Chapter 3: You've got a little... there, on your chin.

After stumbling through the streets of Manhattan high as kites and dissimulating erections miraculously without getting hit by a cab, Erik and Charles finally managed to reach the flat. It's when they got confronted by the lock that things became a bit difficult. Eventually, Erik realised he might need keys to enter said flat and started rummaging through his bag.

"Erik, be careful, Erik. Your glasses will fall out of your bag, Erik. See, I told you, Erik. They fell out of your bag, Erik, the glasses." Then Charles bent down to pick up the glasses and ended up sitting on the floor.

"Stupid key, why won't you turn? Ah, it's because you are not a key. You are a pin... thing."

"Pin-thing, pin-thing, pin-thing―"

"Aha! There you are."

"―Phing-pin, thin-ping... I can't do it anymore Erik, my tongue is dead."

"Your tongue is not dead... Is it? Let me check."

"Am I going to die? Erik, my tongue is dead, Erik. I can't kiss you anymore!"

"It's not dead because you can talk."

"...I'm bright, I should've known that."

"Look, Charles, the key is buggering the lock, heheee!"

"Hahahaaa!"

"Ok, seriousss. Door, open."

"Hey, Erik, your door is opened, Erik."

"Yes it is, indeed."

Charles just sat there looking at the doorframe while Erik did the same, only he was standing.

"Aren't we supposed to go in?"

Erik looked at his crotch.

"I've still got a hard-on."

"Yesss, that was the point of the exercise."

"What exercise?"

"Get to your flat, do naughty things..?"

"Charles. You have to get up now, Charles."

"Erikerikerikeriiik, I like saying your name. Eee-rrrikkk." Charles got up, walked into the flat and closed the door.

"Lock the door, we don't want robbers to come and rob our food or something."

"Yes, protect the food."

"God, I'm hungry."

"Food, later. Shag, now."

Charles walked up to Erik and assaulted his lips. It took a second for Erik to fully comprehend what was happening and respond fervently. Once again, before he could fully process it, the hot tongue slip sliding against his own was gone.

"Charles? Charles, you disappeared." Erik was looking around him with no Charles in sight.

"Down here."

Erik bent his head just in time to see Charles engulf his cock into the mouth he'd been kissing seconds ago. In time with Charles' motion, Erik threw his head back with a choked out moan.

"Fuckfuckittyfuckingfuck―"

Charles licked a long stripe from base to tip. He worked at it like it was candy.

"Charles, Charles. Fuck. Aah― your tongue is not dead, Charles. It's very much alive, fuck."

Erik's hand reached down to grip Charles' hair.

"Charles, bleeding Christ, I've got― I've got condoms in the― aah... Stop, stop, Charles, you're too good at this I'll embarrass myself."

Charles let go of Erik's cock at once. He looked up at the other man, hair dishevelled, lips red and glistening with spit, eyes wide and a flush creeping on his cheeks.

"The bag, condoms and lube, in the bag. Also, covers, sheets, your sheets, ah, the one you're supposed to sleep in tonight. They're on the sofa, put them on the floor, it's cold." Erik motioned with his hand vaguely.

Charles grinned and retrieved the elements he was told to retrieve. Erik turned to take off his shoes, hoodie and shirt. That's when Charles saw it.

"Erik, there's a bird on your back, Erik. It's beautiful."

"What?"

"Don't move! It'll fly away!"

"It's a tattoo Charles."

"Oh... I want to touch it."

Erik stared at Charles. The sight was delightful. Charles had spread the sheets on the living room floor like he had told him to and was now resting; legs parted, hands supporting him, pupils blown.

Erik took a step forward and dropped to Charles. He kissed him furiously before rising his shirt up and kissing his chest.

"Fuck, Charles. Your skin is so smooth I could paint on it."

Erik reached the hem of Charles' jeans and unbuttoned them. He gripped the pants' legs and swiftly slipped them off Charles, leaving the socks on. Charles giggled and pushed at his underwear. Erik then, catching on, slipped Charles' underwear along the same path his jeans had previously followed. Erik bent down for a lazy open mouthed kiss while he gently pushed Charles' legs apart. Erik reached for the condoms and the little bottle of lube on his side. He opened a packet, carefully slipped the condom onto his dick and spread a generous amount of lube into his left palm, all the while kissing Charles in that same debauched fashion.

He coated a finger, two, then slipped them along the cleft of Charles' arse. Charles gasped as the cold long finger came in contact with his sensitive skin. Erik pushed a finger against Charles' puckered hole and heaved a sigh as the smaller man moaned in his mouth. He pushed his finger once more, breaching the tight ring of muscle, and Charles grabbed his head.

Thrusting his finger inside Charles a few times, he added one, then another. Erik bent his fingers, looking for that special spot, when Charles twitched and his back arched under him as he started whimpering out a string of 'fuckfuckfuck'. It was Charles who grabbed Erik's slick palm and stroke Erik's shaft with it. When he judged it was slick enough, Charles took Erik and placed him at his entrance.

Erik began pushing up as Charles was pushing down. He got in almost all the way, thrusting slowly.

"Ohh fuck! Erik, Erik, fuck, Erik. Fuck I've never felt something that huge― aah!"

Charles bit into his lower lip roughly, eyes closed in pleasure.

Erik could not answer anything back as he was enthralled by Charles writhing. All he could utter were low moans and heavy breaths as tight heat circled his member.

Feeling Erik wasn't pushing in fast enough, Charles grabbed his arse and shoved himself onto Erik up until the hilt.

"Shit! Charles, fuck!"

Erik got the hint and proceeded to thrust in faster and faster until Charles reached for him and flipped them. Charles ran a hand through his locks and started riding Erik languidly, eyes closed, lips parted. Erik, taken by the sudden overflow of the image before him, gripped Charles' thighs, sure to leave bruises. As he lowered himself onto the other man, Charles let out gasps and moans suggesting he'd found a pleasurable angle. His left hand slithered over his stomach while the other one was supporting him on Erik's legs. Feeling his release near, Erik shot up and circled his arms around Charles' lithe body.

Erik pushed Charles back down onto his back, grabbed his left leg and put it over his shoulder. He thrust in hard and fast, kissing the inside of Charles' leg and gripping his waist.

"Erik, Erik, I'm com― ah, Erik..." Charles reached down to his cock and pumped.

A few thrusts later, Charles was coming between them, clasping tight around Erik. Erik came but a few seconds later with a choked moan and a low growl.

Still basking in the afterglow, Charles took off the t-shirt that had been riding up to his shoulders, wiped himself and tossed it at Erik so he could do the same.

Charles and Erik were lying on their stomachs next to one another, satiated from their languorous round of shagging. Charles couldn't help but stroke his finger along the delicate line of the phoenix tattooed on the other man's back. It was beautiful, graceful, detailed.

"I designed it myself, I got it tattooed by a friend." Erik put an arm over his head and turned to Charles, a smirk tugging at the left corner of his lips.

"It's beautiful. It dances when you shrug your shoulders."

"You don't have any ink?"

"Never got the chance although I would like a small one, maybe. One day."

Erik just looked into Charles' eyes and smirked up.

"I have an idea."

Erik rose from the floor, naked as the day he was born, and went to the sound system to put some music on. A few seconds later, Jimi Hendrix's interpretation of All Along The Watchtower wafted through the room. Erik started swaying to the music's enthralling guitars. Charles remained transfixed on the smooth way Erik's body was moving, and also the phoenix on his back that seemed to be shaking its wings.

"There must be some kind of way out of here! Said the joker to the thief." Erik sang along to the song while picking up a brush and two pots of acrylic paint.

"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief!" Erik settled the pots on the coffee table and straddled Charles hips.

"Business men they drink my wine! Plow men dig my earth." Erik lowered his face onto Charles' neck and sang into it.

"None will level on the line, nobody offered his word, hey!"

Charles was laughing freely now, giggling even. Erik smiled back lazily at him.

"This here is my favourite part." Then Erik closed his eyes, smiled and bent to the music.

He picked his brush from behind his ear and dipped it in the blue paint. He trailed the brush over Charles' stomach, he shivered in response.

"That tickles."

"Mmhm."

They stain the sheets they sprawled on the floor, dipping their hands in paint and stroking each other with it. In the end, Charles is a masterpiece and Erik is just full of paint everywhere.

"Uh-oh. Acrylic can't get out of cloth." Charles looked like a child who had broken a vase.

"I don't care, it'll be a reminder of today."

Erik chuckled and Charles responded with a fond smile.

"Hey, I've got my guitar somewhere, I could play some Johnny Cash later if you wan―"

"You play guitar?"

"Yes..?"

"That is so hot. God, what don't you do?"

Erik blushed, and looked at Charles longingly.

"Do you want to date?"

"Erik, you're still high."

"No, I mean, even sober I want to date you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes, and, you know, It's convenient. I like you, you like me, it's a party. And you live here now too. It's perfect."

"It is perfect. And considering we just shagged, I'd say that's a pretty good agreement."

"So, we're dating?"

"We're dating."

"No changing your mind when the Afghan wears off?"

"Not if you don't."

"I'd never."

"Good, then. It's settled." Charles smiled and kissed Erik lightly on the lips. "Did you ever notice that when you say 'rocks', the s lingers?"

"Really? I never really noticed, no." Erik had a befuddled expression on his handsome face.

"You repeat words."

"You repeat words too."

"It's because I'm blasted with multiple substances including weed and endorphins." Charles rubbed his face.

"What about me?" Erik pouted.

"You're blasted with multiple substances including weed and endorphins too."

"See, you repeat your words." Erik smiled triumphantly.

"I'm hungry."