For the moment, a lull had swept over the building. The roar of the fire and the sound of clinking chess pieces filled the room with a warm and pleasant atmosphere. The two close friends sat in a pair of cosy armchairs, at opposite sides of the chessboard situated in the middle of the room. They were engaged in one of their infamous chess games, and, the way it seemed to be going, Charles was winning.
Erik looked up at his friend, trying to work out his next move with an intense gaze, an encouraging smirk on his face. Charles picked up one of his knights, knocking down a bishop that had wandered into the horse's path. He sat back with smug satisfaction, watching the other man with anticipation. Erik rested his head in his hands.
'Your strategy is as... unorthodox... as your way with words–and don't you try that again.'
Charles lowered his hand from his hair, chuckling.
'Don't get so upset, I was merely scratching an itch.'
'Of course.'
'Like my way with words, my ability to play fair is limitless.'
'Your words may be pretty, but they are seldom well-chosen,' Erik mused, referring to Hank's outing.
'Then it's fortunate for me that you are a man of action, my friend,' replied the smaller man with a mischievous smile.
'Ah, that's right...'
Gazing into Charles' bright blue eyes, Erik found himself lost in them. The unconventional thoughts that were normally kept well hidden in his head (for very good reason) had finally come out to play. Ever since he'd met the extraordinary man in those cold, dark waters; first felt the tendrils of that brilliant mind seep into his own and save his life, he knew that he'd found someone special. He was not alone anymore. Charles was a fellow mutant and a kindred soul, the reason he had stayed behind, a man with whom he would gladly spend his days. He would gladly protect this man from the troubles of the world, keeping him safe from the cruelty towards his kind that Erik knew all too well the homosapiens were capable of.
A possessive growl rumbled quiet but deep in his chest.
'Erik? Are you feeling quite alright?'
Charles noticed his chess partner's distracted thoughts in the air. He looked the other man in the eye, sensing an unfathomable emotion surfacing even without using his powers.
Erik remained silent.
Charles made to subtly drift his hand up to his head, in the pretence of flicking a strand of hair from his face...
'Don't!'
Erik leant across the chess board with haste, toppling the pieces, pulling Charles' hand away from his forehead and clasping it in his own. They both stopped, staring into each other's eyes. Time stood still for a moment, and then Erik, ever the man of action, made a move. A pair of lips met tentatively, each man hesitant that the other should pull away, but neither one attempted, and the kiss grew deeper still.
At long last Erik pulled back with a sucking gasp, leaving Charles flushed and surprised. Charles blinked in heavy-lidded bewilderment, for once completely devoid of thought. He tried to find the words...
'Groovy,' he gasped, licking swollen lips.
What a fascinating man...
Clasping the neck of Erik's jumper in his hands, he pulled the taller man back into a kiss.
At first Erik was surprised, but he quickly gave over to feeling and sentiment, pushing Charles up against an antique set of drawers and doing something he hadn't dared to wish for.

It was all a bit like chess, really.

And judging by Charles' later breathless and completely satisfied state, Erik had won.