This is a fill for the 1st_class kink meme over at Livejournal.

Prompt: Drunk shenanigans. Charles gets drunk one night and stumbles his way into Erik's room. Erik wakes up with Charles' clothes draped all over him because Charles thought he looked cold.

Warnings: drunkenness, language

Scrubbing a warm washcloth roughly over his face, Erik wished he would diminish the buzz he felt from the pure excitement of the busy day of training, but he knew from experience that it was going to take awhile for his mind to calm down and match up to his body. The face that stared back at him in the mirror was slack-jawed, dull-eyed. Exhausted.

It's okay, he thought at his body. You don't need any more adrenaline. It's safe to sleep.

With a sigh, he hung the washcloth back on the small circular rung that dangled from on the side of the sink, feeling the metal sing under his fingertips as he did so. It annoyed him, that he was still so sensitive, but that's what this had been all about, hadn't it? Learning to use his powers better... so that he would kill Shaw, and make him feel it. Derail the smug son-of-a-bitch.

He took a sharp step backwards. The circular rung, the washcloth hooked over it, was standing upright-he'd inadvertently called it to himself. Control, he admonished himself, exiting the bathroom with a barely-stifled yawn. I need sleep, and desperately.

His head ached, filled with ringing, resonant tones of metal. He frowned, realizing that his tongue tasted like copper, as if he'd been sucking on a penny. Way weird.

He shed his robe from his shoulders on the way to the bed, letting it fall where it would and climbing single-mindedly into it. When his head hit the cool pillow, he closed his eyes and did not even recognize when the bliss of silence came to him suddenly.