently for his tray, ignoring Charles, avoiding his eyes.

"Of course I would, love," Charles said, and okay, maybe this wasn't such a vain attempt now, was it? Erik smiled up to him, and was about to ask him to join his table, (and say what he really wanted to say,) but then, a group of boys walked up to them. And they too, all Ooh Charles! Ohh Charles! somehow managed to pull Charles away towards their own table.

Charles shot back a small "goodbye!" to Erik.

Erik didn't understand what was wrong with him. He never got nervous around people. He never stammered. He was never left speechless. And he certainly did not ask help for Math homework when he wanted someone to come to the dance with him.

The annual dance was literally around the corner, and even with the stupid theme the headmaster had come up with this time, Erik was actually looking forward to it. (Now, not because of the theme; be true to yourself, children, and dress up like the one you admire, the one you want to become, your inspiration, your future self, anything, kids! Erik knew that all the students had mentally signed a petition to kill Mr. Paul then and there. This was the Annual Dance, not a fancy dress competition! Oh, and that's when Mr. Paul even announced awards for the best dressed, and everyone lost it.)

This was their last year together, and Erik really had wanted to ask Charles out. He wasn't sure how to do it, but the dance seemed like a good idea. But that's when Charles decided to become Tom Cruise, and suddenly become very busy and popular, giving Erik no chance to seek him out.

He sighed again. Where was Charles now when Erik needed him to walk into him? Hell, he'd even dress up in drag, some ginger wig and laced stockings, if that meant that Charles would just talk to him. (Maybe not, though.)

Charles' blue-eyed charms didn't pardon the teachers either. Charles, who was so humble, and so polite, and so hard-working, and so adorable, and now, so pretty too. All the female teachers went Ooh Charles! Ohh Charles! Even the male ones asked for his opinions, and talked to him during class, going all Okay, Xavier? and What do you think, Xavier? They all had started to excuse him, and pardon him, and even let him sleep in class once! And it was just two days since Charles-the-Oxford-boy had become Charles-the-Made-in-Brazil-model.

Erik gritted his teeth again. And why did Charles have to be so nice and reply back so properly? Why did he have to smile and nod, and greet them, and answer all their questions, and know everything, inlcuding the mass of the sun, and the depth of the Pacific?

The only teacher who seemed to be unaffected was Mr. Logan. But then again, truly speaking, Mr Logan never seemed to be affected by anything that went around him. So that's why when he was discussing the rules if integrating logarithmic and exponential functions, Erik thought it was a good idea to pass a note to Charles. And please, Charles was going to help him with the homework (Erik rolled his eyes at his stupidity), even if he didn't pay attention to the Math class, (which was, by the way, the last class of the day, and everyone was too damned tired to focus on it anyways. Well everyone except Charles.)

Mr Logan had superhuman senses, Erik was sure of it now, because there is no way someone could even see Erik passing the small note. The grumpy man took long strides, and snatched the piece of paper just before it reached Charles, muttering "okay, gimme that, bub."

He read the note, and Erik banged his head on desk, not wanting to see his reaction. He didn't raise his head, even when Logan called him out.

"Lehnsherr! Xavier! Detention after class."