Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

It was Raven's voice that tickled the back of his mind first - for as hard as she tried to convince everyone around her that she was an adult, thank you very much, she was as anxious as any child on Christmas morning, waking hours before the rest of the household. Her excitement was contagious, really; her demeanor so giddy and carefree that had he been given the chance, he would have done anything in his power to keep her like that forever.

Sean was next - unlike many of the other children, he had experienced a proper Christmastime, and he was more accustomed to the bravado that went along with the holiday. The boy who would have slept well past noon if left to his own devices woke promptly at six, as the sun was just clearing the dark line of trees surrounding the mansion, and was unable to calm his spinning mind long enough to allow himself to drift off again.

The others followed in very quick procession. After a boisterous wakeup call from Raven, Angel stirred third (Charles, being the sympathetic person he was, had found it simply heartbreaking that she'd never experienced the true joys of Christmas after she'd looked skeptically at the lot of them decorating the tree one evening); Hank's mind had blinked into hasty activity fourth, slightly sheepish and bursting with the fond memories of his much earlier years and of the memories created that same week, when Charles had launched the mansion into what Raven had so aptly deemed 'extreme holiday mode.' Darwin came next, and finally, Alex, grumpy and highly displeased at being woken at such an ungodly hour by Sean leaping onto his bed and jostling him until he shoved him back onto the floor.

By six-thirty, sleep was impossible. The children hadn't come so far as to knock on his bedroom door - though he had caught a half-formed idea from Raven that involved some sort of surprise attack and plenty of yelling and stealing of bedcovers - but he was sure that it was only a matter of time before one of them plucked up enough nerve to do so. Cracking one eye open, Charles was not at all surprised to find the room still shrouded in dim, early morning light, with only the beginning rays of sunlight creeping across the floor.

Nor was he surprised to see Erik still sleeping beside him, buried underneath the blankets with one arm tucked beneath the pillow, his face more content and relaxed than Charles had ever seen it during any waking hour.

Shifting closer to him underneath the blankets - it was, after all, the end of December, and despite his many attempts at keeping the mansion at a warm temperature, there would always be a draft and he was not ready to sacrifice his fingers and toes to a sudden brisk shift in temperature - Charles propped himself up on one elbow and leant over to press a soft kiss just behind Erik's ear, careful not to wake him.

Even though the kiss was light, that was all it took for Erik to stir. He shifted slightly, relishing in the warmth of Charles body so close to his own. With how low the temperatures tended to drop at night, extending into the early hours of the morning, this intimate contact was very much welcomed.

Erik slowly parted his eyelids, thankful that because it was so early in the morning he wasn't temporarily blinded by the streams of light that normally flooded in through the cracks in the curtains. It wasn't unusual that he was woken in this way (even though he knew it wasn't Charles intention to rouse him out of sleep), but there was something particularly merry about his companions behavior. He could practically feel Charles grinning behind him - only to find out he actually was when he flipped over to lay on his back. The telepath's smiles truly were contagious, for he felt the slightest inkling of a grin tugging at the corners of his own lips.

Sea-storm gray eyes met with blue; Erik raised a hand to Charles face, thumb slowly running back and forth over Charles cheekbone. "Morning." He said lowly as his smile widened ever so slightly.

There truly was something exciting about Christmas morning - though he had yet to roll out of bed, Charles was already anticipating what the day would bring. Christmas had always been one of his favorite holidays, even if it had been a relatively small affair during his childhood, with a mother who cared more for the bottle than gifts and a stepfather who was more of a Scrooge than the infamous literary character. Raven teased him for it from the moment he pulled the first dusty box of ornaments from one of the closets until the very last one was packed away at the new year, but he knew that she, too, enjoyed it, and he only hoped to share it with the rest of the children.

Erik, he knew, didn't celebrate Christmas. When Charles had first told him of his plans for the mansion one night over a game of chess, Erik had looked at him in that way he had, like he wasn't sure if Charles was twenty-eight or twelve. Which was why he was not the least bit surprised when Erik simply stirred and rolled over after a long moment, as if this were any other day and not one of the most celebrated of the year. But he was smiling, even if it only just beginning, and Charles felt his own smile widen in return.

He shifted closer again, now that he didn't have the risk of waking Erik, and leant forward to press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Good morning."

Erik leaned up into the kiss, as if unable to help himself. A low hum of satisfaction emitted from the back of his throat while his hand trailed to the nape of Charles neck, fingers teasing the soft, brown hair. Tiredness forced his eyes to remain half-lidded, but if they kept this up, he would be awake in no time.

A gentle sigh escaped him as he allowed his head to plop back down onto the pillow; his eyes wandered curiously over to the clock on the adjacent wall, fighting off a groan when he discovered it was just nearly six-thirty. Though, he expected it, for the sun still had some time before it rose.

Erik didn't quite know how this whole Christmas thing worked; he learned tidbits of information here and there from Charles, and these last few days, he was shown a lot. He watched Charles and a couple of the kids painstakingly decorate the tree (Angel even somewhat actively participated), stood on the balcony and observed as the band of mutants engaged in a snowball fight (he personally didn't see the fun in it, but they seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves), and was particularly amused when he saw Hank strategically hanging mistletoe in several doorways of the house (some of which Charles managed to catch Erik under - Erik wasn't going to protest to that custom).

"They already up?" Erik asked as his slender fingers continued to sift idly through the telepaths hair, assuming that the ruckus from the kids inside Charles head is what roused him so early.

He settled against Erik's chest once they parted; pressed comfortably against the other man's side, Charles could have easily fallen back asleep had it not been for the constant chatter inside his head. Under normal circumstances, it would have been easy to simply block it all out, push it to the back of his mind like he always did, but Raven was planning what could only be described as an absolute revolution within the walls of the mansion if Charles wasn't out of bed and downstairs within the next twenty minutes, and yes, she was fully aware that he could hear her, thank you very much. She was, if anything, even more incorrigible now than she had been during their childhood, but Charles was willing to excuse most of it as excitement over their new company.

He cracked one eye open and peered up at Erik, laughing against his chest. "Of course they're already awake." he said with another small smile. "Raven made sure of it. And I'm guessing, from the current state of things, that we have barely a quarter of an hour left before those doors are thrown open and we're dragged out of bed whether we like it or not."

Erik snorted disapprovingly at the image Charles planted in his head. Erik was not a morning person, so getting up at the crack of dawn was quite a feat. Truth be told, he would much rather stay in bed with Charles, limbs tangled and perhaps engage in a little early morning rendezvous (he might as well take advantage of Charles merry mood). Though, the mutants of the house had other plans for them.

"Then I guess we should get down there before they come up here." The thought of overly giddy teenagers bursting into their room and dragging them out of their bed was hardly appealing.

Charles had to laugh again - even without the aid of his telepathy, he could feel the displeasure rolling off of Erik at the thought of spending the morning in the company of children who were far too excited for such a silly occasion. There would surely be plenty of barely disguised glares thrown his way from across the room and a handful of snide remarks made over breakfast (when they eventually got to it, because presents would obviously come first and foremost, even in the minds of teenage boys).

"At least pretend to enjoy yourself." Charles said teasingly, pressing a kiss to Erik's throat. "For -"

"Charles!" It was Raven's voice on the other side of the door, and she knocked loud enough to wake even the dead. "Charles, you have exactly two minutes to get out here before I drag you downstairs myself!"

When Charles looked up at Erik again, his expression very obviously said that pretending was possibly (probably) asking far too much. Charles smiled sheepishly.

"I thought you said we had fifteen minutes."

"Charles!"

"I'm a telepath, my friend." Charles said, unwillingly rolling out of Erik's embrace and standing to retrieve his robe. "Not a psychic."

-End-