Summary: Across the crowded bar there is a man. Erik doesn't know what makes him different, or even what makes Erik look his way. But he knows, this isn't a stranger to be forgotten. Not when he can knock you down with a single glance.

Author Note: This is a pre-slash story about Erik and Charles.

Scotch, the drink of manliness. And they can keep it, mine's a glass of rose wine thanks.

No Choice but to Hear You

The smoke in the bar was making it difficult for him to see. Or maybe it was just the scotch he had been drinking? Either way, things were starting to become a little hazy. The people around him had been distracting enough at first, but they were simply here to enjoy themselves and once the alcohol had been flowing for a while, they had forgotten about him and turned to each other in their conversations. The subjects of these conversations declining intellectually with every drink.

He didn't mind that the girl next to him kept knocking into him when she laughed. The contact was oddly reassuring. It told him that it didn't matter that he wasn't a part of her entertainment tonight, but that she didn't mind him being a spectator. There was a lipstick mark on his glass, where she had helped herself earlier. Erik stared at it for a moment. Over the rim of the glass he had a view of the door, and had been watching it for a while, considering leaving as soon as his drink was finished and he still had a body that was listening to his head.

Erik drank the last of his scotch, the taste still as good as the first glass, and when he looked back up, there he was. His hand was holding the door open for the pretty blonde girl, who replied to his kind attention with a bright smile. They walked together until they disappeared into the crowd, and then reappeared at the bar.

His pale face was slightly obscured by his brown hair, which fell into his eyes as he looked down into his jacket pocket for his wallet. The blonde girl wrapped her arm around him and whispered something to him. He looked up at her, and Erik could see the side of his face as he smiled at her. Erik watched him order his drinks; every move was calm and at odds with the people around him, who seemed to insist upon shouting.

All the while the blonde girl talked to him. As the people around him moved, Erik could see him clearer, and the expression on the young man's face as he looked at the blonde girl was full of love. He hung on every one of her words, and barely even looked away to pay the bartender.

She pushed the hair that was falling into his face away with a gentle touch, before collecting her drink. As she moved, his eyes followed her until they travelled past her.

The young man looked at Erik, his eyes were blue and seemed to make everything else on his face fade away. Erik had not expected him to look his way, and the sudden shock of connection almost made him forget how to breathe. The glass in his hand shook, the liquid vibrating causing little ripples on the surface. Erik felt as if he'd been kicked in the chest, and he couldn't remember anything.

The room around him disappeared. Nothing mattered apart from this man before him, and the people stepping in and out of his eye-line were as substantial as shadows. Erik couldn't have moved even if he had wanted to. He was caught, his mind frantically racing to make sense of what he was feeling. He stared as if seeing something he had no right to have witnessed, and the longer he stared, the stranger's blue eyes seemed to find every one of his darkest secrets. All of which caused his heart to painfully beat without a rhythm.

The seconds took eternity to pass, but when the blonde girl stepped forward and obscured the young man from view, the spell broke. Erik lost his gaze and the room suddenly rushed back to him, the voices growing louder and louder as if he was being pulled through a tunnel. When he was released from his sudden fascination, he realised that barely any time had passed at all. The girl at his side suddenly fell against him, and was clumsily trying to apologise. Erik turned to acknowledge the apology, but when he looked back he couldn't find his stranger anywhere.

Feeling slightly panicked, Erik started moving towards the exit. The more he looked, the more he started to feel stupid. Of course the man had looked at him, he'd been staring at him since he'd walked into the bar. Maybe he'd mistaken Erik's interest for some kind of threatening stare? Even Erik didn't know why he had been staring at him. But there had been something behind those blue eyes that had seen something akin in him. He knew, there was something that connected the two of them. He just didn't know what it was.

Erik reached for the door handle, but felt a shiver run through him. It seemed to start in his fingers, before it ran up his arms and then down his spine. He brought his hand back instinctively, and knew that the strange feeling was only coming from one place. It was the same strange feeling he had when he started to use his powers, the way they built from the smallest place in him and spread outwards. He knew immediately that the young man was standing behind him, and his heart jumped once more as he froze. He didn't know what to do.

"Leaving already?" The blue-eyed man enquired.

Erik could tell without looking at him that the words were spoken through a smile. He turned to look into his eyes once more, and again found himself with the feeling that this man knew too much about him. Who was he? And how come he could cause his powers to flare up without Erik's command?

"I hoped we might have a drink?" he continued.

"I've had enough," Erik replied. Again the room around them seemed to ignore them, as if they had just disappeared from it. No one brushed past them, no one accidentally bumped into them, and they didn't even look their way. It was like they were both some kind of extraordinary dream in this dull piece of reality.

"Maybe we can just talk then?"

Erik didn't reply.

"My name is Charles Xavier," the young man said holding out his hand for Erik to shake. Erik noticed the expensive watch on his wrist and the quality of his shirt. His accent was British and he had the kind of confidence that was self-assured. He was the kind of person that people felt comfortable around, and already Erik felt more relaxed than he had a few moments ago.

Charles Xavier didn't belong in a place like this, everything about him screamed of being from a different class entirely. But he didn't seem to notice this himself. Oddly, Charles didn't shy away from Erik's moment of analysis, in which Erik unashamedly looked him over from head to toe. Instead he seemed to know exactly what Erik was thinking. Erik knew he'd given his thoughts away from the smirk on Charles' face. He didn't speak, just patiently waited for Erik to stop staring.

"Erik Lehnsherr," Erik replied, giving his full name since Charles had set the precedence. He shook the offered hand and let go with reluctance.

"Come and sit down with me," Charles offered.

Erik didn't know how Charles had managed to find a table in here, especially since there seemed to be limited standing room already on this Saturday night. But Charles was already walking away, and Erik found himself considering his slim frame as he slipped into the crowd. As Charles walked, he caught the attention of everyone he passed, and Erik wondered whether they could feel the same strange pull towards Charles that he felt? But Charles kept walking, and neither returned anyone's glance nor looked back to see if Erik was following him.

As Erik walked, he wondered whether Charles' girlfriend was going to mind the intrusion of another. He wasn't sure he would want someone else looking on if he was with Charles. Then he stopped himself. What was he thinking? And why was he even considering this? He'd met this man for only a few minutes and already he was jealous of sharing this with someone else. Whatever this was.

The blonde girl watched him as he walked closer. She had folded her arms, and in front of her looked like an untouched drink.

"This is Raven," Charles said, pulling out an empty chair and leaving it free for Erik. "Raven, this is Erik Lehnsherr."

The blonde girl scowled at Charles an then turned her icy gaze on Erik. Her gaze flicked up and down him, much like the same assessment Erik had used on Charles. The action was rather threatening and Erik wondered why Charles had just stood there and let him visibly cast a judgement over him with his eyes.

"Really Charles?" she asked, her voice scathing. "Do we have to do this right now?"

"Don't mind my sister," Charles said, brushing over Raven's rudeness. "Manners were never her strong point. Please," he said, holding out a hand to the empty chair.

Erik sat, feeling slightly self-conscious. The girl was not Charles' girlfriend, yet she didn't want his company. And what exactly was she opposed to Charles doing? Did he regularly return strangers stares, and stop them from leaving the bar? Charles sat down, and kissed Raven on the cheek before reaching for his larger. It had been sitting there long enough for condensation to form on the outside of the glass, and Charles fingers left marks along it as he put it down.

"Cheer up Raven, it might never happen," Charles said, looking at his sister's still annoyed face. She scowled at him more, before taking her handbag and pulling out her compact.

Charles kept looking at her as she checked her complexion, then she snapped the mirror shut in annoyance. Erik watched them both, finding himself interested in their dynamic.

"So, Erik, what brings you here?" Raven asked, shamed into being civil by Charles' disapproving.

"Revenge," Erik replied lightly. He watched Raven straighten slightly in her seat, and Charles raised his eyebrow. Her sulky expression suddenly took on an uncertain look, and her eyes flicked to her brother.

Great, lets have drinks with the maniac! I told you not to keep making new friends, they all turn out weird. Like you. Raven was looking at Charles, in which she seemed to be having a conversation with her eyes.

He's like us Raven, I saw it.

He's not like you Charles. He's not like us.

Well, let me see.

No…

Erik watched, as Charles appeared to suddenly suffer with a headache. His hand reached up to his head, and he closed his eyes. Erik watched him until he suddenly felt himself thinking about Shaw, and all that had happened to him on his journey here. But as quickly as it began, he forgot what he was considering and he was looking at Charles again. He felt as if something had happened between them, maybe in the past, maybe in a dream… had they met before? Why was this man so familiar?

"Ah, yes, Erik is searching for a man called Sebastian Shaw," Charles said, his hands now in front of him, palms down on the table.

Erik sat in silence, stunned by the surrealism of the moment. He stared at Charles, and tried to find an explanation in his face. But the blue eyes just stared back at him with the same allure and mystery as before.

"How did you know that?" Erik asked. He felt as if he couldn't even move. Right now this would go one of two ways, either this had all been a set up from the beginning, and Charles was one of Shaw's spies. Or, something else, something impossible was happening. Was this man his enemy?

"Am not your enemy Erik," Charles replied, earning another confused expression to cross Erik's face. "I am sorry if I have alarmed you. But," then he turned to face his sister. "Raven, our new friend has been searching for Sebastian Shaw for a long time. He has followed him all over the world."

The muscles in Erik's body began to tense, and he looked ready to spring forward and beat an answer out of Charles. The tension mounted until Raven slammed her coke on the table.

"That is it," she said, grabbing her handbag. "I have had enough of playing the third wheel in all your little seduction scenes Charles, I'll be waiting outside."

Erik didn't look at her as she passed by. The tension between him and Charles remained, and while he knew he ought to drag this man outside and punch him until he talked some sense, Erik just sat and waited. He didn't understand himself in this moment.

"I am going to ask you again, Charles Xavier, how do you know this about me?"

Charles' eyes glinted in the light as he spoke.

"You are not an ordinary man, are you Erik. You can do things that others cannot," Charles said, not answering the question. "So can I."

The chaos in the bar stopped. Everyone paused and the room was silent. Erik stood abruptly, he took a stance, which told Charles that he felt threatened, but Charles continued.

I am not ordinary either Erik. I know what you are doing here. I know what has driven your desire to talk to me tonight. I know what you want, but you are too afraid to ask.

Charles spoke, but the words did not come from his mouth. Erik heard Charles in his head, and knew instantly that this was the something he had tried to recognise in the man. The something that made him so attractive to him, the something that made them the same. But still, he did not want to admit the odd feelings he was having right now.

"You know nothing," Erik said leaning towards Charles, pinning him in his chair. "Your sister is right. You should not play games with strangers."

Erik had felt shocked to his soul, but he refused to show it to the telepath. Instead he started walking away, on legs that trembled. The feeling of having Charles inside of his head had been better than any drug, it had left him buzzing. He pushed his way out of the bar, past frozen people, feeling sick. With every step he felt as if he was losing something, but he was too stubborn to turn back.

If Charles was like him, then did it make him less special, or did it give him a brother in a world that had never understood him? Right now he knew he was angry. Angry that Charles had caught him on the back foot, and seen his lust for him and the lust for revenge, and rather than judge had simply returned it to him.

As he opened the door and the nighttime air hit him, he stared down the street. He kept walking until he turned the corner, and then he froze. Charles was standing before him, illuminated only by the street lamps. It was impossible. He couldn't be there.

"Where are you going?" Charles asked him.

"How did you…?"

"Erik, please stay calm. I am sorry, but you left too soon."

Erik turned around, and he saw Charles standing behind him also. He didn't know how he was feeling now, angry, relived? The Charles that had followed him continued to look at him, whilst the other began to change. His skin became tinged with blue, and then he became a blue skinned girl, with large amber eyes. Her red hair caught in the wind, and stands blew across her face. She smiled at him before she turned back into Charles' sister.

"Thank you Raven," Charles said, and she nodded before walking past them both and going to stand on the edge of the curb a few metres down the street. "So, now you know who we are."

"Why?"

"Because you don't want to be alone," Charles replied, taking a step forward.

Erik tried to think of something to say, to make some sense of all of this. Why would this man waste his time on him? But before he could even begin to speak. Raven was calling Charles. A cab was waiting for them, and she was climbing in.

"Come with me," Charles offered, looking from the cab to Erik.

"No."

"Why not? You want to."

Erik refused to answer. Charles was wrong. He didn't care that he was alone. What did it matter what he wanted? He would continue alone, because that was how he had begun. He would not drag someone else into this. And if he ever met Charles again, then it would not be from his greed of wanting to be near him.

He wished they had had more time. Or that he could convince himself that taking up Charles' offer would be a good idea. But for once, he would do the honourable thing, and let Charles Xavier disappear out of his life.

"Here," Charles said holding out what looked like a scrap of paper. Erik accepted it without comment. "We will meet again Erik Lehnsherr."

Erik watched the cab drive away, and forced himself to stand and consider what he had been offered and what he had let slip away. In his hand the paper seemed to burn him. He opened his hand and let it fall to the ground. As it caught in the wind and flew away, he walked quickly into the night. He didn't want to have Charles' phone number in his pocket. He didn't want to give in and call him.

He had no doubt that Charles had been right. They would meet again. As he walked away, the paper rolled in the wind, and what Erik would now never know stared up at the night sky. That, which was carefully written across the paper, was not numbers, but a message. It told the world, and the next passer-by should they chance to look:

"Shaw will know that you are coming, but you will win."

End