Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the story.

A/N: This is originally posted on Archive of Our Own in chapters and under a slightly different title but I've decided to post it here and do it in larger chapters. There will probably be a long wait between chapters on here but on AO3 I try and upload at least once a week (here's the link /works/1822126). Anyway, this is my first Cherik fic and I haven't had anyone look over it so I apologise if there are any mistakes. Make sure to tell me what you think. Enjoy!


If you ask Charles why he had agreed to work at the Café, he wouldn't be able to tell you. It wasn't like he needed the money. He spent enough time there, knew the other employees well enough and when Alex had called out, asking if he had wanted to take the new job on offer, Charles had nodded.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

In a way it was. It gave him something to do, allowed him to spend even more time away from his house and gave him the opportunity to socialise with people other than Raven.

And then he had walked in.

And then he had smiled at Charles with a grin that could have belonged to a shark, making Charles' breath catch.


The first week Charles spent working at the Café had gone pretty well. The other employees could get annoying near the end of a shift where all Charles wanted to do was curl up in bed with hot tea and a book, but other than that it was fine.

It had been weird at first, to be an employee and not a customer. He was used to hiding in the dark corner at the back, not standing behind the counter serving people and smiling. He adjusted quickly enough though, and sooner or later started to enjoy it. The only overly weird thing that had happened was on his first day when Emma got all the staff together for a meeting.

The meeting had been normal enough. He had been formally introduced to his other employees, most of which he already knew. There was Emma, who was the manager (or head bitch, as Alex calls her); Alex himself spent most of his time serving people, as he couldn't really work the machines that well, then there was Alex's older brother, Scott, who spent most of his time in the kitchen away from Alex, because really them being near each other wasn't such a good idea. Then there was Moira, who spent most of her time in the back with Scott and who, quite frankly, scared Charles a little. Lastly, there was Sean, who spent his time either cleaning up or making the orders, apparently too shy to talk to the actual customers. Charles mostly liked the people he worked with, even when they were being annoying. The group being so small allowed them to know each other, and the Café wasn't very big so they managed to get by with just the six of them. Charles thinks the reason they had asked him if he wanted the job was because Charles had known them, and they had known Charles. Alex had told him if that if he hadn't accepted the job then they would have spent weeks trying to find a person that would fit in.

After the formal introduction, they had started to go over the Café's rules. The started off pretty normal (if informal), the kind of rules you would expect from a café. They had gotten weirder as the list went on. Make sure to smile at all customers and always be professional, even if the customer is an asshole (not Lehnsherr), had gone to make sure to always be fully clothed (Scott) and do NOT fight in front of the customers (Scott and Alex). Then there was a bunch of rules regarding the 'Lehnsherr' that had been mentioned before. There was do not spend more time with Lehnsherr than completely necessary, do NOT get caught alone with Lehnsherr, do NOT piss Lehnsherr off (remember what happened last time), if you do get caught alone with Lehnsherr, scream for help. The list had gone on, and Charles had been really confused. He didn't know who Lehnsherr was, and from the list of rules implied about him, Charles didn't want to know who he was.

After that they had gone back to work. Charles and Alex were working the counter, the day was kind of slow and Charles could only bite his tongue for so long.

"Alex," he called out to the other boy, "who's the Lehnsherr guy everyone seems to be so freaked out about?"

"Dude, you don't know?" Charles shook his head as Sean came closer to join in the conversation. "How do you not know?"

"What doesn't Charles know?" Sean cut in, "I though Charles knew everything." He threw the cloth he had been using the wipe the bench down over his shoulder and smirked at Charles when he began to blush a bit.

"Charles doesn't know about Lehnsherr."

"Well, I would if you would tell me."

"Oh, man, you don't want to know." Alex replied, "The guy's a nutter."

"The say he killed someone." Sean cut in, looking at Charles with excitement. "They say he killed a lot of people, actually."

"They also say he likes kids or something," Alex cut in, "I don't know if it's true, but like, he does check out the young guys when he's here."

"They say screams can be heard from his apartment sometimes."

"And that on Halloween he tricks people to go into his house and then he kills him."

"They used to say he was a spy, too, for the government or something." Sean said, "And that he was like, some kind of assassin."

Charles shook his head. Sean's excitement on the topic was slightly worrying, but surely one man couldn't have done all of that. "Who's 'they'?"

"Just people from around here," Alex said.

"You do realise most of it would just be rumours then, right?"

Sean shook his head, "Just wait until you meet the guy, Charles. He practically screams serial killer."

Alex nodded and Charles shook his head again, "I'll look forward to it, then."


It wasn't until the beginning of his second week that Charles had met the mysterious Lehnsherr.

It was Monday afternoon, he was tired from school and no one had come into the Café for exactly twenty three minutes and sixteen seconds. The last customers had left two minutes and fifty three seconds ago and since then the other staff members that were working had gone out the back or were near the back of the shop, leaving Charles alone at the counter.

Exactly three minutes and forty seven seconds after the last customer left, he walked in. The sound of the door opening had startled Charles slight and when he looked up, there he was.

He was staring at Charles with a smirk, watching Charles as Charles watched him. He was six foot, lean, muscular and, Charles thought, practically a fucking sex god. His hair looked soft and gave Charles the urge to run his fingers through it and the outline of the body that could be seen under the black turtle neck the man had on was, for lack of words, incredibly sexy. He looked like to be in his early to mid-thirties and gave off an aura of dominance and power Charles had never seen in anyone.

Mouth slightly agape, Charles had never been so attracted to someone in his entire life.

And then, thirty seconds after that, he was overcome by embarrassment. His cheeks going a humiliating shade of red as he realised the unnamed man had noticed his staring and was now grinning at him like a shark would their prey.

Clearing his throat, Charles straightened up and looked the man in the eye, smiling. "How can I help you today, sir?"

"You're new here." The man's voice was deep and accented, Charles liked it.

"I-uh," Charles stammered, "I'm what?"

"You're new here," the man repeated, grinning at Charles again.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I am."

"What's your name?"

Charles blinked, "What?"

"What's your name?" the man asked again, smirking now.

"Uh," Charles paused, "Charles." he cleared his throat and offered his hand, "Charles Xavier, and you?"

The man smirked and lent over the counter slightly, taking the hand, "Around here, I believe, I'm known as Lehnsherr."

Charles breathed in quickly, his eyes widening. This man, this beautiful man, was the guy everyone…

Oh god.

"Are you sure?" Once the words left his mouth his pulled his hand back and clamped it over his mouth, blushing again.

Lehnsherr never stopped smirking, merely pulled his hand back and chuckled slightly. "So, they've told you about me then? Pity."

Charles shook his head, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Tea, please. Black and large. To-go." Lehnsherr cut him off, standing up straight.

Charles got him his order and a slightly awkward silence filled the room and Charles' face burnt. When he gave Lehnsherr his order, his mouth decided to betray his brain. "From what I've heard, I didn't expect you to be so…"

"Attractive?" Lehnsherr joked, smirking at the boy once again.

"Yes, I, uh, no, I mean you are attractive, very much so, I, uh," Charles sighed burning red, "I'm sorry, I meant-"

Lehnsherr was chuckling, "I'll see you later, Charles," and then, with a wink in the boy's direction, he left.

The door to the kitchen opened and Charles turned to see Emma looking at Lehnsherr's retreating back. She looked back at Charles and smiled slightly. "So you met the big, bad wolf, huh?" Charles nodded and Emma smirked as she took in the blush, "Oh, sugar."


After that, it almost seemed as if Lehnsherr would come in each time Charles was working. And, although he'd deny it if anyone asked, Charles started to look forward to it. Lehnsherr wasn't as creepy as Alex and Sean had made him seem. Charles could see where most of the rumours came from, but really, he was positive the man had never killed anyone.

Charles remembered Alex telling him that Lehnsherr had apparently liked children. It seemed, however, that it was just younger men he liked, not children, because Charles wasn't a child and at the moment, it seemed like Lehnsherr liked Charles.

And although it made him slightly uncomfortable at times, Charles would be lying if he said he wouldn't agree to half the things Lehnsherr probably wanted to do.

It was wrong, Charles knew. Lehnsherr looked as if he were at least doubly Charles' age and really; the rumours about him should have been enough to put him off. Rumours like that don't just come out of nowhere. Even though Charles knew he shouldn't be, he still found himself attracted to the mystery that was Lehnsherr. There was something about the man that intrigued Charles; he wanted to find out everything about the man, to know why people were so scared of him.

Lehnsherr was a mystery that Charles wanted to discover. The first step was finding out his full name.


The next time Lehnsherr came in, it was a Saturday. Alex was working the counter and Charles was making the orders.

Alex saw him enter and groaned, turning to Charles, "Xavier, swap with me."

Charles laughed at him, "He isn't that scary."

"He is."

Charles rolled his eyes and moved to the counter, "Whatever you say." He turned to face his customer and found Lehnsherr leaning over the table to look at what they had. "Shit." Charles muttered, slightly startled.

Lehnsherr grinned that shark grin at him, "Hello, Charles."

"Good morning, Mr Lehnsherr." Charles smiled back at him, "What can I do for you today?"

Lehnsherr gave him his order and was gone within the next two minutes, giving Charles one last smile and Alex one last smirk.

It was Sunday and Charles was tired and kinda really didn't feel like working today but he hadn't felt like staying at home, either.

Lehnsherr came in again and this time got coffee and a muffin, taking them to sit in the back corner of the Café. Charles watched as he opened a book and started reading. The sun was coming through the window at an angle that made Lehnsherr glow, his hair looking golden and lush.

Charles smiled and turned back to the counter as he heard another customer approaching. There was a rush of customers for about forty minutes that kept Charles busy for a while. Lehnsherr hadn't left yet, he had come to get a refill on his drink not long ago and was now tucked up in his corner again, apparently absorbed in his book. Once the customers died down, Emma yelled out that it was about time he took a break, so Charles made himself some tea and, hesitantly, went to the corner where Lehnsherr sat.

Lehnsherr looked up as he approached and closed the book, grinning at Charles. Charles pushed away the thought of one of the rules; do not spend more time with Lehnsherr than completely necessary. Lehnsherr wouldn't hurt him. Even though the corner was slightly hidden, people would still be able to see or hear if Lehnsherr tried anything.

Which he wouldn't, Charles reminded himself. The man wasn't a killer.

Charles took a deep breath and smiled slightly, "Mind if I join you? There isn't much room anywhere else."

"Go ahead."

Charles flashed the older man a bright smile and sat down across from him, "Thank you."

Lehnsherr waved his hand and leant back in his chair, "So," he started, "how do you like working here so far?"

Charles was slightly shocked that Lehnsherr was started a conversation, but smiled nonetheless. "It's good," he replied, "gives me something to do other than school and homework."

Lehnsherr raised an eyebrow, "You're still at school them?"

Charles cursed himself a little bit as he felt the blush creep its way across his face, "I, um, yeah. I'm in my final year, though."

Lehnsherr nodded, "Do you do well?"

Charles nodded; he couldn't deny that he was the top student in all of his classes. He was proud of himself for it, even if it pissed the other kids off to no end. He just didn't like saying it, he always felt like he came off as cocky.

"Cocky isn't always a bad thing."

Charles blushed, he hadn't realised he had said it out loud.

Lehnsherr chucked again and murmured, "You're very pretty when you blush, Charles. Did you know that?"

That comment had only resulted in making Charles stammer and blush an even darker shade of red, the blush spreading all over his face and neck.

Charles was kind of relieved when not long after Emma called for him.

Lehnsherr was left wondering if the blush went below his collar, too.


On their seventh meeting, Charles found out Lehnsherr's first name was Erik.

It had been casual, a correction when Charles had called him Mr Lehnsherr.

Charles had cocked his head to the side and said the name, letting it roll over in his mouth, "It suits you," Charles had finally said, and smiled, "Have a nice day, Erik."

He had spent the rest of the day saying the name over and over in his head, loving the way it felt on his tongue.


Despite its rather boring and unoriginal name, the Café was rather pleasant. It wasn't very big, but it wasn't very small, either. There were lots of oddly placed seating areas, with the tables and counters being a nice light brown wood. There were benches with red cushioned bottoms, stools for the customers to sit on and power points on the walls in case anyone needed to charge a device. Most of the light was natural, coming from the wide windows that covered most of the walls. The bits of wall that weren't taken up by windows were covered in posters or art. The Café was always warm, had a distinct smell of coffee beans and freshly baked goods and had an atmosphere that was cosy and comfortable.

It offered the perfect sanctuary, something that and drawn Charles to it in the first place.


The other members of the staff were staring to worry about Charles.

First, he seemed to be at the Café too much. He was always working or sitting in a corner doing his school work.

Secondly, there were dark bags forming under Charles' eyes and he constantly looked tired. Alex guessed it was because he was working too much and Sean said it was because "he probably has nightmares about Lehnsherr, Charles is usually the one to serve him." Emma had shook her head at them and made them get back to work. Overworked seemed like it might be it, she had never seen the boy really relax. But it was a different kind of tired, like he was sad.

Lastly, Charles seemed to actually like serving Lehnsherr. This was the biggest worry to Alex and Sean, they couldn't comprehend it. Did Charles really not see the guy was a nutter?

"Charrrrles," Sean dragged the word out, coming to stand next to him.

Charles laughed and turned his head to look at him, "Yes, Sean?"

"Have you heard the new rumours?"

"Oh god," Charles sighed, "No, I haven't. Please enlighten me."

"They're saying Lehnsherr steals all the neighbour's pets," Sean whispered excitedly, "They say he eats them."

Charles shook his head and looked at his friend again, "Exactly how reliable are your sources of information?"

"Charles!" Sean exclaimed, "They are very reliable. How could you say such a thing?" Sean shook his head, "He's brainwashing you, Charles. Lehnsherr. Every time he talks to you, he's brainwashing you to think he's a nice guy. You have to be careful, Charles. God known what could happen."

"I highly doubt Erik is brainwashing me, Sean. Most of our conversations revolve around what kind of tea or coffee he wants."

"But there it is!" Sean practically yelled, making Charles flinch back slightly, "Erik! You're calling him Erik! His name isn't Erik, Charles. It's Lehnsherr." He shook his head again, "It might already be too late for you, Charles."

Charles rolled his eyes, he didn't know whether to laugh or sigh, "Fine then. Lehnsherr isn't brainwashing me, Sean. He's just being nice."

"Nice?" Sean threw his hands up in the air, "Nice? Lehnsherr isn't nice, Charles. What am I going to do with you, Charles, oh my…" Sean started muttering and went off to find Alex, leaving Charles slightly confused. Honestly, he didn't see the why everyone was so scared of Erik.

He had been perfectly nice to Charles, if sometimes a bit eerie.


Every Sunday Erik would come in and sit in the back corner, bringing along a book or laptop to occupy himself with.

Every Sunday, Charles always seemed to be the one on cleaning duties. He would have to walk around and talk to customers, cleaning up after them once they left. Charles didn't mind, especially when the Café wasn't so busy and Erik would call him over. Today was one of those days.

"Hello, Erik."

"Charles," he moved closer to the window and tapped his hand on the bench next to him. "Sit." Charles smiled nervously and sat down on the edge of the bench, leaving more than enough room for someone to sit in between them. "Closer, Charles."

Charles blushed slightly and moved closer to Erik, their legs almost touching. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Erik grinned, "That's better. I can only imagine what you've heard about me, but I don't bite," he leant closer to Charles, his arm resting on the top of the bench and his breath tickling Charles' ear. "Unless, you want me to, Charles?"

Charles was pretty sure he went tomato red, "I, um," he spluttered.

Erik chuckled and leant back, giving Charles some space. He watched as the boy tried to form a reply and as the blush subsided, "You blush very easily, Charles." he stated pleased with himself when the boy started to go red again. "Don't be embarrassed about it, Charles. I've already told you it's rather pretty."

The blush deepened and Charles groaned and cursed himself for being so fair. "Glad my embarrassment pleases you, my friend." Charles tensed a bit, he hadn't really meant to call Erik that and he was a bit weary for how he would react. After all, they weren't exactly friends.

But Erik just flashed him that shark-like grin again, "it's not your embarrassment that pleases me, darling." Despite it being said so casually, the term made Charles' breath hitch.

He was about to reply when he saw Emma approaching. She took in his blush and rolled her eyes. "You're going to make the kid's skin permanently pink, Lehnsherr." She turned to Charles, "I need you work the counter, Alex went out back and got into a fight with Scott. He's now incapable of working at the moment."

Charles groaned and shook his head, "I feel sorry for their parents."

Emma smiled, "Me, too, sugar. Now, wrap it up and get back to work." She walked off leaving them alone.

Charles turned back to look at Lehnsherr, "I'll see you later, Erik." He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and stood up to leave.

"Goodbye, darling."


Charles wanted to talk to someone about Erik.

The only person he could really talk to about it was Raven, but Raven was away at collage and probably didn't want to hear about it. Besides, Charles could pretty much already hear what she was going to say. He's, like, 30, Charles. And he's apparently a creep. Go find a boy your own age, it'll be much better for you.

So, no. Raven wouldn't be the best to talk to about it. But he didn't really have anyone else. The other members of his family were out of the question and the only people he hung out with were the staff at the Café and Erik himself. It wasn't like he could go and talk to any of them.

Charles sighed, he really shouldn't be thinking about it. He had some pretty important exams coming up that he had to focus on.

He wasn't working the next Sunday. Emma gave him the day off so he could spend it studying for his exams.

Still though, he found himself in his car driving towards the Café. His step brother would be home all day and he really didn't want to deal with that.

Bleary eyed and tired from not enough sleep, he found himself stumbling into someone as he was about to enter the Café. He looked up to apologised when he noticed the person was Erik. "Erik, oh, I," Charles didn't understand why he was always seemed to stutter around Erik, he was usually good with words. Words were, like, his thing. He shook his head, "I'm sorry, I didn't see wher-"

"It's alright, darling." Charles smiled and Erik pushed the door open, allowing Charles to walk in first. He looked Charles up and down and noticed that he wasn't wearing the work uniform. "Not working today?"

"Hm?" Charles turned his head backwards to look at him, "Oh, no. Emma gave me the day off. She say's I work too much."

"So you decide to come here on your day off?"

"Better than being at home." Charles said as he got to the small line at the counter. "Mine if I join you again today?"

"Not at all," he paused and looked at cakes and pastries on display.

"Charles!" Alex called when they reached the counter, "Couldn't stand not being here for at least one day?"

Charles smiled slightly and rolled his eyes, "Shut it, can I hav-"

"Tea, Earl Grey, for him. Black, for me. Both large." Erik paused, "And a piece of the caramel cake."

Alex's eyes widened slightly and nodded, accepting the money Erik offered him.

"Erik." Charles started when they sat down, side by side, in what was, Charles thought, their corner.

"Yes, Charles?"

"I could have bought my own drink."

Erik rolled his eyes, "Yes, I know you could have, but I wanted to."

"What if I didn't want tea?"

"You always want tea."

"But what if I wanted, say," Charles paused, "Green tea?"

"Just drink the tea, Charles. I know that's what you wanted."

Charles stuck his tongue out at Erik and took a sip of his drink, coughing slightly when it burnt his throat.

"Mature, darling. Very mature," the older man laughed and placed the cake in between them. "What did you plan on doing today?"

Charles pointed to the nearly overflowing bag he had, "Supposed to be studying. There are practice question I need to do. I don't want to do them, though."

"What if," Erik paused, "You got a prize for every question you get right?"

Charles smiled, "What would the prize be?"

"Hmm," Erik licked his lips, "Each time you do a question, I'll check the answer and for each question you get right you can have some cake." He pointed at the delicious looking piece of cake on the table in front of them. He looked to Charles, "Deal?"

"You're on, my friend."

They spent the next hour or so together, laughing going over questions. Erik had to buy two more slices of cake; he hadn't expected Charles to get pretty much every question right.

Charles hadn't expected that Erik would feed him the cake.


Three weeks after Charles found our Erik's name, he got Erik's phone number.

It came as a surprise, he was cleaning the table Erik had previously occupied and when he picked up the napkin he saw his name and some digits scrawled on it. Charles had only just made out the messy text me left under the number.

He didn't stop smiling until he got home and had to face his step-father.


Later that night, when Charles was in bed, he got out his phone and the napkin from before. He had meant to text Erik earlier but he had just been really busy. And, if he was honest with himself, he was a bit nervous. He out the number in his contacts and, taking a deep breath, he started to type. The message was deleted and rewritten four times before he settles on What if someone else had picked up the napkin, my friend?

He didn't have to wait long for a reply, smiling at it came in.

I was starting to think you hadn't seen the number, darling.

Charles was glad that Erik wasn't someone that abbreviated everything when they were texting. it got a bit annoying.

How could I miss such a thing?

Well, you did take your time.

Impatient, Charles thought. Terribly sorry, my friend. There were things to do.

Things more important than me?!

I'm afraid so, Erik. It may come as a shock to you but I do have a life other than the Café.

Lies.

Partially.

What are you doing now, darling?

Nothing other than talking to you.

So I have your full attention?

Yes.

Good.

Charles smiled, What about you? What are you doing?

Oh, you know. Just cooking up the neighbour's cat.

Charles paused for a moment, he didn't know if he should laugh or not. I really hope you're kidding.

I am.

And then, I really don't know where these rumours come from.

Neither do I.

Does it bother you?

It used to, a bit. I'm used to it now. It works to my advantage sometimes. People tend to leave me alone because they think I might kill them if they annoy me.

So you prefer being alone, then?

Yes.

Although, I don't mind your company, darling.

Too bad if you didn't. I'm not scared of you so you would be stuck with me, anyway.

Lucky me.

Lucky you.


One month after finding out Lehnsherr's first name, Charles was surprised to see how much he knew about the man.

He knew Erik's coffee and tea orders (obviously), he knew that Erick was a historical author (he had gone and bought all of his work and read it within a week, pleasantly surprised by the standard of it), he knew he was Jewish, that he grew up in Germany (and oh, the way Charles' body reacted when he heard him speaking in German for the first time), that he was gay, which Charles thought was rather important, and that he was single (not that Charles cared).

The list went on, of course, but those things were the things that stuck. With each new fact Charles found out about Erik, he fell for the man a little harder.

And as he fell harder, the more determined he was to lie to himself about it.


Charles was cleaning the tables at the back; it was just Alex, Moira, Emma and him working today and he had wanted a break from working behind the counter. Moira was in the kitchen, Emma was doing whatever Emma did and Alex was standing behind the counter waiting for a customer. It was a slow day once again, but there were a few casuals sitting around the place, college students sitting with their laptops and an ungodly amount of coffee cups surrounding them.

It was needless to say Charles was scared shitless when he felt someone place a hand on the small of his back. He jumped and turned around, his chest heaving and his hands raised as if to protect himself.

He was surprised to see Erik standing there with his hands up, as if surrendering.

"Whoa, sorry," he said, voice a gentler tone than Charles had ever heard. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Charles visibly relaxed and smiled as Erik came closer. "Can I help you, Erik?"

Erik was about to reply when he saw a slight bruise on the corner of Charles' jaw. He reached his hand up, grabbing Charles' face, "What happened?"

There was a hitch in Charles' breathing and he shut his eyes. "Nothing," he said, "it's nothing."

Erik held on, rubbing his thumb gently over the bruise, "This isn't nothing, Charles."

Charles pulled his head out of Erik's grip and took a step back. "Leave it, Erik. Please."

"But-"

"But nothing." Alex yelled out from the counter for Charles, there were more customers coming in and he needed more help. "I'll see you later, Erik."

Erik sighed and watched him leave.


I'm sorry if I pushed you before, darling. I'm just worried.

Charles read the text and sighed. He was so screwed.


"We need to talk about Charles."

Sean nodded, "He's spending too much time with Lehnsherr."

It was just Sean, Alex and Emma working out front that day, Charles had the day off once again.

Alex hummed in agreement. "Did you see them yesterday?" Sean shook his head and Alex sighed, "It was the start of rush hour and Charles was cleaning the tables at the back. Lehnsherr came in and went straight to Charles and," he paused, clearing his throat and lowering his voice, "He went up behind Charles and put his hand on his back-"

"HE WHAT?" Sean yelled, catching the attention of the other customers, "Sorry," he called out.

Alex rolled his eyes, "Thank you, for that."

"We need to talk to Charles. He just doesn't see it, does he? Lehnsherr is a creep. He's brainwashing him, I tell you! And he's like, 40." Sean shook his head again, "Charles doesn't need a forty year old! Charles doesn't need anyone! It needs to stop right now, Alex. Charles doesn't have my blessing!"

"I don't think Charles really needs your blessing for anything, Sean."

"Yes, he does. Especially when it comes to Lehnsherr."

Alex sighed as a group of customers walked in.


Good morning, darling. I hope you have a wonderful day.

Charles smiled at his phone; he'd never received a good morning text before.


"There's going to be a staff meeting tomorrow. Charles will be here and we need to discuss the Lehnsherr situation."


"We need to talk about Charles."

A sigh, "Emma."

Emma pushed Erik out of the way, walking into the apartment; she had gone over to Erik's apartment right after she had closed the Café for the day. The staff didn't know, but Emma had actually known Erik for a long time. They had met in collage and had kept a weird relationship since. It wasn't that they didn't like each other; it was just that that they couldn't stand to be around each other for too long. Their personalities tended to clash.

Erik rolled his eyes at the woman, "Please, make yourself at home."

Emma did, walking over to where he kept his liquor and pouring herself a glass. "What do you want with Charles, Erik? He's just a boy. A pretty, intelligent one that's beyond his years, but he's a boy. He's in highschool, for god's sake." She took a long sip from the glass. "If you're playing with him, Erik, so god hel-"

"I'm not."

"Then what?" she turned to look at him, "It's barely been two months and the kid is pretty much in love with you. I don't know what you've done, but he really fucking likes you, Erik."

Erik groaned, rolling his eyes. "I haven't done anything to him! All we do is talk. Talk! There is nothing harmful in talking to me, is there? I'm not some type of fucking crack head serial killer everyone seems to think I am."

"Then ho-" Emma tried to cut in but Erik wouldn't let her talk.

"Has it ever occurred to you that Charles might like me without me doing anything to him? Has it ever occurred to you that I might like Charles? "

"Please, I know you, Erik. You don't like people. You fuck them and then you leave them."

"If I only wanted to fuck Charles, explain why I'm still talking to him. If that's all I wanted, I can assure you, I would have got it by now." Erik clenched his teeth, "You know it's true, Emma."

"He's seventeen, Erik."

"So?"

"He's still a fucking kid!"

"He's young, I'm not denying that, but he is not a kid."

"I swear to god, Erik," Emma started, moving closer to Erik, "If you hurt that boy, I will rip your head off."

Erik sighed and sat down. "I have no intentions to hurt him, okay? That's the last thing I want."


I miss you.

Charles had been staring at the text for the last ten minutes, his finger hovering over the send button.

It was true, he did miss Erik. A lot, actually. He felt quite ridiculous about it, too, considering they'd spoken that morning, the briefness of the conversation notwithstanding.

He sighed to his empty room, shifting to sit up in his bed. Erik hadn't texted him that much since the last time they had seen each other, Charles understood that Erik might think he was annoyed at him for what had happened. It was nothing really; it had just surprised Charles when the man had grabbed his face. No one had ever really noticed the bruises he always seemed to have.

It was pathetic, really. He was a seventeen year old boy sitting in bed on a Wednesday night, staring at his phone and contemplating weather or not to send a message to a thirty something year old man he met at a café and who, apparently, had a rather large range of issues and who was considered to be a variety of things ranging from a serial killer to that guy that eats the neighbours pets. Charles didn't know if he should laugh or cry.

It was ridiculous, he was just not going to send anything to Erik and ignore everything all together. Yes, that seemed like a reasonably good idea to Charles. The little voice in his head saying that he knew that wasn't true and come on you miss him, Charles, send the message went ignored.

Expect, as he pressed down on the screen to bring the brightness back up, he accidently pressed the send button.

Charles' eyes widened and, on impulse, he threw his phone to the other side of the room, refusing to believe he had just sent it.

The word fuck ran through his head like a mantra.


It had been ten minutes.

Not that Charles was counting, of course.

But in those ten minutes Charles had gone to get his phone, frowning when he saw the small crack left in the bottom right corner of the screen and had, once again, sat staring at his phone.

It had now been eleven minutes and Erik still hadn't replied.

Charles was starting to rethink every life decision he had ever made.


Sixteen minutes, the longest sixteen minutes of his entire life, went by before Charles got a reply.

It was embarrassing how quickly he unlocked his phone when it lit up with Erik's name.

Sorry, was taking a shower.

Charles tried not to think of the older man in the shower, he really did. He should be worrying about Erik not acknowledging what he had actually sent.

I miss you too, my darling.

Ah. Charles most certainly did not blush at the term of endearment.

Yours?

Mmhm, mine.

Shouldn't you ask first?

I already know the answer.

Rather confident in your abilities, aren't you?

Within good reason.

You're ridiculous.

And you're adorable.

Mmhm, sure.

You doubt me?

Within good reason.

:(

Whoever said you aren't adorable has obviously never seen you blush.

You're blushing right now, aren't you?

Shut up.

I'm right, aren't I?

No

Yes

Nope

Uh huh

:(

:)

I hate you.

I beg to differ.

No, I really hate you.

They say there's a thin line between love and hate.

Fine, I dislike you at an extreme level.

:(

Please like me again. Charles.

You're gonna have to try harder than that.

I'll buy you more cake.

Okay.

I can die happy.

:)

It's late, you should sleep.

I'd rather talk to you.

Get some sleep, my darling.

Goodnight, Erik.


There was something off about this staff meeting, Charles thought.

Not that staff meetings were ever very normal, but this one was different. The atmosphere was almost tense. It was like the other staff members, Alex, Sean and Emma more than anyone else, were dancing around something. And from the side glances everyone kept shooting his way, Charles had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with him.

Charles was a patient person, but this was getting annoying rather quickly. "Look, I know there's something you want to say, so if we could please address the elephant in the room and speed things up a bit?"

Alex pursed his lips and looked away, Sean turned to Alex, Emma sighed, Moira tried to look confused and Scott just looked bored.

Charles looked around at everyone again, the confusion evident on his face, "What?"

No one replied,

"You don't," he paused, "You aren't firing me, are you?"

"NO!" Sean yelled and Charles jumped slightly, "Look, what we want to say is.."

"Charles," Alex started, "We, well…"

"What Alex is trying to say is that, uh," Sean tried helping, "We wanted to…"

"We've noticed that you, uh," that was Alex again.

Charles was starting to get annoyed, "I've what?" Sean mumbled something that Charles didn't understand. "What?"

Emma rolled her eyes, "Thank you, Sean and Alex for making this harder than it needs to be," she looked at the two, who in return looked down, "What these two are so eloquently trying to say is everyone here has noticed that you and Lehnsherr are getting a bit cosy with each other and some of us are having some issues with it."

Charles raised an eyebrow, "You cannot be serious."

"He's bad news, Charles," that was Alex, "We just don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Nothing bad has happened to me!"

"Well, no," Sean stated, "but something could, and we want to prevent that."

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose, "I don't understand why you're all so worried."

"Look, Charles," Moira piped up, "I don't mean to be rude, but even you have to admit that Lehnsherr is a bit, well," she paused, "Creepy."

"No, actually," Charles replied, standing up, "Erik has never been anything but nice to me. Not once has he given off a vibe that screams serial killer, not once has he done anything that had put me in some type of danger. I can't comprehend how all of these ridiculous rumours have come about; I don't see what he has done that has made all of you think he's some type of creepy criminal!."

"Think about it, Charles," Alex said, "Rumours like that don't just pop up from anywhere!"

"We don't want you to be in danger."

"I'm not in danger!" Charles shook his head again, his voice rising, "Besides, have you not noticed that all Erik and I do is talk. Talking is not putting me in danger. Talking isn't going to kill me. Erik and I talking is no reason to be making such a fuss. You're it out as if I've agreed to run away and marry him." Charles sat back down, leaning his arms on his knees and holding his hand in his face.

"Think about the age gap, Charles," that was Moira again, "It's not normal for someone in their forties to hang around with a seventeen year old boy."

Charles rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Emma's slight snort. He looked over to her and she smiled at him, "Lehnsherr isn't in his forties, sugar."

"He looks it," Moira defended herself.

Emma rolled her eyes, "Erik's twenty nine, thirty in January. I know he looks older than what he is but he doesn't look forty."

"How do you know?" Sean asked.

"What?"

"How do you know that about Lehnsherr?"

"Does it really matter?"

"Yes," Alex said, facing towards Emma.

"Fine," Emma sighed and picked off the non-existent fluff from the stark white jacket she had on, "I knew him when we were at collage. You could say we were friends," she made an odd face, "After he graduated though, I barely spoke to him. Not until he walked into an old café I used to work in."

"WHAT?"

"Oh my god."

"Traitor!"

"For fuck sakes," that came from Scott. All the other members of the staff turned to look at him, surprised. It was the first thing he had said throughout the entire meeting. "This is ridiculous; I don't understand why you're all making such a big deal out of it."

"Because-"

"Because nothing. The three of you make such a big fucking deal over everything. It doesn't matter if Emma knew Lehnsherr way back when." Scott paused, looking over to Charles, "Nor does it matter if Charles is off fucking him."

Charles cheeks burned, "I'm not sleeping with Erik."

Sean was shaking his head and murmuring under his breath.

Scott rolled his eyes, "Fine, but that doesn't mean you don't want to be off shaking up with the guy."

"I do not."

"Sure, sugar," Emma said, smirking, "But I bet he wouldn't mind bending you ove-"

"Okay! That's enough." Charles all but yelled, his cheeks burning red, "I think I'm going to go now, thank you, I'll see you all tomorrow."

Charles could hear Emma's laugh as he turned and left, leaving his employees behind.


Charles was sure he had broken many driving laws when he was driving home, his annoyance from the meeting still affecting him. He ignored his family when he got home and went straight to his father's old study, sitting in the overly stuffed couch his father had put there for his young self. He got out his phone and texted Erik, not wanting to speak to anyone else.

:(

He didn't have to wait long for a reply. Smiling when he got it.

What's up, buttercup?

I hate staff meetings.

Oh no. Do I need to hurt anyone?

You're not really helping your image.

No idea what you're talking about, Charles. I'm a perfect little saint.

Hardly little.

Are you calling me chubby?

You have been buying a lot of cake lately.

Charles!

Erik!

:(

You're mean.

Not really.

Mmhmm.

You're too sensitive.

I am many things, Xavier, but sensitive is not one of them.

Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Charrrrrrlessss.

Eriiiiik.

Are you still upset?

Yes.

You're helping, though.

Where are you?

My father's old study.

Is anyone with you?

No, why?

Charles' reply was Erik's name popping up on his phone screen. He smiled and answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Hello, my darling," Charles smiled at Erik's voice and leant back against the couch.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm attempting to cheer you up by offering you the privilege of my company."

Charles laughed, "Talking to me on the phone isn't really offering me your company."

"Then you get the privilege of hearing my voice and having my full attention, how's that?"

"Mmm," Charles closed his eyes, some of the stress and tension from that day leaving his body as Erik's voice washed over him. "It's good."

"Now, are you going to tell me what it is that happened at this staff meeting of yours?" Erik's voice was soft and gentle; a tone Charles had only ever heard the older man use with him, "I don't want you to be upset."

"I'm not upset, not really," he sighed, "Just annoyed."

"What did they say?"

"Some of them really don't like you."

"Ah," Erik paused, "Are you annoyed because they said bad things about me or are you annoyed because they said things about you and me?"

"None, both, I don't know." Charles let out a small groan, "I don't understand why they're so worried, it has nothing to do with them. The think you're going to just turn around one day and kill me or something, Erik."

"Well, considering what they think of me I can understand why they think that."

"But they have no reason to think it. You've been nothing but nice to me."

"Exactly. I've been nice to you, Charles, I haven't always been nice to them. You're rather special."

"That's still not a reason to be acting like they are."

"I suppose there isn't much we can do to make them realise I'm not hurting you, and that I don't plan to hurt you." Erik sighed, "I don't think their opinion of me is going to change very soon. Especially if they think I'm plotting your murder."

Charles pouted, "It's all rather stupid."

"Charles?"

"What?"

"Are you pouting?"

"No."

"I think you are."

"I'm not!"

"It's too bad I'm not there to see it. it's be rather adorable, I think."

"…"

Erik laughed, "And now you're blushing."

"Shuddup."

"Cutie."

"This isn't funny."

"It's not meant to be, my darling."

"Errrrrikkkkk."

"Whaaaaaat?" Erik drawled, mirth still evident in his voice.

"I am disliking you on an extreme level again."

"You have an odd way of flirting, Charles Xavier."

Charles blushed again, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to reply, "I'm not, we're not, I am-"

"Charles?"

"What?"

"I'm joking."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

Charles didn't reply and there was a short pause between the two before Erik broke it. "I miss you, my darling. I haven't seen you all week."

"We've spoken almost every day."

"But that doesn't mean I've been blessed with the sight of you for nearly a week."

"The sight of me isn't really anything special."

"I beg to differ, my darling."

"Are you calling me attractive, Erik?"

"Maybe."

"That's a first."

"What?" Erik sounded surprised, "No one's ever said you're good looking before?"

"Girls have, but a guy never has."

"Well," Erik paused, Charles could actually hear the smile in the man's voice, "It's true."

"Well, duh," Charles smiled, "What else would you expect?"

Erik laughed, "Very modest, my darling."

"Mmhm."

"Have I succeeded in cheering you up?"

"A little."

"Only a little?"

"A lot."

"That's better."

Charles smiled again, "Thank you, Erik."

"What else am I here for, my darling?"

That night, when Charles crawled into bed, fresh off the phone with Erik and a smile firmly placed on his lips, he thought about his life. He thought about how, ever since his father died, he had never really been happy. At least, not until now.


He thought in numbers, going through each year of his life, amazed at how much had changed without him really noticing.

He was four when Raven came into his life. He was eight when his father died and his mother started to drink. He was nine when his mother remarried, bringing Kurt and Cain into his life. He was ten when his step father hit him for the first time. He was eleven when his mother started to really drink. He was twelve when he realised he was different from the other boys his age. He was thirteen when his step brother broke his arm. He was fourteen when he told Raven he was gay. He was fifteen when Raven left for collage. He was sixteen when he first kissed someone.

He was seventeen when he fell in love.


The drunken voice of his step-father echoed within Charles' head as he ran out of his family's large home. He didn't care that it was nearly three in the morning, he didn't care that it was dark, or that it was raining pretty heavily. He needed out, he needed to be as far away from his family as his body could take him.

Dressed in only a plain short sleeved black t-shirt, flannel pyjamas pants and the old running shoes he had hastily put on when his step-father had called for him (oh how he should have pretended to be asleep), Charles ran down the driveway of his home and out to the road. He ran as fast as he could, not caring what direction he went. The cold went unnoticed, as did the pain from being hit, the howling of the wind the only thing he could hear.

He didn't know how long he ran for, but he ended up stopping as he reached the neighbourhood's park. His chest heaving and his tongue tasting like blood, he collapsed on a bench, hoping no one else was around. He reached into his pockets to see if he had thought to grab his phone, thanking his lucky stars when his hand closed over the object. He pulled it out and bent his upper body over slightly to protect it from the rain.

Charles didn't think about the time as he unlocked his phone, he didn't think about his trembling body as he opened his contacts list and found Erik's name, he didn't think about how sobs were racking his body, ( that surprised Charles, he didn't know he had started to cry) as he pressed call.

"Please, Erik," he whispered as he heard the first ring, "Please be a-awake."

Another ring.

"Please," Charles sobbed, clutching the phone with both hands so he didn't drop it.

Another ring.

"Erik, p-please."

Another ring.

"P-please." He began rocking back and forth.

Another ring.

"Erik," he sobbed, "Please pi-"

"Charles?" the voice was quiet, croaky.

"-ck up the ph- phone."

"Charles?" Erik sounded more alert this time; a rustle of sheets could be heard.

"Erik-k." Charles sighed, relief washing over him as he heard the other man's voice.

"Charles, what's wrong?"

"I," he stuttered, his teeth chattering from the cold, "I need," Charles paused, he wasn't getting enough air in, his breaths coming in quick, shaky gaps.

"Charles, where are you?" Erik sounded like he was moving around in a hurry.

"I, uh," he clutched the phone tighter, "I'm in a p-park."

"What park, baby?" Erik's voice was gentle, the concern evident. Charles heard the sound of a door being slammed.

"The one ne-," Charles choked on a sob, "The one n-near the c-café."

Charles heard an engine start, "I'm going to come and get you, alright, darling?"

Charles continued to rock back and forth, his sobs subsiding a little, "Mmmhmm."

"I'm going to put you on loud speaker. I want you to stay on the phone, okay?"

"O-" Charles hiccupped, "Okay."

"I won't be long, baby, okay?"

Charles nodded, forgetting Erik couldn't see him through the phone. "I'm s-so sorry, Erik."

"Don't be sorry, my darling," Erik's voice was still the gentle tone he only ever used with Charles, "I'm glad you called me. You can always call me if you need help, baby, it doesn't matter what time it is, alright?"

"Okay," Charles' teeth where chattering, the cold was really starting to kick in.

"I'm nearly there, darling."

"It's s-so c-cold."

Charles heard Erick swear softly before sighing, "I know, darling. I'm almost there."

It was ten minutes before Erik arrived; ten agonising minutes where Charles continued to rock himself as Erik's voice came through the phone trying to comfort him. Charles heard and saw the car skid to a stop on the road near him; he hung up the phone as he saw the lean figure step out of the car and start running towards him. His entire body was trembling when Erik knelt down in front of him, dressed in what Charles guessed where his pyjamas and his face a look of alarm.

"Holy shit, Charles," Erik exclaimed, taking in the shivering boy with a tear and bruise stained face. He took in what the younger boy was wearing and stood up, grabbing Charles and embracing him tightly.

"E-erik," Charles tucked his head into the crook of Erik's neck, his teeth still chattering.

"Shh, darling," he kissed the top of the boys dripping hair and drew back, grabbing Charles' hands. "Come on, darling, you need to warm up." Charles nodded and Erik tugged him along to the car, opening the door for Charles to get in.

Charles just stared at him, "I'll get y-your car w-wet."

"I don't care, get in."

Charles got in, breathing a sigh of relief when he noticed the heater was on. Erik ran to the other side and jumped back in the car, also drenched from the rain. He leant over the middle and searched for something in the back seat, pulling out a small blanket and giving it to Charles. Charles smiled slightly and wrapped himself in the blanket as much as he could. Running out in the middle of the night in limited clothing while it was raining was not one of the best ideas he'd ever had.

Erik started the car, "You're going to be sick tomorrow."

"Probably," Charles murmured, burying his face into the blanket. It was soaking the water up more than it was keeping him warm, but still, it helped.

"You're lucky it wasn't snowing."

Charles made a noise of agreement and attempted to pull the blanket even tighter around himself.

Erik sighed, "I'm not going to ask you what happened until tomorrow. Nor am I going to take you back to your house. Obviously there's something there that you don't want to be around."

"Thank you," Charles whispered, turning his face slightly to look at the other man.

"Right now I'm going to take you back to my apartment and get you warmed up, alright, darling?"

A nervous flutter broke in Charles' stomach at the mention of going to Erik's apartment, but he nodded nonetheless.


"What if we wake your neighbours up?"

"Charles, all we have to do is walk through two doors. I live on the first floor, in fact, most of first floor is mine."

"Yeah, bu-"

"Just walk, darling."

Charles sighed and got out the car, letting the other man place his arm over his shoulders and pull him towards the apartment complex. He still had the blanket around him, his clothes and hair were still drenched and his body was still shaking slightly but the heater in the car had warmed him up a bit.

Erik quickly got them into the building and to his door, opening it and pushing Charles in. He grabbed Charles' wrist and tugged the boy down the small hallway and into another one, not giving Charles a chance to look around properly. He brought Charles into the main bathroom of his apartment, leaning into the shower and turning on the hot water.

Erik turned to Charles and gently pulled the blanket off of him, "Charles, I want you to get in and warm up. It doesn't matter how long you're in there for, okay?"

Charles nodded, looking slightly awkward.

Erik smiled faintly and left, calling out as he went, "I'll come back later with some clothes for you to change into, darling."


Charles knew he probably should not have been thinking about how he was naked in Erik's apartment. There were bigger, more important thing he should have been thinking about; like how he had just quite literally ran away from home. But, Charles was a seventeen year old boy.

He let the hot water run over his body, sighing in relief when he finally started to warm up. He leant his forehead against the tiles of Erik's bathroom and let the water fall over his back. It was nice, he felt calm. He felt safe.

He jumped about three foot in the air and hastily tried to cover himself with his hands when he heard the bathroom door open and Erik walk in,

"Jesus, fuck, Erik!"

The other man chuckled, "Sorry, darling, I'm just here to drop off the clothes and take your other ones."

"Don't you knock?"

"I do. I'm just not accustomed to doing in in my own apartment. It's not like I can see anything anyway, darling."

"Still," Charles mumbled.

"I can assure you, though, that I would ask before walking into the actual shower with you."

Erik laughed and left the room, leaving Charles blushing and trying to form an intelligent response.


Charles got out of the shower not long after that, he didn't want to leave Erik alone for too long.

He stepped out of the shower and towelled himself dry, smiling at the neatly placed clothes Erik had given him. Another nervous flutter broke in Charles' stomach as he realised the clothes had to belong to Erik. He quickly put on the black pyjama pants and grey sweatshirt, half laughing and half groaning when he realised the clothes were about three sizes too big for him. At least they were warm.

"Erik?" Charles called out when he left the bathroom.

"I'm in the kitchen," was the loud response he got.

"Am I supposed to know where that is?"

"Yes," Erik called, stepping out in front of Charles. He took one look at the younger man and burst out laughing. "Oh my god, Charles." Erik had also changed into clothing, similar to what he was wearing before, just dry.

Charles glared at him, "It's not funny."

"It is," Erik nodded and walked closer, still giggling, "You look incredibly adorable, my darling. My clothes have never looked better."

Erik laughed again and Charles pouted, "It's not my fault I'm tiny."

"I never said it was a bad thing." Charles continued to pout and Erik reached his hand up to touch the boy's face, grinning when Charles blushed without moving away. He let his hand drop and turned away, walking back to the kitchen, "I've made tea. Do you want some?"

Charles hummed his agreement as he looked around the open studio-like apartment. He took in the vastness of the rooms, each one spacious and comfortable; for some reason he hadn't expected Erik to live somewhere so large. The place wasn't messy, but it wasn't ridiculously neat like Charles' house always seemed to be. Lived-in a voice in his head supplied; it was true, there were things strewn all over the kitchen and living room to suggest someone lived there. A coat thrown against the back on his lounge, a pair of shoes left near the door. There were books left on counters, post-it notes and writing pads alongside them. Charles smiled as he took in the three large book shelves that took up half of the wall space; the shelves weren't just filled with books, there were DVDs, a few photographs and odd ornaments. Charles thought he might have seen a cactus or two.

Charles turned back to Erik when he heard a cup being placed on the counter behind him. Smiling his thanks as he grabbed the tea and took a sip, "I like your apartment."

"You've only seen three rooms. There's another three for you to see, four if you count the laundry room. "

Charles rolled his eyes, "Then I like those three rooms and look forward to seeing the other ones. How's that?"

"Better," Erik replied, drinking some of his tea, "I hope you know that you've just said you look forward to seeing my bedroom."

Charles' eyes widened and he blushed, "I, uh-"

Erik laughed, "Don't worry, darling." Charles didn't say anything, just took another long sip from his cup. "I'm glad you like it. I do, too," he paused. "Most of the time, anyway. It's a bit big for just one person."

"Mmmhm," Charles hummed, "Too bad you don't live higher up. You'd probably get a nice view."

Erik made a face, "Stairs."

Charles laughed, "Lazy."

Erik scoffed, "I am so not lazy."

"Sure," Charles dragged the word out.

Erik shook his head and moved closer to the boy, frowning when he saw the bruise on his left cheek. "Is there anything I can do to help with that?"

Charles looked down when he noticed what the other man was referring to, "No."

Erik sighed, "Are you sure? It looks pretty bad."

"I've had worse," Charles' eyes widened as the words left his mouth. He swore under his breath.

"If I ask, will you tell me?"

"I," Charles paused and look up back into Erik's eyes, "No," he said, "Not yet, anyway."

Erik nodded, "Then I won't ask."

Charles smiled faintly at the other man and had more tea, "Thank you."

"Not a problem, darling." Erik shrugged, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Charles nodded.

"Then how about I show you those other three rooms?"

Charles smiled and put down his mug next to Erik's, following the man down a hallway. Erik stopped at the door next to the bathroom, the only other one on the left side of the hallway.

"This, darling, is where the magic happens." Charles laughed at the term and expected to see Erik's bedroom when he opened the door. He did not expect to see Erik's study when the room filled with light.

The study was messier than the other rooms Charles had seen. Charles took in the large desk in the corner, the stacks of books and research logs piled on it with pens and all different types of coloured paper strewn across it. He took in both the PC and the laptop, noticing how they were on different ends of the desk. Out of the four walls, one was taken up mostly from windows, one was completely covered in bookshelves containing what looked like journals, folders and binders, another was covered in post-it notes and pieces of paper pinned up to the wall and the other, Charles laughed, was nearly completely covered in posters containing puns from various times in history.

"Those are ridiculous."

"I know." Erik grinned, "They're all gifts from when I was still studying," he laughed, "Horrible gifts, but I still find them funny."

Charles turned to Erik and smiled, "So this is where you work?"

Erik nodded, "It's rather messy at the moment because I'm in the middle of writing another book, but this is where I create my master pieces."

Charles rolled his eyes, "What's it going to be about?"

"I'm doing Russian history this time," said Erik, leaning against the door frame, "The fall of Imperial Russia."

"Interesting."

Erik hummed, "Russian history is interesting," he paused and smiled at Charles. "I expect you to be one of the first to read my book."

"So I can be the first to tell you what complete rubbish it is?"

Erik glared and pretended to look affronted, "How dare you, Charles?" he exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart. "We all know everything I do is perfect."

"Says who?"

"Says everyone."

"Whatever you say, Lehnsherr."

Erik just shook his head, "Next room?"

Charles hummed and the nervous flutter came back as he realised the next room would have to be the bedroom.

He was going to see Erik's bedroom.

He was going to see Lehnsherr's bedroom.

He could practically hear Alex and Sean screaming at him to run and hide.

Nevertheless, Charles stifled a yawn and continued to follow Erik out of the study and back into the hall way, his nerves increasing with every second. He didn't understand why he was so nervous; it wasn't like they were going to do anything.

"I can't believe you're giving me a tour of you apartment at nearly four in the morning."

Erik laughed and stood in front of his bedroom door, "I suppose it's not the most normal thing to do."

"Would never have guessed," the sarcasm in his voice was evident.

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed the doorhandle, "Prepare to be amazed."

"You're making this a big thing."

"Am not."

"You're almost talking up your bedroom."

"I'll have you know that my bedroom is rather nice."

"I'll be the judge of that," Charles paused, "If you ever open the door."

Erik stuck his tongue out and opened the door, ignoring Charles laugh and the whispered mature. He turned on the light and walked in, half jumping on his unmade bed and turning so he was facing Charles.

Charles looked around the room, taking in the large wardrobe that took up the entire right wall; noticing the one open draw with clothes hanging out slightly. He noticed the other objects in the room; the bedside tables, the rather odd looking couch in the corner, the black carpet, the silver-ish white walls, and the black chest of drawers that was covered in photo frames. His main focus, however, was the large bed in the middle of the room and the beautiful man on it.

"What do you think?"

"It's rather messy," Charles said, rubbing at his eyes. He was starting to feel really tired and Erik's bed looked rather comfortable.

Erik chuckled and threw a pillow at him, "Well, I did have to jump out of bed and find more clothes to put on when you called, darling. I promise, if I had of had the time, the entire place would be spotless and up to your standards."

Charles caught the pillow and cringed slightly, "I'm sorry for waking you up at su-"

"I don't want to hear it, Charles. I'm glad you called me." Charles opened his mouth again, probably to protest.

"Come here."

"What?"

"Come here," Erik repeated, sitting up against the bed's headboard and patting the bed next to him.

Charles' stomach did a flip as he walked over to Erik, clutching the pillow and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I meant what I said before, my darling," Erik said, "If you need help, it doesn't matter with what, you can call me. I don't care if it's in the middle of the day or in the middle of the night. I don't want you suffering if there's an opportunity for me to help. Okay?"

Charles nodded.

"Okay?" Erik repeated.

Charles rolled his eyes, "Yes, okay."

Erik grinned that big, toothy grin of his and Charles couldn't help smiling back.

"I know there are two other rooms, but they're boring. One's the ensuite, which is more or less the same as the bathroom and the other just has a washer and a dryer. Not really important. I can show you them if you really want to see them, though."

Charles shook his head and covered his mouth to stifle a yawn. It was just passed four in the morning and Charles felt like he could sleep for the next day or two.

"Tired, darling?"

"Mmhm," Charles hummed through another yawn.

"Lie down and get some rest, darling."

"I can't take your bed away from you."

"Don't be ridiculous, Charles. It would be a pleasure to have you in my bed."

Charles blushed and glared at the other man. He swore Erik said things like that solely to make him blush. The grin he got in return for his glare only supported his argument.

"I can't take your bed away from you after at four in the morning when I've just woken you up, Erik."

"Nonsense," Erik waved a hand, dismissing Charles' protests, "Make yourself comfortable while I go and turn all the lights off." Erik stated, giving him another smile and leaving the room.

Charles gave in and did as he was told, not that it was hard to do; Erik's bed was ridiculously comfortable. Charles pulled the blankets up to his shoulders and smiled when he smelt Erik all over the sheets. He didn't have to wait long for Erik to come back into the room, turning the light off and walking to sit on the edge next to Charles.

"I think I might be able to get back to sleep, too, darling. If you need anything I'll be on the couch, okay?"

Charles shook his head.

"No?"

"Don't leave me," he whispered sleepily, looking up at Erik.

Erik took one look at the younger boy and smiled faintly, "You don't mind if…" he trailed off, standing and going over to the other side of the bed when Charles shook his head again. "You're lucky you sleep on the left side. I would have had to kick you out altogether if you took the right side."

Charles laughed and turned so he was facing Erik. "Lucky me, then."

"Lucky you," Erik replied, getting comfortable.

"Please tell me you don't hog all the blankets."

"I could tell you that, but it would probably be a lie."

Charles pouted and Erik laughed. "For you, though, darling, I'll try hard not to."

"Thank you."

Erik hummed, "Goodnight, my darling."

Charles mumbled a response through another yawn. He fell asleep not long after. It didn't take long for Erik to follow.


When Charles wakes late the next day, it's to the feeling of someone else's body pressed against his.

Without opening his eyes, he shifted his body closer to the one behind his, making a sound somewhere between a moan and a grunt. The other body was warm and solid against his back, long, muscular arms firmly placed around Charles' smaller frame. Barely awake, Charles could feel the soft puffs of breath against that back of his neck, the little hairs there standing to attention. Charles sighed again, subconsciously moving one of his hands to sit atop the ones clasped around his abdomen. The blankets were only covering half of their bodies but Charles was still warm, the body next to him radiating body heat. The position was comfortable; he seemed to fit perfectly with the other body. Ling there, he felt calm.

Intertwined with the other body, Charles felt safe. He felt protected.

However, as Charles grew more aware of his surroundings, as he remembered where he was and what had happened the night before, his body went rigid. His stomach filled with nerves and he had the sudden impulse to rip away from the other body and leave the room altogether.

He didn't though, probably couldn't. Charles felt too content where he was; if Erik allowed him he'd probably stay there forever. There was also the issue of waking Erik up. Charles was positive that as soon as Erik woke up he'd let go of Charles and leave. That, Charles thought, was something he probably couldn't bear. So, instead of running off and waking Erik, he stayed perfectly still, listening to the other's breathing. It took a minute or two, but Charles slowly relaxed back into the embrace, muscle by muscle, limb by limb.

Charles smiled to himself and leans even further towards Erik and concentrates on the feeling of lying there. He focuses all of his attention of how Erik's body feels against his, on how Erik's arms feel wrapped around his torso. He takes note of how Erik's breath feels coming out in little puffs of air against his neck, and how the solidness of Erik's body behind his is, Charles thinks, probably the most comforting thing he has ever felt. He basks in the feeling of protection laying with Erik gives him. He studies it, tries to feel everything; because Erik could wake up at any minute, could jump up and go at any second and if that happens, Charles doesn't want to forget what this feels like.

He never wants to forget what it feels like to be intertwined with Erik.


Not long after he wakes up, Charles hears a groan come from behind him. His body stiffens again and he waits for Erik to realise what's going on. He waits for Erik to pull away, he expects Erik to tell him to leave.

What he doesn't expect is for Erik's arms to tighten their embrace on his body and for him to curl even further around Charles, or for Erik to nuzzle his face into one of his shoulders.

He does not expect a groggy good morning, my darling instead of a demand for him to leave.

Nevertheless, he can't help but smiling to himself, "I don't think it's morning anymore, Erik," is his whispered reply.

Charles feels a warm puff of air through the fabric of the sweatshirt he's wearing as Erik lets out a small laugh, "Technicalities," he mumbles into Charles' shoulder.

Charles' smile widens and the nerves in his stomach give way to a fuzzy feeling he can't quite describe.

"I s'pose I should move."

The word no comes out of Charles mouth before he even registers the thought, "I mean, uh," he cleared his throat, "It's just, uh, I'm rather comfortable, aren't you?"

Erik hummed against Charles' shoulder, "I don't think I would've moved anyway, darling."

Erik sounds tired, as if he's still half asleep. Charles thinks he'd probably look all cute and cuddly, a lazy grin covering his face and his eyelids still heavy. He has to stop himself from turning around and seeing if he's right.

"Then why ask?"

"Formalities," Erik replies, his voice quiet. They're whispering to each other, as if speaking in their normal voices will break the calmness of the moment.

Charles huffs out a sigh that could be taken for a laugh and feels Erik smile against his shoulder before pulling back.

"You're also supposed to look at someone when you speak to them, I believe," Erik states, loosening his arms slightly.

Charles bites his lip to stop from smiling too large; he's starting to feel the pain from the bruises his step-father left on him. It takes him a minute, but Charles turns so he's facing Erik, his breath hitching slightly when he sees the other man. They're so close to each other and Erik, Charles thinks, looks adorable; like a sleep puppy or kitten. He can't help the smile that takes over his face when he sees how nice Erik looks, even when half asleep.

Unfortunately, Erik doesn't look half as happy. He frowns and clasps his hands behind Charles' back, holding him tightly. Charles can guess the reason for the frown; the bruise on his face hurts quite a bit, he can only imagine what it must look like now.

He shakes his head when Erik opens his mouth to speak, "I know you're going to ask what happened."

"Yes."

Charles bites his lip, contemplating whether or not he should tell Erik what had happened.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

Charles' breathing speeds up slightly, he knows he should say something. He really ought to offer up an explanation as to why he ran off in the middle of the night, at least. He owed Erik that much, he thought.

"Charles?" Erik's voice is still soft, gentle.

Part of him even wants to tell Erik. Not even just about last night, part of him wants to tell Erik everything; from start to finish.

"You don't have to, darling. You don't owe me anything," Erik's moves one of his hands slowly up and down Charles' back in a comforting gesture, "I'm not going to make you tell me anything."

There's a pause where Charles looked up into Erik's eyes, "When I was little, I spent most of my time with my father. Brian Xavier, his name was. I'd pretty much follow him around. He'd always let me though, always allowed me into things I probably shouldn't have been around. All the time I spent with him, it's what gave me such an interest in science, he worked with nuclear stuff most of the time. He used to let me help with his research," Charles eyes are slightly unfocused, but he still smiles fondly at the memories. "Well, I say help. I was probably a nuisance more than anything. Still, though, he didn't seem to mind. He never let me help with the dangerous stuff though, just little things, never any experiments. He said he'd allow it when I was older," Charles bit his lip again and cleared his throat.

"It's okay if you need to stop," Erik's hands never stopped their movements, and Charles was grateful for the light touch on his back.

Charles shook his head and took a deep breath, "One day, my father and his co-worker, Kurt Marko, my now step-father," Charles says the term with a tone of disgust Erik had never heard, "They were working on this really dangerous experiment, I forget what it was exactly, but something went wrong and there was a nuclear explosion. The lab caught fire; my father got trapped under all the rubble and couldn't move. Kurt got injured, but he could still move. He had the opportunity to rescue my father. Instead though, he ran and left him there to die," Charles' voice was shaky, "And he did," Charles paused, "I had only just turned eight."

Erik didn't say anything; he knew there wasn't anything he could say that would help. Instead, he reached one of his hands up and placed in on the back of Charles' head, gently pulling the boy against his chest and holding him tighter. Charles sighed and closed his eyes, allowing Erik's touch to comfort him.

"It went downhill from there, really. My mother started to binge drink, spending more and more time with Kurt. Basking in their grief," Charles voice, while still quiet, was sardonic. "Barely a year later she married him and he moved in with his son, Cain. Now my step-brother. Even at that age, I could tell he was only in it for my father's wealth," Charles sighed into Erik's shoulder, "I have to admit that at the beginning it wasn't so bad. Kurt and Cain mostly just left me alone, I spent most of my time in my father's study, out of everyone's way. My mother started to neglect me even more after my father died. My nanny said it was because I reminded her of him, but I doubt it."

Charles paused, snuggling into Erik, "Anyway, three or four months after they had moved in, things got bad. At first it was just Cain, it irked him that I did better than he did at most things. At first it was just petty things, name calling, rude remarks," Charles shook his head against Erik, "Then though, there was this test at school, I think. I did better, of course I did better; Cain isn't known for his brains. He ended up hitting me, quite a bit, actually. It became a habit after that."

"Some fucking habit," Erik half growled, causing Charles to smile faintly.

"I need you to promise me you won't get angry and do something irrational."

"Promise."

"My definition of irrational, not yours."

Erik sighed, "Okay."

Charles nodded, "My mother never noticed, by that time she was a full blown alcoholic, had no idea what was going on half the time. Kurt did, but he never said anything. Even praised Cain for doing it sometimes. There were staff members that noticed but Kurt eventually got rid of them all," Charles sighed again, breathing out a puff of warm air against Erik's throat, "By the time my eleventh birthday came round, Kurt had decided to join in. Apparently I was problematic and asked too many question. Every time I did something Kurt didn't like I'd end up getting hit."

The hand Erik had on Charles' back clenched, "I may have to retract my promise."

Charles sighed and pulled away from Erik, sitting up against the headboard and watching as Erik did the same, "I won't tell you the rest."

"Charles-"

"He makes me angry, too. Believe me, if I could I'd make him burn, Erik. I've never hated anyone as much as I despise him. Not even Cain. But you have to promise me. Not long and I get to leave, anyway."

Erik didn't look happy about it, but he grumbled out a fine through clenched teeth.

"Right, well. I do believe I've forgotten to mention Raven. She's my sister; well, my adopted sister, but still. Two years older than me, I was four when they adopted her. My father wanted a girl but my mother couldn't get pregnant again, too big a risk or something," Charles moved his neck from side to side, "In all honesty, Raven's the reason I got through all those years with him. Raven never got hit, not by Cain or Kurt. I never allowed it; she always got annoyed at me for it too, whenever I jumped in front of her she would always go off at me later, saying I didn't need to be putting myself through more of it because of her. I did need to though; I wouldn't have been able to bear it if they had touched her."

"It got worse as I grew older, of course. I started to talk back after a while. Raven said I was making it worse for myself, and in a way I was; the bigger smart ass I was, the more they'd hit me. For me, though, it made it easier, I don't know why," Charles ran his tongue over his bottom lip, "Anyway, when high school came around Cain was sent to a strict boarding school, which is great for me during the school year, the holidays and weekends he spends at home are hell though. It's like he saves all of his anger for me," Charles took another deep breath, "Not long after that, Raven left for collage. She wasn't going to, at first, said she wanted to be here for me. Eventually I convinced her, and now she's studying somewhere in LA. I forget the exact place but she seems to be enjoying it. But then, anything's probably better than being stuck in a house with an abusive step-family and a mother who can barely remember you, right?"

Erik reached his hand out slowly and grabbed Charles', intertwining their fingers together and rubbing his thumb against Charles' soft skin.

"My mother's been sick lately, something to do with her liver. The other week, the bruise you noticed, I got it when my stepfather found out about it. Yesterday we found out she's most likely going to die within the next year. But that's not why Kurt hit me, no. He was happy to hear the news; he thought he'd be getting my father's money. As he found out yesterday, however, he won't be," Charles smiled slightly, "At least, not a lot of it. My father's will said that if he died before Raven or I were eighteen, our mother would be in charge of the money, but once we were eighteen it was ours for us to do what we wanted. My mother got a portion of it, of course, but the bulk is belongs to Raven and me. Raven already has her share, and next week I'll get mine."

"Kurt didn't think about who my father left his wealth to. He thought the majority of it was left to my mother and that when she died he would end up getting most of it. As you can probably imagine, he wasn't too happy when he found out that wasn't the case. He got drunk, he threw a fit, he hit me and then left, then came back in the middle of the night and starting throwing another tantrum. I probably should have pretended to be asleep still, but he probably would have come up to my room to get me," Looking down, Charles took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, "I don't like when people yell, Erik. Hitting I can handle, but yelling has always affected me in a weird way. So when I got the opportunity, I ran. I ran as far and as fast as I could, and when I stopped, I called you."

There were a few moments of silence between them before Charles looked back over at Erik, watching as the other man tried to think of what to say, "I don't want you to say anything."

"What?"

"I've never told anyone that, the only other person that known most of that is Raven. I don't want you to say anything about it. I don't need you to."

"You can't honestly expect me to act as if you've just said none of that, Charles."

"I don't expect that, no," Charles said, "I want you to think about it; see if it clears any confusion you have regarding me. Most people don't know what to say to stuff like this; they usually go for the 'I'm so sorry' and 'I can't believe someone would do that' or 'if you ever need anything, you know I'm here' rubbish. I know you feel bad about it, Erik. I know they you're being honest when you say I can come to you for help. What you're thinking and feeling, I know. You don't have to say it."

Erik shook his head, "You amaze me, Charles Xavier."

"Of course I do. What else would you expect?" Charles grinned, clutching at Erik's hand, "I'm amazing."

Erik smiled faintly back, "Is there anything else you want?" Erik asked in that gentle tone of his, the one he only ever used with Charles.

"I wouldn't mind the permission to use your bathroom and some food."

Erik huffed out a laugh, "Truly incomprehensible, darling," he murmured, as he got out of bed. A bathroom break and some food didn't sound bad at all.


They were sitting next to each other at the kitchen bench, eggs, toast and tea in front of them. Erik had smiled sheepishly at Charles when he'd placed the plates on the bench, muttering a quiet I really need to do the shopping.

They ate in comfortable silence at first; it was odd, how they seemed to just fit into a domestic routine.

"I was right, you know."

"What?" Erik asked.

"It isn't morning. It's nearly one."

Erik rolled his eyes, "I texted Emma last night saying you wouldn't be coming in today."

"Shit," Charles eyes winded, "I forgot I had a shift."

"She said it's fine, as long as you show up tomorrow."

"That doesn't sound like Emma."

"It was worded differently, but that's what she said."

Charles sighed, "Thank you, I completely forgot."

"Always here to help, darling."


"I'm surprised you don't have any question," they were sitting on Erik lounge now, barely any space between them. The television was off; both preferring each other's company.

"I do."

"You can ask them, you know."

"How old is Cain?"

Charles smiled, that wasn't what he had been expecting, "He's seventeen, like me. Eighteen next June."

"Does anyone else know about the situation?"

"If they do, they haven't said anything."

Erik nodded, as if processing the information, "And, uh," he shifted awkwardly, "I don't mean to be offensive or anything, but-"

"How wealthy was my father?" Charles supplied, watch Erik as he nodded. The other man looked cute when awkward, Charles noticed. "I'm not going to give you numbers, because to be honest I don't know the exact ones. But my father was a millionaire. He took care of his money, he didn't waste it on anything or buy ridiculous things because he could; he said he wanted to make sure Raven and I had something when he died. My inheritance, it's enough to set me up for life. The house I live in now, if Raven agrees, is mine, along with a considerable amount of money."

Erik let out a low whistle, "Pretty good eighteenth birthday present."

Charles laughed, "Guess so."

"Speaking of birthdays," Erik continued, "You said you get your inheritance next week. Does that mean…?"

"I turn eighteen next week, yes. It's next Saturday, to be exact, November twenty-second."

"Charles, that is not enough notice to get you something amazing."

Charles smiled, "You don't need to get me anything."

Erik glared playfully at the younger man, "This isn't up for debate, darling. I will get you something amazing."

"Whatever you say, Erik."


It was nearly seven in the afternoon and Charles was sprawled out on one of Erik couches, his head resting in Erik's lap with a movie playing in the background that no one was really watching or listening to it. Both men were still dressed in their pyjamas; Charles because he didn't really have anything else to change into and Erik because he just wasn't bothered. They'd decided to order in, neither bothered to cook, resulting in empty pizza boxes on the coffee table.

Charles felt relaxed where he was, he felt calm. It was surprising how easily he fit into Erik's apartment. It was different, Charles thought, being in such a relaxed environment. It was nice.

Charles liked being in Erik's apartment, although he did have to admit that sometimes it was a bit much. Being so close to Erik and not being able to do anything. Erik seemed to have no sense of personal space when it came to Charles, he always had a hand on him, or at least one part of their bodies was always touching. Not that Charles minded, no; Charles was comfortable around Erik in a way he he'd never been with anyone else, not even Raven. It seems like Erik was comfortable around him, too; he always seems to act in a happier, more care-free way when he was around Charles.

It was surreal, how quickly he'd become attached to this man; this man that so many people seemed to be scared of. Charles still didn't understand why. He'd gotten to know Erik pretty well over the past few months, Charles thought, and the only thing that had suggested any of the rumours were true was the man's temper, how he'd be ready to hurt someone whenever he got angry. And that wasn't even unusual; a lot of people are like that when they're angry. Even Charles gets that way sometimes; it wasn't enough for him to believe Erik would actually severely hurt anyone, let alone kill them.

Despite everything, despite all the warnings he got from other people and the second-guessing, Charles wanted. Oh god did he want. He wanted Erik in a way he'd never wanted anyone or anything before. Sometimes, when he'd turn to look at Erik only to find the other man mere inches away from his face, he had to stop himself from leaning in and closing the gap. He wanted to discover Erik, to find out everything he possibly could.

Sometimes, he'd allow himself to think Erik wanted him back; because, really, sometimes it seemed like he did. They were too close; they acted too freely around each other. Charles knew that Erik flirted with him, (no man calls his friend my darling without reason), and he knew he flirted back. If he was honest, their banter was one of his favourite things about their relationship. Charles was positive that he'd mistake them as a couple if he were an onlooker.

He shifted his body, looking up into Erik's eyes. Erik smiled at him and moved a hand to run through Charles' hair.

Charles nearly whimpered at the touch.

Erik huffed a laugh, "You like that then, darling?"

"Mmhm," Charles hummed in agreement, closing his eyes.

"I get the feeling you want to ask something."

"I was just thinking."

"About?"

"Things," he murmured, "People have said about you."

Erik continued moving his hands through Charles hair, "I think it's about time I clear some stuff up. Ask me questions, or tell me things and I'll see if I can give you an answer that explains it."

Charles squinted at him, "Really?"

"Yes," Erik smiled, "I can't have you thinking I'm a serial killer."

"I can ask anything?" Charles asked, closing his eyes again and leaning into Erik's touch.

"Yes."

"How'd you meet Emma?"

"That wasn't what I was expecting."

"You still have to answer."

"I do," Erik paused, "Collage. We were friends, of sorts. We didn't see each other for a few years after I graduated but we always kept some type of contact."

Charles nodded; it matched up with what Emma had told him, "Not that I think you have, but it's a standard question: Ever killed anyone?"

Erik laughed, "No."

Charles smiled, "How old are you?"

"Twenty nine, thirty in January," Charles smiled, "What?"

"You look older."

"I do not."

"Mmmhm, Alex and Sean think you're in your forties."

"I'm not," Erik defended himself and Charles whined slightly when he stopped running his hands through his hair.

"Never said you were," replied Charles, "Please don't stop what you were doing."

"You remind me of a little kitten, Charles," he started moving his hand again, "Any minute now and you'll start meowing."

Charles sighed quietly in pleasure when Erik started moving his hand again, "I will not."

"Mmhm, sure," Erik laughed, "Next question."

"There's a second set of rules at the café," Charles started, "In relation to you. Do you know about them?"

"No."

"I think Sean made them, probably with Alex. They're ridiculous, really. But there's one that says something like 'do not piss Lehnsherr off, remember what happened last time'. What happened last time?"

There was a pause while Erik thought about it before suddenly, "Oh."

"Oh?"

"I forgot about that."

"About what?" Charles asked, opening his eyes and looking at Erik.

Erik looked back at him, "There was this guy that used to go out with Emma. Sebastian, his name was. He seemed like a bit of a deadbeat to me, but Emma liked him. She gave him a job, too, working out back in the Café," Erik cleared his throat, "Anyway, they ended up going out for a while, over a year, and he got more and more controlling, and annoying. One day I saw him out with another girl. Turns out he'd be cheating for a little over ten months; which was more than half of their relationship. Emma and I, while we haven't always spoken, are still good friends, Charles. She's like a little sister in a weird, motherly type of way. I didn't want to see her hurt, so I confronted him about it the next day. It just so happened he was working."

"Ah."

"Mmhm," Erik grinned guiltily, "We got into a fight, and I ended up breaking his jaw."

"Well," Charles said, thinking the information over, "I have to admit that explains quite a lot."

"That's the only time they've seen me do anything violent, I think. I can't think of anything else I've done."

"What happened to the guy?"

"He never came back."

"Did you tell Emma?"

Erik nodded, "I was forgiven for what I did straight away," Erik smiled fondly. "Have I scared you?"

"Hardly."

"Good."

"Do you know who comes up with some of the rumours?"

Erik shook his head,"I'm not known to back down from a fight. Nor am I known to lose one very often," Erik said, looking down at his hand, watching as it ran through the soft locks of Charles' hair. "I got in enough of them when I was younger, around twenty or so, for people to talk. I'm not exactly sure what they said, but I think whatever it was just got worse and worse as it moved from one person to another."

"Doesn't really explain why people think you're eating your neighbours' pets, though," Charles said, smirking.

Erik laughed, leaning his head against the couch, "A little girl's cat ran away a few months ago, apparently, and I've gotten the blame. I think she's told the kids who live around here and it's progressed."

Charles grinned, "I'd hate to think I have my head in the lap of a man who eats poor, harmless cats."

"Have you ever had a cat, Charles? They're hardly harmless."

"True. I've been victim to their claws a fair few times." Charles paused, "I have my next question."

Erik nodded, waiting for it.

"Do you plan on taking me back to my house or am I staying here again?" Charles asked, slightly nervous. He was hoping it was the latter, he'd been thinking about it all day. Not once had Erik mentioned anything about where he was going to stay.

"That's not even a question. You'll be lucky if I let you go back at all."

"Going to lock me up, are you?"

"Maybe."

Charles just grinned in response.

"Have any more questions, darling?"

Charles hummed, thinking it over. He had one more he wants to ask but he wasn't sure how, "It's not really a question, but I have one more. You're going to put me to sleep soon," as if to prove his point, Charles shut his eyes once more.

"Fire away, my darling."

"Last night, on the phone, you called me baby," a faint blush covered Charles' face.

Erik hummed, "I did. Did you mind?"

"Oh, god no." Charles breathed out, his blush spreading to his neck.

Erik chuckled slightly as he leaned down and whispered, "Do you blush below the collar, baby?"

Charles went even redder, turning his body and hiding his face against Erik's leg, mumbling a response Erik couldn't quite catch.


They were in bed now, Erik with his back against the headboard and Charles next to him, his head resting on Erik's chest. They sat like that for a while, not talking about anything in particular; books, movies, Erik's work, Charles' school life. It was nice, just being with each other.

"Charles?"

"Mmhm?"

"Do you mind?"

"Mind what?"

"The age difference," Erik clarified, "I'm twelve years your senior. I mean, it doesn't bother me but I thought maybe it might bother you."

"No," Charles replied, honestly. It had at first, a little bit, but the more he got to now Erik the less it mattered to him.

"Really?"

Charles turned his head up to tell Erik that yes, really, he didn't care at all, but shut his mouth when he saw Erik.

His breath hitched; the man looked beautiful, looking at Charles with big, open eyes. Their faces were so close Charles could see every detail, the light stubble on Erik's jaw, the small creases around his eyes and mouth. He noticed Erik's eyes were a dark grey, his pupils dilated. He looked down to the man's lips; his breath speeding up when Erik parted them slightly and ran his tongue along his bottom lip. Charles wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss Erik.

Without thinking about it, Charles leant forward and closed the gap; he'd held himself back too much that day, his self-control was worn out. Erik met him half way, his hand coming up to tangle in Charles' hair. Erik pulled their bodies closer, licking his way into Charles' mouth. Charles whimpered, moving his tongue against Erik's and gripping the man's biceps.

Erik grins against Charles' mouth and pulls back, kissing his way up to Charles ear and whispering, "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that, darling."

Charles leans into Erik's touch, moaning quietly, "Believe me, I do."

Erik kisses Charles gently below the ear, "Every time I say you, Charles," he punctuates each word with a kiss against Charles' jaw, "I swear I thought I was going to jump over the counter and jump you. Everyone else be dammed."

Charles pulls back and looks at Erik, "You should have," he says, leaning forward and kissing Erik again.

Erik tightens his hand in Charles hand and brings the other up to cup his jaw, relishing the feeling of finally being able to kiss Charles. He bites the boy's lower lip gently, smiling when he hears Charles whimper again.

"You're rather verbal, aren't you, baby?" he whispers it against Charles' mouth and opens his eyes, feeling rather smug when he sees Charles blush. "Don't worry, darling, it's a good thing," He kisses him again, pushing Charles on his back and leaning over him, one hand on his neck and the other his waist.

Charles arches up slightly when Erik's tongue runs over the roof of his mouth, one of his hands moving to tangle in Erik's hair. Part of him thinks he's dreaming, he's wanted it for so long he can't quite believe it's happening. But then, Erik pulls back and looks at him, smiling as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip,

"As much as I regret to do it, darling," Erik starts, "I think we should stop."

"We only just started," Charles pouts, "I don't want to stop."

Erik can't help but kiss Charles again, shot and sweet, laughing softly when Charles lifts his head up, trying to follow his mouth.

"You need to be up early, darling," Erik grins, still above Charles, "But don't worry, we'll have enough time to do everything you want to."

"I don't think I'd be able to fall asleep now."

Erik moved so he was next to Charles again, pulling the boy against his side and moving a hand to run through his hair, smirking as he felt the boy relax almost instantly, "Something tells me you can."

"Fuck you," Charles mumbles and pulls the blankets up to his shoulder, snuggling into Erik's side.

He's nearly asleep when he hears Erik whisper "That's going a bit fast, darling. All I was hoping for was to see if the other parts of your body are as beautiful as your face is when you blush," Erik kissed Charles on his forehead, smirking when he felt the boy's skin heat up.