June 25th, 1978 1:00pm
The Press Room
Omega Palace,
The Island of Genosha

Charles straightened his tie as Erik wheeled him to the head of the oblong steel table, where the reporter was awaiting them eagerly. He didn't know what he'd expected exactly, but this over-eager blonde in the pink corduroy bell bottoms looked no more than sixteen.

Erik's voice hummed like telephone wire in his head. /They sent us an intern./

/Now now, age is as age does darling. He could be brilliant./

Erik raised an eyebrow imperceptibly and took a seat next to Charles, so that they were both across from the clearly-star struck young man. /Are we sure on the "He?" I feel like I'm on set with Twiggi./

/Erik! I'm surprised at you./

/What? He looks like a girl. In our prime Charles it wasn't the fashion to flaunt it. You could get arrested in some parts of the world, for the way this one looks./

Charles dealt Erik a sidelong glance as he took the reporter's hand politely. "Charles Xavier, how do you do?"

"Hello!" Said the boy altogether too loudly. "I mean, hi. I know who you are. Obviously. We spoke on the phone once I think. I knew it was you and not Magneto-can I call you Magneto?"

"That's my name."

"Hah! Right. Um, because of the accent. I'm Devin. Devin Porter. And I'd like to take this opportunity to speak for The Advocate and thank you so much for granting us the first interview after the scandal...er, the...incident."

Erik poured himself a glass of water out of the pitcher Toad had thoughtfully left them, and smirked. "Oh a scandal? Is that what the American papers are saying? You'll have to forgive me, I'm a little busy running the greatest country in the world to keep up with what the homo sapians are calling "sex with men" these days."

Charles cleared his throat, and flushed. "That's off the record Devin. And as you've probably gleaned, this interview was my idea."

Devin, who looked equal parts terrified and exhilarated, stared wildly between them as if he were watching a particularly riveting game of tennis. Charles gave him a moment more to be astounded, but in truth he was growing weary. Genosha had a way of lessening his patience with celebrity.

"Perhaps we should get started?"

"Right!" Devin chirped, and started rummaging through a leather bag that Erik thought not-so-privately looked like a purse. Eventually, he produced an oversized tape recorder, a psychedelic notebook, and a pen with a giant smiley-face eraser.

/Good lord. I've changed my mind Charles. This was a terrible idea./

/Oh hush. We need to get ahead of this. It IS a bit of a scandal, after all./

"Ok, all set! Um...I'm sorry I'm so nervous. It's just I studied the declassified files on the Cuban Missle crisis and I have some friends who were there during the incident in DC and I'm a HUGE fan. Of both of you. And I can't believe I was allowed a temporary visa here...I think I'm like the fourth human ever, isn't that right?"

Erik shrugged. "Something like that."

"Actually," Charles clarified, "It's no harder for a human to get a visa here than anywhere else in the non-hostile developing world. We simply haven't had many applications. Most of the Brotherhood have lost or been disowned by their human families, and humans in general are as yet too frightened of Genosha to risk a visit. But we're hoping to change that over the next five to ten years. I'm personally working with Er-with Magneto's son on a tourism initiative..."

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Professor." Devin interrupted, suddenly all business. "When you say Magneto's son, are you referring to Pietro Maximoff? Also, you almost just called him Erik, didn't you?"

/Oi, see? The boy's done his research./ Charles sent the thought smugly.

/Joy./

"Yes." Erik said out loud. "Pietro is my son, and Wanda is his twin sister. I've got another daughter, but she doesn't like the public eye much. And anyone with an Almanac knows that my given name is Erik Lehnsherr, but I prefer Magneto. It was given to me by a mutant, made for a mutant, and describes what I, a mutant, can do."

I see, murmured Devin. "Would you say, then, your re-naming is akin to how many African Americans are looking back on their roots to describe themselves?"

Charles nodded slowly. "I hesitate to compare one struggle with another, and I don't think the human African American community would appreciate that, but with every minority there is a certain commonality in the narrative."

Devin jotted something down, then fixed the telepath with an even appraisal. "In your case it's kind of a double whammy isn't it, what with being gay and a mutant."

Charles was wondering when he was going to get to the point. He'd had a little time to think about how he wanted to frame his answers, but to be honest he hadn't given the preparation it's due diligence. Something about summering on Genosha these past few years while they got their paperwork and infrastructure in order made him feel...more relaxed. No hiding necessary here. With Erik, the veins of metal in every volcanic rock, the shore, and the vast ocean between him and the outside world, it was easy to revel in mutanthood, and glory in the freedom of isolation.

"I don't actually identify as a homosexual." Charles responded. "Erik is the love of my life, but before him my proclivities ran both ways. And I think I can safely fall back on conjecture and speculate that Erik enjoyed conceiving his children-"

"I did."

"It's rather a function of your generation," Charles rejoined. "This need for labels. I understand their use politically, but it limits one's perspective. I'd advise you, a budding journalist, to resist societal blinders, even counter cultural ones, and keep an open mind."

Devin was a little indignant, but had the grace not to voice it. "I'll keep that in mind, Professor Xavier. Why don't you tell me about you and Magneto then. The outside world was astonished when you endorsed Genosha, and some cynics are now saying unkind things about your motivations."

Charles sighed. "Yes, what was the Post headline..."There's a New Queen of Metal," or some such nonsense?"

Erik barked a laugh. "Clever."

"The picture that outed us," Charles began, "was actually taken after a crucial conference with the UN. We were having a gala to celebrate our official statehood recognition, and Erik-"

"You don't call him Magneto?"

"No. We disagree on how well it suits him. We disagree on a lot of things. Anyway, Erik caught me on the balcony that night, and here we are."

"I don't mind telling you," Devin leaned forward conspiratorially, "People in the gay community are calling it the kiss of the century."

"Goodness," Charles muttered, and flushed again. Erik rolled his eyes.

"Glad we could be of service."

"The point is," the telepath rejoined, "I believe in a mutant state, and the potential of this country. I'm a member of the advisory cabinet because I have a head for policy and I can weed out corruption," He wiggled his index and middle fingers towards his temple. "That Erik and I love each other doesn't take away from the sincerity of the work that we do for Genosha. In fact..." He let his gaze wander to the sure-to-be-absurd, half-built statue of the two of them visible out the picture windows. "It adds to it. This country is going to be forged with a hell of a lot of heart."

Devin rested his head in his hand and turned towards Erik, his grin just this side of insipid. "Magneto, Charles is using the word love a lot, and you've barely said anything. Is that an accurate description of your feelings?"

Charles was sure this would lead to some snarky comment or another from the metalkinetic, but Erik simply turned, and regarded him with the full intensity of his gray stare. Charles was beginning to drown in those eyes when Erik nodded. "Yes."

Devin sighed like a groupie. "I can't with you two. Seriously. So cute. Well I know your schedules are full-"

"I've got about five more minutes." Erik dead panned.

"Wow, um, ok, let me just check the list the magazine gave me. This is my first-ever solo by line, I'm so incredibly lucky to get it and it's only cuz no one else wanted to come here, um, ummmm" There was a desperate shuffling of papers in the man purse. "Got it! Ok. 'How did you two meet?" "What are you planning to do in Genosha to advance gay rights?" and "Who is the top and who is the bottom?""

Charles nearly choked. "Who is the...I beg your pardon?!"

Erik crossed his arms. "We met on a ship during a war they don't teach you about in your huma-normative text books, Genoshian law could care less who you're fucking, and none of your goddamn business."

Devin knew when to quit while he was ahead. "Right...er. Can I quote you on all of that?"

Erik had already stood, and was pushing Charles towards the door.

"Yes darling." Called Charles over his shoulder, and held up his hand to indicate the wheelchair should pause. "And please...do tell the readers of The Advocate what I tell all of my students. It's an affirmation that does indeed apply to many struggles, and is simply this: "You are not alone."

"Ok." Devin said passionately, and paged his pilot. "I absolutely will. Thank you, both, so much."

A Few Days Later, Just After Dawn
Master Bedroom, Omega Palace
The Island of Genosha

"Oh...Erik..."

"There?"

"You know darn well there, yes, God, there..."

Charles's knuckles where white, curled around the ornate iron headboard as he braced himself up with his arms to account for his useless legs. Erik thrust into him hard and rhythmically, filling him completely, narrow hip bones slamming into his rear. He would have bruises later, he always had bruises, but he didn't care. He liked it rough, and then he liked to lie there, soft and boneless, while Erik massaged him until he fell asleep.

"Darling I'm close."

"Come for me, Charles. Come in my hand."

The metalkinetic tightened his grip on Charles's cock and spit on the tip over the smaller man's shoulder. After only three good jerks Charles saw stars and spilled all over the perfectly white sheets, ruining the pillow case and shuddering well after Erik silently celebrated his own orgasm deep within him.

"Good lord." Gasped Charles as they disconnected.

"Not quite." Erik growled good-naturedly against his ear.

They had almost drifted off again when a hesitant knock on the door disturbed their peace.

"Who is it, what's wrong?" Erik called out, already tensed to jump out of bed for some apocalyptic emergency.

Toad entered, begoggled eyes downcast, and shook his head. "Nothing urgent, Sir, just thought you'd like to know that this came on the first mail plane this morning." He handed off the magazine and high-tailed it back out before Erik had time to rail at him for the disturbance.

"Oh. It's that Nervous Nelly's Advocate article."

Charles stretched on the bed and grasped for it half-heartedly. "Let me see...gracious, they chose the most dreadful photos of us for this one. Pity the boy didn't bring a camera crew, I'm in my full beard and the old chair here."

"And I'm wearing fuchsia," Erik grimaced. They hunched over and scanned the two page spot together.

"While no one, not even a trash talking drag queen south of Christopher Street, would accuse Erik Lehnsher, Mutant Name Magneto, of being polite..." Charles read aloud amusedly.

"There is no doubt in this reporter's mind that he loves as fiercely as he hates." Erik finished the sentence, and Charles's heart warmed to the tendril of telepathic satisfaction he picked up from the other man. "As for Charles Xavier, known among the X-men as the one and only Professor X..." he continued,

"He's any twink fan's fantasy and I suspect he knows it. A born statesman, him and his baby blue eyes gave me a run for my money throughout the entire interview...hah!" Erik laughed full in his chest and tossed the article aside before ruffling the other man's hair. "Did you hear that Charles. You're my twink fantasy."

"I am not a...(?!) twink!" Charles said vehemently, and frowned at the magazine's glossy pages. " I was the tom cat of my graduating class and the most powerful telepath in the world! You were right. That was a terrible idea. This post-hippie era and it's goddamned bloody labels."

Erik rolled over on his side and smiled fondly, idly tracing patterns on the other man's forearm. "It doesn't matter, Charles. That's half the reason I agreed to do the stupid thing. On Genosha, nothing matters except the stories we tell, the books we write..." He closed the wandering fingers into a fist, and laid it gently over Charles's heart. "The men we choose to be."

Charles captured the fist and gently kissed the knuckles, flaring anger already extinguished by the musk, power, and proximity of his truly extraordinary friend. "You're right," he said softly, and pulled Erik down so that the were close once more. "In this place, we really are the better men."