A/N: Kink_meme prompt.

/goes to showers for days

Erik is waiting. He sits patiently on the bed with his hands clasped together, resting between his thighs.

Charles stands awkwardly in the bathroom doorway, anxious hands gripping the hem of a green dress that comes up to mid-thigh. He was barely able to get the dress on, not because the clasps were particularly difficult, but because his hands were shaking with raw desire to fulfil this fantasy for Erik- a fantasy he didn't know he shared until he stumbled upon it during an intense bout of telepathic sex over the breakfast table with the children.

Green dress. Erik's smirk. Come splattered over the satin trim and Charles' face.

Charles had flushed so hard that Raven stopped eating for two seconds to tell them to stop mindfucking each other.

Now, standing there with his legs crossing and uncrossing under Erik's intense gaze, Charles feels the blush return, blooming in his cheeks and spreading down his jaw.

Erik's eyes rake down his body, lingering on slender hips curving into the waistline of the puffy dress, flickering down long legs bare for the first time since summer. Charles bites his lip under inspection, and can feel the whisper of Erik's touch on the metal buttons along the front, teasing, vibrating just enough to have him breathing hard.

"I feel ridiculous," Charles complains, though what he is mostly feeling is an intoxicating mixture of embarrassment and arousal pulsing through his body. He feels the latter sentiment coming off of Erik in staggering waves, the usual soft push of his mind now a torrent of hot desire. Charles can feel it on his skin like rain and it sets his nerves on fire. He swallows thickly and lets out a nervous laugh.

"No heels, Charles?" Erik speaks finally, standing up from the bed and stalking towards him.

Charles flushes deeper, as if he wasn't flustered enough already. "I'm afraid not." He takes a step back until his leg bumps into the door. Erik presses against Charles, running a finger down the side of his neck and down his chest, deft fingers finding and flicking at his nipples. Charles whimpers as they harden, stark against the thin fabric of his dress. His cock aches in anticipation under the layers of frill and lace.

"Turn around," Erik commands, pitched low, his nose brushing against Charles' ear so that his breath is hot on Charles' skin. The vibration from Erik's voice and the shiver that runs down Charles' back meet at his chest, pooling into molten heat between his legs.

"Demanding, aren't you?" Charles manages to say, the tremble in his voice already giving away how badly he wants this.

Erik doesn't answer, just turns Charles so that he faces the door. He pushes a leg between Charles', forcing them apart. Charles gasps at the synchronized movement, stumbling a little to keep upright and suddenly Erik's hands are under his dress, harsh and insistent, trailing up his legs, grabbing his arse through lace panties. Charles is already shamefully hard and not an item of clothes has been shed yet.

"Erik-" he pants, pushing back on him though he can barely feel the hard outline of Erik's cock between all the cloth between them. He can only feel Erik's hands, grabbing and kneading. "Erik, take off-"

"Be quiet, Charles," Erik tells him, squeezing Charles' arse with a rough hand.

Charles moans despite himself. You're never quiet, he thinks at Erik crossly.

Erik gives him mental equivalent of a grin. That filthy mouth of yours can be put to better uses.

He presses his fingers to Charles' mouth in demonstration, pushing them against his lips till they part, thrusting into his mouth once they do. Charles groans in his throat and laves at them obediently, sucking obscenely on the tips, biting lightly on the nails before they're pulled out carelessly, slicking the corner of his mouth with saliva. Erik wipes his hand on the skirt before hiking it up so that he can get a better view. The air is cool against Charles' bare thighs and he lets out a cry of surprise when Erik's hand slaps him across his arse. It stings and he can feel it in his cock.

"You're perfect like this," Erik breathes, and he cups Charles' arse, pulling on his panties so that they catch between his cheeks, disappearing between them. He tugs on one side, then the other playfully, jerking them up up up until Charles lets out a whimper.

"Erik, please-"

Erik pauses for just a moment as if in consideration before pressing Charles harder against the door with his other hand so that Charles' face is flush against the polished wood.

"Shall I fuck you with these on?" Erik asks, slipping a finger under the fabric to tease at Charles' entrance, probing, testing, breaching with the blunt head of his thumb. "Or do you want me to take these off and bend you over the table like a whore?"

Charles moans his answer, reaching behind him for Erik, wanting Erik to fuck him here, now.

"Take them off," Erik orders, backing off of Charles. He walks over to the chair by the desk casually and sits down to enjoy the show. Charles turns around, eyes trained on Erik, fingers already fumbling for the buttons of his dress in a haze of want, need you now.

"No, dress stays on," Erik says quickly and Charles stills. "And come here."

Charles walks over to him in a rush, grateful he decided to forgo the heels after all. Erik licks his lips, one hand on Charles' hip and another palming his own cock through his trousers. Charles' thumbs find the elastic band of his panties, pulling them off slowly to tease Erik only a fraction of the amount Erik has teased him thus far. It's not even close. They barely drop to his knees before Erik pulls him down into his lap and crushes their mouths together.

Charles moans in surprise and arousal, feeling Erik's cock hard and hot under his hand, sitting on Erik's thighs like a naughty child being scolded. His dress rides up as he settles into the kiss, trying to angle his head to deepen it while his feet dangle hopelessly off the ground. He parts his lips so that he can draw Erik's tongue into his mouth, hot and sweltering against his own. He grips Erik's cock and Erik groans, grazing Charles' lips with his teeth, taking the bottom one with him when he pulls back.

"Get up." Erik nudges Charles to stand before pressing him into the desk, pushing him up so that he sits on the edge of it. Charles' watches with a swollen mouth and heaving chest as Erik systematically take off his pants and shirt.

"Spread your legs, Charles," Erik says coolly, folding his clothes neatly on the bed.

Charles does, swallowing hard. The ruffles of his dress gather between his legs, the material scratchy against his skin and the surface of the desk hard on the back of his thighs. Charles' eyes trace over the taut line of Erik's body and the flat of his chest and stomach, feeling the heat coil in his own stomach.

"Wider, Professor," Erik says, before he's even looked up. "If you want my cock up your tight little ass."

Charles' moans loudly and he moves his legs further apart. Though he is clothed and Erik naked now, Charles still feels utterly exposed and resists the absurd urge to close his legs again. Erik comes back to him, kissing him fiercely, a hand under his jaw to keep him there. His other hand rests on Charles' thigh, heavy. Charles gives in, melting into Erik's mouth, melting into Erik's touch. He reaches out to touch Erik too and his hand is swatted away. "Hands on the desk," Erik tells him between the press of lips.

Charles complies, his fingers curling over the edge of the table like his straining knees. Erik's mouth moves to his neck now, hot breath and tongue and teeth and Charles throws his head back under the assault. Erik's hands are on his thighs all the while, like brands on his skin, burning impossibly hot desire into him the longer they remain still, just below the hemline. Charles squirms uncomfortably, willing the dress to come up higher so that Erik can touch him where he wants it, needs it. Erik doesn't seem to notice, fingering the edge of the fabric slowly between his thumb and forefinger as he continues to work his mouth along Charles' jaw, biting little kisses along the way. The fabric rustles in the silence and Charles shivers. Erik's mouth is tortuously slow and Charles moans in frustration, gasping when Erik's fingers (finally finally) dip for brief moments just under the hem to stroke the inside of his thigh but never any higher. Charles holds his breath each time, his cock twitching with every brush of Erik's fingers between his legs with Erik's tongue hot and humid on his neck. It's dizzying, so much so that when Erik squeezes Charles' thigh tight, Charles goes lightheaded, grasping the desk hard to keep himself grounded.

"Erik," he pants, unable to catch his breath with Erik's mouth slick on his Adam's apple, unable to keep silent though he knows he should. Erik Erik Erik Erik please, Erik.

Erik's hand does travel higher, lewdly rucking the skirt up until his fingers close around Charles' cock. Charles cries out his name in stuttering relief.

"You're not very good at following instructions," Erik muses, wiping pre-come off the tip of of it, dipping his finger into the slit before letting go. "Open your fucking mouth, Charles."

Charles does and Erik thrusts his fingers inside again, bitter and salty. Erik fucks his mouth leisurely this time, feeling out the corners of Charles' mouth and brushing against the back of his throat. Charles swallows around them, licking in between them. He tries to get them wet enough. The fingers press farther back and Charles gags on them until he chokes, pulling his head back to try to cough and breathe at the same time.

You love this, Erik thinks at him.

Yes, Charles agrees blushing heavily despite everything. Fuck me, Erik. I want you.

Erik kisses him then, soft and slow, reaching a hand between Charles' legs to press a slicked finger into him. It slides in easily and Charles moans softly, needing more. He shifts his hips to take Erik to the knuckle and Erik puts a hand on his knee to stop him from moving further. Erik presses another finger in and Charles' eyes shut with a hiss as it stretches him wide.

You're so tight, Charles.

Erik twists and scissors recklessly inside him, thrusting so hard that the desk shakes, the pens in the drawers rolling around on the inside. Charles bites his lips from sobbing aloud, from breaking out in a litany of Erik, God, yes, Erik please. But it doesn't stop his thoughts from flowing out and Erik's final thrust brushes purposefully against his prostate in answer, unleashing a cry of ecstasy from Charles' lips and a fresh sheen of sweat over his shaking chest.

"Do you want my cock in your ass or your mouth?" Erik asks him, breathing heavily. His voice is husky and his eyes dark. "Or your ass and then your mouth?"

You said I couldn't talk. Charles is so painfully aroused he doesn't think he could speak even if he was given permission.

Good boy.

Erik aligns himself in front of the desk, between Charles thighs, spitting into his palm before coating his cock. He looks up at Charles, tugging him slowly forward by the skirt until Charles sinks onto the tip of his cock with the help of gravity. Erik makes a small noise in his throat when he enters and Charles nearly comes with just the sound alone.

Erik hisses as he inches further into Charles and Charles' moans helplessly, arms coming up to wrap around Erik's neck to brace himself. Erik pulls the hem of the dress harder, forcing Charles to take him at his pace, thrusting shallowly until he is buried to the hilt.

It hurts, just enough, but the burn is sinfully good. Charles can feel himself stretching tight around Erik, molding around Erik's cock; Charles reaches for his own to stroke himself through it.

They kiss messily with Charles grinding down on Erik desperately and moaning into Erik's mouth by turns. Erik lifts Charles off the desk completely and Charles wraps his legs around his waist to get more of him, closer, now now now. Erik thrusts into him, his hands hot on Charles' waist even through the material of the dress, now sticky with sweat and pre-come and saliva. They leave dark stains in the fabric. Erik grunts with the weight of holding them both upright but louder with the feeling of Charles clenching tight around him each time Erik's cock drags along the right spot. They're pressed close, breaths mingling, forehead to forehead, chest to chest. Erik's hips snap up into Charles with each thrust, hitting the same spot again and again and again until Charles feels himself swell with pleasure so strong he comes violently in his hand.

Erik holds him until he stops shaking, lips pressed to a sweaty temple. Then pulls out and lowers Charles to the ground.

Erik's mental voice comes breathy and needy, Want to come all over your pretty dress and your pretty face.

Charles sits up on his knees and pushes sweaty bangs out of his face. It takes Erik only a few more strokes before he's coming over Charles' lips, nose, and cheeks. The semen drips down his neck to soak into the dress, already past ruined.

Charles' tongue laps at his lips, eyes still closed. Erik kneels beside him, wiping the come off gently with his folded shirt. When Charles opens his eyes again, Erik is smiling at him softly. Charles smiles back.

"Where did you get that dress, anyway?" Erik asks, voice full of affection. He grazes Charles' cheek with the back of his knuckles.

Charles grins at him. "Raven's closet."

Neither of them can keep a straight face at dinner.

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