A/N: Yet another Tumblr drabble, but this was anonymously given. The prompt: "The reproachful look Raven gave him made Erik have a sinking suspicion about what she really knew."

He tries to be subtle. Very, very subtle, because he doesn't quite want anyone to know yet.

So Erik does little things; the smallest of things, really, because he isn't trying to get figured out, but if Charles knows, then that's fine, because it's Charles that he's being subtle with, and, well, you can't keep secrets from a telepath anyhow, because if they want to know, they can pick your brain and then big-bang-boom, all your secrets are theirs. It's risky — dangerous, even — but Erik likes the thrill of it.

So he works minutely; a glance here, a brush of the fingertips of arm there, a touch on the hand or shoulder, or even a pat on the knee, all to be closer to Charles, all to be subtle with his feelings. Honesty is also a key, so Erik tires to be as honest as possible, keeping his face as open as he can manage it to be, and only when around the telepath. He smiles more, laughs more, and he permits Charles to see it.

He lingers more, sends looks more often, but he slips and Raven sees it.

It's during dinner one night at the mansion. Charles is leaning over and speaking to Alex, and Erik lets his eyes pan over to Charles' hand, braced on the edge of the table. His own fingers twitch; he's never been in love, never had time for pleasantries, and he would like to know what it's like to hold someone's hand. He clenches his own into a fist, clears his throat, and with one last loving, longing sideways glance at his host, he adverts his gaze.

Except that gaze lands him in Raven's territory, and her peach-disguised face sends him a reproachful look, as if she noticed all that, and Erik's stomach churns, and he comes down with the sinking suspicion that sheknows. Knows that he isn't interested in her, knows that he is only trying to get her on his side because she's useful and in need of a confidence boost, and knows that he's actually…

"Excuse me," the metalbender says abruptly, standing from the table. Charles' eyes immediately fix themselves on Erik's glasz ones, and Erik can't help but to feel smaller despite his height that towers over nearly all of them, and he nods his apologies before exiting the room.

Raven follows him shortly afterward, blonde hair melting into fiery red as she seeks her natural form when around him.

"Erik, you can't walk away from this. I saw that. Just what are you playing at?" she accuses, but not unkindly. On the contrary, she sounds hurt and puzzled, and stops him halfway down the hall in the direction of the library.

"I am not playing at anything, Raven. Go back and finish your dinner."

"I can grab food later. The fridge is always open to me. What I want to know is why you're leading me on when all you want is my brother?" she says slowly, her voice dropping at the end to a softer, more understanding tone. "I can see it in your eyes, and your body language; you love him, don't you? But you're too timid to do anything because you hate being vulnerable, don't want to be hurt or betrayed or rejected, and, like me, some part of you fears society and its views on you, because, in this case, you're homosexual."

"Shut up!" Erik barks, having been walking partially away, but now tensing and spinning around, taking a daring, threatening step back toward her. "You know nothing," he says lowly, menacingly.

She lifts her chin defiantly and folds her pretty blue arms over her pretty blue chest. "I know enough," she returns, her tone unreadable but her octave soft. "So tell me what I don't know, or I will tell you what you should do, and I know how you hate being bossed around." And at this, she smirks a little, Mystique wining out over Raven, the alter-ego like a mask she draws on easily.

Erik laughs at that, his tone bitter. "Yes, I do so hate to be ordered about. So fine, Raven, you win: I'll tell you something. I'll tell you that you're correct on all accounts but one: I don't give a shit what society thinks. But yes, I do love him, and yes, I do fear his reaction, which is why I'm not doing much."

She makes a huffy, scoffing sound. "Hnff. Fuck that, Erik. If there is one person on this planet I know so well that I know them better than I know myself, it's Charles Xavier. And he is even shyer and more unsure than you are, but he cares about you even more. He's happier than I've ever seen him — including when he's been drunk or with a woman — when he's with you. So if I were you? I'd cut the crap and do something."

He watches as she turns sharply on her heel, shifting easily into her favorite blonde form (perhaps how she might have looked if not blue and red-haired?), and saying something he barely catches as she walks away.

"Oh, and don't worry, I won't tell a soul. But if Charles pokes into my head — which I doubt, since he promised he never would, and he is a man of his word — I can't save you there. So you better act fast, Magneto."

And then she's gone, and Erik is left with his thoughts, his bottom lip sliding between his teeth and his eyebrow meeting above his eyes.