Summary: Scott sees something not meant for his eyes. I pretty much lifted the premise from "Jersey Girl" - I know that I am the only person who has watched and legitimately enjoyed that movie, so I feel like it's necessary to cite my source, as it were - and repackaged it with fancy Erik/Charles wrapping paper. Set loosely several years after "First Class" and several before the first original trilogy film.

What You See Is What You Get

The summer weather is sticky and hot, and Erik makes his displeasure about it clear as soon as he arrives. "How can you be wearing so many clothes?" he asks Charles disdainfully, shutting the window behind him.

It doesn't take long for him to coerce Charles into taking a shower with him. It helps that Charles' shower is large - he has to be able to sit down in it, after all - and private, since it's attached to his bedroom. It also helps that Erik has already decided that this is going to happen and is already nude and running the water by the time Charles has acquiesced and, finally, begins to remove his own garments (which, he has to admit, are quite unnecessarily numerous).

The water is a pleasant reprieve from the heat, and Charles lets it rush down his back gratefully, perched on his shower seat. When Erik begins washing his shoulders and then, slowly, inching further and further down, he sighs happily and allows it.

They're locked in a rather heated kiss, Erik's hand soapy and gripping Charles' dick in a loose sheath with his fingers when ... "Sorry, Professor! Gambit made some sort of Cajun ... thing, and a bunch of the other bathrooms are occupied."

It's Scott. Charles stares at the shower curtain silently, mouth gaping in a horrified fashion. Erik, on the other hand, simply looks bemused. Quickly, Charles clears his throat. "Ahem, that's ... that's fine, Scott. Just remember to flush when you're finished ..." he begins, and then realizes his mistake.

The sharp change in temperature and water pressure makes them both jump. Erik lets out a yelp, and Scott, being the perceptive boy he is, instinctively tugs open the shower curtain. "Magneto! It's Magneto!" he yells. He runs out of the room, obviously intent on rallying the troops, and Charles sighs and rubs his forehead. "Why did I want to run a school?" he mutters, and Erik smirks.

It takes Charles and Erik several minutes to both don something more appropriate than their birthday suits and, simultaneously, try to convince Charles' students that Erik is not, in fact, there to kidnap him. ("It's happened before," Scott insists stubbornly, to which Charles replies that, no, Erik has never abducted him out of the shower, in fact.) When the dust has settled, Scott perches in an armchair in Charles' study, frowning suspiciously at Charles and Erik, perched side-by-side on a love seat. Erik, in spite of still being half-naked due to hastily shoving on Charles' bathrobe when all hell had broken loose so that he could, in fact, help to reel it back in, still manages to look dignified, even as water droplets roll down his semi-bare chest from his hair. One dribbles from the tip of his nose to the floor, and Charles can swear he hears it fall.

Charles speaks first, after clearing his throat. "Now, Scott, I know what you've just seen might be ... shocking; that it might make you uncomfortable. We just want to sit down and make sure that you fully understand." Erik nods shortly in agreement, though in truth, his main concern is his and Charles' aborted love-making more than it is Scott's (albeit, considerable) shock.

Scott, for his part, looks to be holding it together rather well. In fact, as he strokes his chin, his gaze is downright suspicious more than it is confused. Eventually, he turns to Erik, his gaze assumed to be fixed on the older man. "What are your intentions," he begins, steepling his fingers, "with the professor?"

"Intentions?" Erik queries, his mouth still quirked.

Scott doesn't smile, however. "Yes," he says, "intentions." His frown seems to deepen. "Do you plan to marry him?"

Charles chokes a little. "Scott, I think you're probably still -" he begins, but Erik cuts him off.

"Yeah. Maybe someday," he shrugs. "But for now, I'd just like to be able to fuck him in the shower once in a while."

"All right, really," Charles interjects shrilly, but Scott's attention is rapt on Erik.

"So ..." he leans in conspiratorially. "So will mine ever get that ... big? Like, did that just happen one day?"

"Scott!"

"- do you feed it anything?"

"That's enough, Scott."

"Is that part of your mutation?" Scott fidgets excitedly. "Like, if I show you mine, will you tell me if you think it might still grow a bit -"

"SCOTT."

Scott winces, but nods and stands up, slinking away quickly. As he passes them, Erik slaps him jovially on the shoulder. "Sorry, Professor," Scott mumbles, and nods at Erik. "Uh. See you later, or something."

"Of course, whenever I see fit to abduct Charles again." After Scott leaves, Erik turns to Charles, whose withering glare is unwavering. "What?"

"You know very well what," Charles replies, but he stops complaining, even about how his couch is all wet, now, when Erik removes the bathrobe and leads him back into the bathroom to finish what they started.