The mood in the back of the car was stifling. Raven had taken the passenger seat next to Angel, leaving Erik and Charles the back. Every touch, every glance, was charged. Erik felt like a horny teenager, unable to wait until his parents were out of sight before he started making out with his boyfriend.

It didn't help that Angel and Raven clearly knew something was different. There was a lot of hushed talking and giggling.

"How much do you want to bet they know and have already told Scott and Alex?" Charles murmured, leaning over so that his shoulder pressed against Erik's, a hand resting on Erik's thigh for balance.

Erik huffed a laugh, leaning over to mutter back, "I would lose that bet in a heartbeat, I'm sure. The way these two talk, I'm surprised the whole country doesn't know yet."

Charles chuckled, his eyes sparkling as they met Erik's. "Raven has always had a big mouth. Befriending Angel hasn't helped."

"Throw in Alex and I think we're screwed."

"Hmm, perhaps I should rethink my decision to have them as part of my official detail," Charles mused, a hint of laughter in his voice. "It might interfere with...certain things." His eyes flicked towards the girls then back.

Certain things? So he felt the tension too. Erik kissed him on the nose, enjoying the sudden blush. In as low a voice as he could manage, he said, "No way in hell are they interfering with certain things. They know I'll kill them."

Charles stared at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. "I should find that worrying but I think it's more worrying that I'm finding that a turn on."

"Screw it," he growled. Even as Charles shot him a questioning look, Erik called, "How much longer, Angel?"

Giggling. Lots of it. "Five minutes. I've been taking the shortest routes." More giggling.

Charles shifted so that their bodies were completely pressed together along the side. He looked up, licked his lips and said softly, "Good."

Gottverdammt, Ich will ihn küssen. (Translation: Goddammit, I want to kiss him.)

When the car pulled up to the curb, Erik hardly gave them enough time to say good night to the girls before he and Charles were entering his house. He pushed Charles against the wall, kissing him even as he reached back to kick the door shut. When Erik pulled back for a moment, Charles started to unbutton Erik's coat.

Soon, both their outer winter clothing lay balled up on the couch and they were pressed against the wall, hands wandering. Erik pulled Charles' shirt out of his waistband, wanting desperately to feel his skin. Charles shivered at his touch.

It was only when Erik realized their shirts were on the ground that he thought maybe this was going too fast and he took a step back, putting space between them. Charles tried to follow but Erik put a hand against his chest—heaving, like his own. He shook his head. "Wait."

Charles frowned. "What for?"

"I just…" Ich will das. Aber ich will ihn nicht zu drücken. Werden wir zu schnell? Würde er mir sagen, ob es zu schnell war? Wie kann ich gragen, ohne ihn zu verletzen? (translation: I want this. But I don't want to push him. Are we going too fast? Would he tell me if it was too fast? How do I ask without hurting him?). He couldn't lose Charles, not again. He wasn't sure he'd survive it.

"Erik? What is it?"

Erik took a breath, looked Charles in the eye and asked simply, "Are you sure?"

It took a second for Charles to parse his meaning but then he smiled softly. "Oh, Erik. I've never been more sure."

That was all the answer Erik needed, tugging Charles into the bedroom and pulling him down onto the mattress.

Charles woke slowly, the remnants of a wonderful dream lending themselves to a reluctance to open his eyes. He shifted slightly and his elbow hit something.

Someone?

Charles twisted to his other side and couldn't help the huge smile that spread across his face at the sight of Erik, fast asleep next to him. Erik's hair had flopped into his face and he looked so relaxed, so peaceful, that Charles just stared at him, enjoying the moment. It wasn't often he woke before the agent.

It wasn't long after that that Erik stirred, his body stiffening then his eyes opened, locking onto Charles' as if he'd known Charles had been staring.

"Morning," Charles said softly.

Erik smiled and replied softly, "Morning to you, too."

Then it hit him. His dream? Hadn't been a dream. He'd really had sex with Erik.

Erik kissed him, taking him by surprise, but he returned it almost immediately, tucking his head against Erik's chest after.

"Should've known you'd be a cuddler," Erik murmured into his hair. Charles huffed but there was no real feeling to it.

"Mmm, this is nice," Charles said after a minute.

Erik agreed. "But we do have things to do."

"It's the day after Christmas. Can't things wait a day?"

Erik put a finger under his chin, tilting his head back for another kiss. "I do have a phone call to make but you are more than welcome to stay in bed while I do."

Charles made a face, but rolled onto his back, letting Erik slide out from under the covers. His gaze followed the agent as he bent over to pick something up—his pants. Charles smirked. "You know, I could get used to this view."

Erik shot him a heated look. "Oh, really?" Charles raised an eyebrow and stretched, inviting Erik to follow through on the suggestion. Erik came over, bent over to kiss him. "Tease," he murmured against Charles' lips, "but I do have to make a call. Later. Promise."

"I'm holding you to that," Charles called as Erik left the room, clothes in hand.

He settled back against the pillows, thinking. Last night had been amazing. A true Christmas miracle, despite the fact that Erik was Jewish. A Hanukah miracle? Was there such a thing?

He laughed to himself. He and Erik had just made love, spent the night officially together, and he was wondering about holiday traditions? It was funny, that that was his first thought. He had a sudden flash of want that had nothing to do with sex. He wanted Erik, in his life, forever and always. Charles wanted Erik's gruffness, his bossiness, his dry wit, his walls, his past, his strength, his future…

Charles lounged in bed for a few more minutes, before the cold starting to reach him now that Erik had left. Reluctantly, he slid out of bed, grabbed a pair of pajama pants from his things and pulled them on before making his way down the hall.

Tea.

He needed tea.

Entering the kitchen, he heard Erik talking and debated briefly with eavesdropping. Shrugging, he decided that if he needed to know, Erik would tell him. He hadn't sugarcoated anything yet. After some rummaging and a few minutes wait, Charles had a steaming cup of tea in his hands and the Keurig puttering along as it made Erik's coffee.

Erik walked into the kitchen a couple minutes later, gloriously bare-chested, and smiled as Charles handed him another steaming mug. "Thanks," Erik whispered, then, to the phone, "There has to be a way to change their minds about this."

Charles shot him a questioning look over the rim of his own mug.

"Mason, come on. You know as well as I do that this is a horrible idea." Erik sipped his coffee, leaning his back against the bar. "He'd basically be bait, standing up there."

Bait? Okay, this was sounding more like something he needed to know. "Erik," he whispered. "Is this about me?"

Erik kissed his cheek. "In a sec, babe. So they're just going to go through with this, without asking him and ignoring our input. Am I getting this right?" He sounded pissed. Erik sighed. "Great. Well, I'll do what I can. 'Bye." Erik hung up, set the phone on the counter and ran a hand distractedly through his hair.

"So…?"

"You remember that call I got last night, while we were in line for cocoa?" When Charles nodded, Erik continued, "That was Scott, letting me know the final location for your swearing-in ceremony." He hesitated a moment before continuing, a clear enough reaction to Charles that Erik did not like it, and Charles tensed. "On the mall, at a podium on a makeshift stage."

Well, that didn't sound too bad. Charles said slowly, "But don't they usually take place on the balcony of the White House?"

"Usually, yes. Apparently they've changed their minds for this one."

"Okay, so, fill in the details. Why is this bad?"

"Because they're basically using you as bait to lure Shaw out." Erik's voice was tight with anger at those who made the decision.

Out on the mall.

Bait.

Lure Shaw…out.

Oh

Oh shit.

Shit. The stage…would be open to the crowds. Security couldn't screen them all and he'd be in full view, vulnerable.

Charles felt the color drain from his face. Erik immediately set both their mugs on the counter and pulled Charles close. "It's going to be okay. Shaw might not try anything." But Charles could tell he didn't really believe it. Erik's lips pressed against the top of his head and Charles drew comfort from the tightness of Erik's embrace.

Was anything going to come easily for them?

On the other hand…what if they could finally catch Shaw? That would solve a whole bunch of problems.

After a while, Charles asked, "Can we just stay here? In your house?"

Erik tilted his head up for a kiss. "I wish we could. But you have responsibilities that I would not dream of keeping you from, no matter how much I want to. I will not let anything happen to you, that's a promise, Charles."

Now that, Charles believed. He kissed Erik then headed to shower and get ready for the day.

"I'm not wearing it! You can see it under my shirt!"

"You are not leaving this house without it!"

Charles and Erik stood in the middle of the living room, arguing. In the back of his mind, Charles knew it was a stupid argument but it served as a distraction from the events due to happen tomorrow. He scowled at Erik, hands on his hips, and repeated, "I'm not wearing the vest, Erik."

Erik scowled right back at him and retorted, "I am in charge of your safety tomorrow and you are wearing it, Charles."

"Am not. There's no need and it'll be far too obvious. If we're trying to draw Shaw out—" Erik tried to interrupt but Charles rolled right over him—"which we are, then he needs to think I'm vulnerable and easy to get to. We have had this discussion before and you agreed that me playing bait is necessary."

"Which is exactly what I don't like about this whole thing." Erik sighed, his shoulders drooping. His voice softened, turned slightly pleading. "Damn it, Charles, please just wear the vest."

Charles softened his own voice. "Erik, I'm sorry, but no. I know you're worried about me and I appreciate it but we have to catch Shaw and this is our last chance. He'll be vulnerable, too, trying to get to me."

"Which could be from a distance with a sniper rifle, so you should be wearing the vest," Erik tried again.

"And if he aims for my head? What good will a bulletproof vest do then, hmm?" Charles lifted an eyebrow. Erik ran a hand through his hair, a sign that he didn't know what to do. Charles relented, crossing the room to wrap his arms around the agent, leaning up to kiss him briefly. "I understand your feelings on the matter, but I cannot do as you ask. Wearing a bulletproof vest on the day I take the oath—a very visible vest, under a dress shirt—is a sign that I'm giving in to fear. That's not how I want to start my term. This is Shaw's last chance, I understand that, as well, which will make him desperate and want to act up close rather than far away. When he does, you will be there. That I know for sure."

Erik smiled faintly down at him. "You have a way with words, Charles." He sighed lightly. "Fine. No vest. You win. This one."

Charles grinned and kissed him. "You can always give it to Raven."

"And listen to her grumble about how she can't wear a dress with it? No, thanks." They both laughed and just like that, the tension in the room was gone. Erik dropped onto the couch, tugged Charles down after him and asked, "Want to run through the oath again?"

"Sure. One more time couldn't hurt." Honestly, Charles was more afraid of forgetting the words than of Shaw trying to hurt him. He snuggled in against Erik's chest, feeling that warmth in his chest that was always present when he thought of Erik. Erik's arm wrapped around his shoulders and he started, "I, Charles Francis Xavier, do solemnly swear…"

"…that I will faithfully execute…"

Charles stood on the outdoor stage, in one of the nicest suits he'd ever worn in his life, and faced the judge. The podium and the crowd were on his right. His right hand rested lightly and yet heavily on the Bible the judge held, as he faithfully repeated the oath of office, phrase by phrase. His heart was pounding, both with the seriousness and the weight of the moment but also wondering where Shaw was, if he would act. Surrounding them—but not blocking the crowd's view—were his new and increased security detail as well as members of the White House staff—now his—and an honor guard from the military holding the colors.

There was a faint ripple of movement in the crowd up front, but no one paid it any mind. Charles repeated after the judge, his voice echoing thanks to the microphone on the podium, "the office of President of the United States…"

Someone in the crowd made a noise. A cry went up, wordless.

Charles started to turn towards the crowd, the words dying on his lips as he saw the podium start to tip towards him. His hand slid off the Bible as he took a step back to avoid being hit.

Then he saw the person shoving it. Charles gasped, "Shaw!" and took another step back, the color fading from his face. He's actually here. Oh my god.

A hand wrapped itself around his upper arm and yanked him stumbling backwards. Erik, he thought in a rush of relief. Erik was the only one who would—and had in past—grab him like that.

Shaw lunged forward, reaching for him, metal flashing in the sunlight, with a manic expression on his face.

There came the sound of cloth ripping.

Charles found himself pressed against Erik's chest as the other agents surrounded the pair in a circle. Ignoring the commotion, Erik tilted Charles' head up and asked urgently, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Charles shook his head, unsure and a bit shaken. Erik's hands roamed his body, checking for injuries. Pain flared along his right side and he gasped in pain and surprise, his hands gripping Erik's shirt tightly. Erik swore and pushed Charles' suit jacket aside, mentally shoving his worry to the back of his mind to focus on the wound. A line of blood stood out starkly against the white dress shirt.

His chest tight with concern, Erik snapped, "Somebody get me a bandage!" His hands, though, were gentle as they tugged Charles' shirt out of his waistband and up. Charles' hands tightened and Erik heard the reflexive intake of breath as the cloth rubbed against the wound. "Hang on," Erik murmured.

Alex's voice came from Erik's left and he turned to see the young man holding out gauze and a roll of bandaging. Erik took a piece of gauze first, using it to gently but quickly wipe some of the blood away so he could get a good look. More blood instantly welled up but a sense of relief hit him and he announced, "It's shallow."

The tension in the group dropped in response to the information. The tight band around his own chest loosened in relief. Erik stuffed the used gauze into his coat pocket—Charles made a disgusted noise, which he ignored—and grabbed another piece from Alex, pressing it tight against the wound. Together, Alex and Erik wrapped the bandaging around Charles' stomach.

Done, Alex slipped back into the circle, leaving the two of them alone and out of sight for a moment. Erik pressed his lips to Charles' forehead and murmured, "I'm going to wrap you in bubble wrap so you stop getting injured."

Charles chuckled a little. "Kinky."

"For the record, I was right. You should have worn the vest."

"For the record," Charles grinned, "I was right, too."

Erik looked around. Shaw was being hauled off the stage by a couple of marines, shouting obscenities and threats. Good, he thought. Shaw wouldn't be able to hurt anyone from jail. Thus satisfied that no one was watching, Erik stole a kiss. Charles returned it enthusiastically before pulling away with a smile.

Erik let him go and Charles slipped through the circle of agents and back to the now upright podium. He smiled and waved at the crowd. He leaned over and said brightly into the microphone, "That's something you'll be able to tell your children when they read about it in history books one day. You can tell them you were there when it happened!" The mood changed immediately, lightening as the people out on the lawn laughed. Erik smiled; he really was very good with people.

The judge stepped back up, held out the Bible with a smile. "Do you want to start over or shall we just continue where we left off?"

Charles rested his right hand on the Bible and smiled. "Let's start over, shall we? Make sure it took."

More laughter but the judge started up, "Repeat after me: I, Charles Francis Xavier…"

Charles did not miss one word in the whole oath of office: I, Charles Francis Xavier, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.

As applause broke out upon completion of the last word, Charles glanced over his shoulder, his gaze meeting Erik's, and he smiled. Erik smiled back, pride and love for Charles filling him.

Both Charles and Erik had the same thought in that moment—that they were the luckiest person in the world and they could do anything, so long as they were together.

After all, they did both want the same thing, in the end.

The End.

Thank you so so much, everyone, for reading and favoriting/following and just generally liking my story! It's always so nervewracking to post my fanfics and subject them to opinions besides my own and my sister's. I love all of you for reading this.

It's taken quite a bit longer than I'd imagined to finish and there have been a few twists along the way that I did not foresee. I hope the ending was satisfying.

I'm toying with a sequel idea but for now I'm just going to leave Charles and Erik happy and starting their four years in the White House together.

Also, I apologize to anyone out there who can speak German. I know there are some mistakes but I don't speak it at all and I used Google Translate for it, which is why I put the translation I had intended it to be in parentheses after the German sentence. Hopefully it didn't ruin the reading.

Again, thank you!

Brisingr364