A/M: Because I felt like writing theonionistheonewhocries something. And this is what became of it, on the prompt of: "Erik was endlessly fasinated by the child's toy, the slinky. He couldn't understand how it just kept going down the stairs, over and over and over cascading down like a waterfall. Charles often teased him about his little obsession. (Charles secretly thought this obsession was the most adroable thing ever. He loved that Erik could forget all his anger and hate just because of a child's toy.)"

Anything metal is movable and malleable under his touch. It's what he does; he makes metal things twist and bend and fly across the room.

But what Erik Lehnsherr doesn't understand is how a Slinky — a child's toy made from a long, thin, coiled spring of metal, inspired by the events of a mistake made by a man on a ship of all things — can tumble down a flight of stairs, walking on its own accord, after a single tap and teeter from the top.

He can't seem to wrap his mind around the concept of an inanimate object made of metal but not influenced by his will can possibly move like that. It's a wonder and a bit of a joy, and utterly fascinating. It might make more sense if he had learned more about momentum and physics, but he hadn't had much schooling before Schmidt got his grubby hands on him, and Schmidt taught Erik many things — multiple languages and the like — but sciences he tended to keep away from Erik, as if withholding knowledge of how the world and bodies work would keep Erik under his control.

Anyhow, it's during one of those moments at night where Erik is fiddling with a Slinky, making it shutter back and forth in a rainbow-like arc in his hands, then in the air in various connected shapes, twisting and re-shaping, that Charles spies him.

Erik is moving up from his seat at the bottom of the main staircase in the mansion to walk up the steps, kneel at the top, and let toy cascade down like a waterfall, his eyes lit up as he watches it go. He doesn't even need to give it an extra shove to keep it going all the way down.

Charles hides a chuckle behind his hand as he walks into view. "Amused, my friend?" he inquires.

Erik gives a start, but is soon smiling sharkishly. "Yes, I am, in fact. I rather like this little coil. It has spunk," he jokes.

Charles laughs in turn, and he gazes up fondly at the slightly older man. It's adorable and endearing, really, that Erik can release all of his pent-up feelings of rage and vengeance and hatred long enough to enjoy himself, and all because of a child's toy.

Once the Slinky reaches the bottom step at Charles' feet, the telepath picks it up, lets it stretch and fall from one hand to the other like a skillfully shuffled deck of cards, and then begins making his way up the staircase.

When he reaches the top, he stands before Erik, up close and personally, and offers up the toy. "Here you are. Shall we have another go with it?"

It takes Erik a moment, but he slowly nods. "Of course."

He stoops down, lets the toy tumble down the steps again, but before it even reaches the halfway point, the metalbender turns to his friend and asks, "Why do you humor me with this? You must think me quite foolish."

"Nothing that can bring you joy, Erik, is foolish, no matter what your reasons are for finding joy in it," Charles answers softly.

Erik nods vaguely, glancing back at the Slinky in time to catch its sliver glint reaching the bottom step, jumping off, and rolling across the tiled floor on its side like a barrel on the run.

When Erik's eyes once again connect with Charles', he doesn't have to say thank you, even though he means to, because it was Charles who bought him the toy.

Instead, Charles simply lifts himself onto the pads of his socked feet and plants a sweet little kiss to the corner of Erik's mouth.

"Goodnight, Erik," he says, "And have fun. Don't stay up too late."

And with that, Charles turns down the corridor, heading for bed, and Erik smiles gently and slowly turns to pace down the steps to retrieve the metal spring.