A/N-I suck at summaries I know, you don't have to mention that separately... -_- Also, this is a fill for this prompt at the kink meme: . ?thread=21421797#t21421797
...I just wrote this PWP on the last day of summer vacations *cries*, so you cant blame me for any mistakes... =P
Title from Enrique Iglesias' "Naked".

The wind was singing, calling out to her lover. She shook the leaves and the abandoned pieces of newspapers, hoping that somehow, he would just see. And then, the thunder just answered back, lighting up the entire neighborhood, looking for her. It shook the water in the marble bird baths, and rattled windowpanes, catching Charles' attention as the glass reverberated back their song.

It was almost eleven at night, but the recurrent lightning that flashed up the area every few minutes wanted to prove otherwise. It was going to be a big storm, he realized. He would love to sit by his window and watch the storm, sipping tea and re-reading one of his favorite titles. But tonight he had different plans in mind.

He felt his heartbeats as he took off his clothes, slowly, taking all his time, because he knew, tonight, no one would disturb him. Why would someone, at this late hour, in this storm?

The cool air of his bedroom kissed his skin, and Charles felt his skin heat up, just thinking about what he was about to do. He had been with a few men before. But let's just say, his schedule and dedication to his work never allowed long-lasting lovers. He felt so left out, so needy.

It was a birthday gift from his best friend and half-sister, Raven. She obviously sent it as a joke, attaching a note which said 'you need to loosen up, dear brother. XOXO ;)' But maybe she was right. Charles took it out from one of the drawers beside the bed, along with a bottle of lube.

He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes. Then he touched himself, gingerly, one hand moving down his chest and the other, stroking his cock. He rubbed himself a few times, and reached for the lube, putting a satisfying amount on his fingers. It was cold against his heated skin, he noticed as he hissed, skin flushing all over. He pulled his palm down the length, and then back up, rubbing his thumb over the slit, moaning a little at the sensation.

It was a good feeling, but he knew it would even feel better if he were thinking about someone. Someone else, touching him, doing insane things to him. He could think about those chiseled men from the movies, or even commercials. He could think about anyone from those videos he watched online. But somehow, at the moment, his mind settled on the tall, handsome man who was surely craved out of marble. Oh, and who lived right next to him. Erik Lehnsherr. Charles didn't know much about him. He was German, an engineer, and the right amount of anti-social to make him a poster boy for 'the good neighbor'. Hell, Charles wouldn't even have known that much about him if it hadn't been for Azazel, Erik's over-friendly flat-mate. Azazel was trying to get in Charles' pants, no wait- Azazel was trying to get in everyone's pants. And the one thing he loved more than flirting, was talking. He could talk about anything, even his 'boring, grandpa-slash-flat mate' who didn't know how to smile. At first Charles had doubted that, but now he was thinking maybe Azazel was right. Charles had smiled at Erik at few times, waving and doing other usual friendly gestures. (Like stare from his kitchen window, if you're considering that.) But all Erik did was nod back. Or ignore Charles.

But it was the whole hard-to-get aura that surrounded Erik, which made him more surreal. Physically, Charles knew Erik was a Greek God, (he had seen his neighbor shirtless a few times. More than a few times really.) And his whole silent and secretive attitude really made him enticing and enigmatic.

Charles wondered how good Erik's long fingers would feel wrapped around him, inside him. Charles wondered what in language would Erik scream when he came, English, or German? How would it feel to kiss him? Would Erik use more of his tongue, or teeth? Charles slipped a finger inside himself, biting his lips to muffle his moan. He relaxed back into the pillows, spreading his legs further. Moving both of his hands with the same rhythm, Charles pressed a second finger inside. He pushed back onto his own hand, trying to get it as deep as he could. He licked his lips, pulling out his fingers with a sigh. Unpacking his sister's gift, he took out the vibrator from its box. It was almost two inches big, a steely-grey, wireless egg-vibrator, with a silky cord. Swallowing, Charles slicked it, lying down even further.

It was cold and hard against his skin, just like Erik's attitude. Charles pushed it inside, forcing himself to relax even though he felt the blush physically heat his face. He opened his eyes again when it was pushed in to the hilt, and he noticed how hard he was breathing. He fumbled with the controller, a small remote, almost similar to his stereo's, little buttons talking about different modes and speeds. His right hand moved gently up his thigh, moving between his legs and gripped himself, a bit tighter than last time. He moved along the length a few more times, deciding between which modes to chose, when the doorbell snapped him out of his dream-like state.

The rain had started pouring down in sheets, and barring the occasional thunder rattling the window panes, Charles was hearing only his own breaths and moans. His head jerked to the direction of the front door, ears straining to listen. Had he imagined the bell? His heart was beating hard, he could hear it ringing in his ears, and he wasn't sure.

There! Then the bell rang again, and Charles sat up quickly, wincing a little. Oh God! Who was it? Who could be visiting him now? Was Charles supposed to ignore the call, or take it? The doorbell rang again, answering his thought, and Charles got up from the bed in panic. He dressed up in his discarded clothes as quickly as he could, ignoring his libido that had started to soften at the interruption, wiping off his hands on his bed sheets. It was when he bent down to shove away his underwear and socks when he realized that he had forgotten the vibrator inside. Oh. He picked up the remote, unsure what to do next.

Was he supposed to remove it now? But that would mean he'd have to undress his jeans again, and pull it out, slowly, and the doorbell called out to him again, so Charles decided to forget about it. He'd attend the affair as quickly as he could, and then…get back on? Uh, that, he would decided after attending the late-night visitor.

Charles had almost reached for the door when he realized that he was still carrying the controller, and he quickly placed it in the nearest safe place he could find; the coffee table, between other remotes, one for the air-conditioner, the TV, and the stereo. He settled his hair again, and praying that he looked presentable, he opened the door.

"Mr. Xavier," Erik said, a hint of a smile touching the corner of his lips. He stood there in the dim lights of his porch, clutching an umbrella tightly as the wind threatened to steal it away. All hard lines, set in stone, and his eyes, glowing. "Apologies for disturbing you."

"Um?" was all Charles could offer.

"Well, uh," Erik tried his best to repress his discomfort, and Charles could practically see the effort it took him to try to be social. Erik mumbled something inaudible, and Charles had to lean closer to listen."I-?" Erik began, but the wind was howling and Charles doubted that he would be able to hear anything.

"Please," he stopped Erik, "come in." Charles held the door open as Erik closed his umbrella, and shaking it off, he stepped in.

His hair was all that was a bit wet, apart from a few splashes on his clothes, Charles noticed, as he took the umbrella from his neighbor. Then Erik sighed audibly, and cleared his throat. "I-seem to be facing a careless trouble, I think. Again I apologize to disturb you so late, I hope I didn't wake you?" Erik asked, and Charles found himself blushing again. Heh. Wake.

"No, not at all," he croaked. "So…what happened?"

"Azazel's out of town for a few days," Erik said in his deep and German accent, which was doing things to Charles now, because of their proximity. Among other things. "And he took the keys with him. Both the pairs." He rolled his eyes. "Also, I left my wallet in the office in a hurry to avoid the storm, and along with it, my cellphone. So, I'm basically moneyless, contact less and helpless." Erik shrugged again. "And since we've been the best neighbors for all these years, Mr. Xavier," he sighed, "I thought I could come to you. Az talks about you, many times. I don't really pay much attention to others, our meighbors, so…I didn't know whom else to turn to?"

Charles nodded. "Of course." They walked to the living room. "Please take a seat, I'll just grab my phone," Charles said. He was having a bubbly feeling in his stomach. Erik knew about him? He actually paid attention to him? Charles walked back (very consciously) to the bedroom, grabbed his phone and handed it to Erik. "And call me Charles, no need to be so formal." He tried to smile.

"Erik," his neighbor said, offering his hand. Charles took it in his, and wow, it was so warm, and firm, and his fingers were long, and they would be so perfect around his-

"Would you like some tea, or coffee?" Charles asked, trying to avoid sitting. Or thinking filthy thoughts.

"Oh, please, no. I couldn't trouble you further!" Erik said, typing Azazel's number.

"Please, I insist," Charles replied as politely as he could.

"Coffee, if you don't mind?" Erik asked, and Charles nodded again, forcing a smile. Charles turned, when Erik called back.

"Also, uh. I have this audio file with me. I need to confirm it's the correct one and inform my associate overseas that I received it. So, would you mind if I use your stereo?" Erik took out a CD from his jacket.

"Not at all. Make yourself at home, my friend," Charles said quickly, trying to get away from Erik and his German accent and his chiseled body (which Charles could make out because Erik's shirt was sticking to his body) and his smoldering eyes.

"I'm so grateful, I could sell my soul for you," Erik replied, sheepishly (?) And Charles laughed, loosening up the atmosphere.

Charles tried to distract himself with the beverages, and will his cock back to sleep. Maybe he could pull out the plug here, in the kitchen itself. But he could hear Erik's voice clearly, talking on the phone. He could walk in any second! No, Charles wouldn't take the risk.

But there he was, the man he was fantasizing about, sitting in his living room, so late at night, and Charles' mind was wandering off to wrong places, again and again.

"What? Two days? Are you out of your mind?" Erik's voice rose, but then he was back to murmuring again, and Charles decided not to overhear.

Soon Erik's voice died down. Charles guessed the call must be done.

"So?" he called out to Erik.

"Az said that he'll be back in two days...so I guess I need the locksmith," came Erik's reply.

"At this hour?"

"Hmmm, yes. I guess I'll sleep in my car?"

"Oh."

Charles was done with Erik's coffee, and had almost finished brewing his tea as well. Maybe he could ask Erik to stay for the night? But then, he felt it.

The vibrator was buzzing inside him, vibrating in a constant and rhythmic motion. Charles gripped the counter hard, trying to control himself.

Oh, this was good.

He bit his tongue and swallowed a few moans. Wait. What was happening?

He didn't remember how he did it, but Charles poured his tea in a cup, and somehow managed to get both the cups to the living room without spilling. The beverages. Or something else.

He saw Erik standing in front of the stereo, fumbling with the remote. Only- that wasn't the remote for the stereo. Before Charles could interrupt Erik, he saw him pressing another button, and he felt the pace of the vibrator increasing. It was faster, harder, and Charles clenched his fists, letting out a shuddering breath. He was standing there, eyes closed, frowning, when Erik turned to him, saying, "I'm sorry Charles, the remote isn't working. Are you sure this- Charles?"

Erik was right next to him in a second, towering over him, unsure what to do.

"Charles, are you okay?" Erik asked, hands ghosting over Charles' forearms.

Charles found his knees shaking, and he couldn't help himself. He collapsed forward into Erik's chest. Erik smelt good, and he was supporting Charles, totally concerned, and Charles didn't even realize that he was fisting into Erik's shirt.

"Charles! What-?" Erik supported more of Charles' weight, but he must still be carrying the remote in his palm, because then Charles found his elbow pushing into a button, and he heard a small beep.

The vibrator slowed down to a pulse rate.

"Charles?"

Erik's voice snapped Charles' attention out from his trance. He jerked back, away from Erik's grip.

"I'm sorry. I-uh," he said, voice breathy. "I'm fine." When Erik looked unconvinced, he added, "I promise, I am. Please take your seat."

Charles thought that maybe sitting down would be the best idea, for he feared that his legs would give out any second.

Erik gave a small nod, walking back to his own place on the other side of the coffee table. But all the time, his eyes kept hovering over Charles.

"What happened?" He asked, sipping some of his coffee.

"Oh, uh, nothing. I was just feeling a little whoozy. I feel okay now. I promise." Charles said again. "I was just a little hot, and uh. That's all," he said, wiping a sheet of sweat he felt on his forehead.

"Are you sure?"

"Uh-huh." Charles tried to focus on his tea, which lay abandoned on the coffee table, staring hard at it. He folded his hands onto his lap, as subtly as he could.

And then he heard the small beep again, and oh shit. The vibrator buzzed hard, pulsating right against his prostate, and dear God! This felt amazing!

It was moving in a pulse rate again, only faster, almost matching with Charles' heart, sending jolts of pleasure every beat, and Charles was panting. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Hnnng. Erik!" He moaned.

Erik turned back to him from where he was sitting, facing the stereo, but not before pressing another button, and the vibrator was humming in full speed, with all its strength.

"Its not-its not the remote for the stereo," Charles managed to get out, gritting his teeth and panting harshly now. A drop of sweat collected under his chin, slowly moving down his throat. He wiped it away with his sleeve, and then wiped his forehead again. "Its uh. Its –mnnnnh."

He gripped his thighs, fingernails digging in. It was of no use, his thighs were shivering so hard, out of control.

He couldn't form words now. Not when the vibrator was beating so hard inside him. Hell, even if he could, what exactly would he say to Erik? Dear Erik. That remote in your hand is not for the stereo. It's the fucking controller for the fucking vibrator. That's currently inside me. And when you think you're pressing buttons to the stereo, you're actually doing things to me. Insane things. Maybe you should stop before I go crazy.

On second thoughts. Don't stop.

And as if exactly on cue, the vibrator stopped. Charles whined, and then looked up to face a wide eyed Erik, lips fallen open slightly, and yes! His eyes were exactly the same steely grey. As the vibrator inside him.

"Uhm, Erik," he panted, pushing down his palms over his crotch. The pressure felt so good, Charles wanted to come. So bad.

"Oh. My bad," Erik said, voice rich with his accent again. When Charles looked up, he saw Erik looking down at him, sitting leg crossed over the other across the coffee table , eyes half-lidded, and that expression on his face.

Charles panted, open-mouthed. "Please."

"Oh? What was that?" Erik asked, and Oh God! He had the nerve to smirk.

"Erik," Charles said, because, what else could he say?

"Do I have the permission to continue?" Erik asked, still smirking. But he didn't wait for Charles to reply. He pressed the button and the vibrator was on again, shuddering so slowly, just one beat at a time. And it was still placed against his prostate, sending bright sparks of pleasure each time, and Charles shivered. It was too much to bear. His clothes were too tight, the room was too hot, and Erik… he was too far away.

"I cant," he whispered, eyes clenched shut. He couldn't decide, changing his positions, again and again. He curled into his body, pressing his palms down again. The he leaned back onto his chair, throwing his head back, because it just felt so good.

All of a sudden, his eyes focused on Erik, who was crouching over him on the spacey chair. Without any preludes, Erik grabbed a handful of his sweat-matted hair, the other curling into Charles' shirt, and kissed him hard.

Charles moaned into Erik's mouth, his hands fumbling and roaming all over the carved body, finally rising and framing Erik's face. Erik kissed like he was born to kiss, and yes, he used his tongue more. And oh. That tongue was sinful, so hot, and devouring, and somehow stroking in sync to the vibrator's beats, as if Erik knew. He knew everything.

Erik was biting down on Charles' lower lip, when Charles heard it again. The small beep. And then the vibrator was quivering in a different rhythm. Erik snaked his hand down, and pressed into the wet spot in front of Charles' jeans.

"Please?" Charles was begging again. For what, he didn't know, but he knew he wanted it. He wanted it so bad. His body arched up into Erik's touch, but Erik pushed him down. So he pulled at Erik's shirt, trying to tug it off without breaking the kiss.

Erik pulled back, and he whined. He heard Erik huff, and then Erik pulled him up, and crashed their lips together again. Charles conjured up all his strength, and maneuvered them towards his bedroom. Without breaking the kiss.

The vibrator pushed again, and Charles let out a deep moan, breathy and desperate, biting hard into Erik's lip.

Erik growled, and nearly ripped off all their clothes, throwing Charles down on the bed. The vibrator throbbed again, and Charles threw his head back, toes curling.

"You keep doing that," Charles said between moans and Erik bit down his throat and shoulders, "and I won't last long." He felt Erik smiling when he pulled him up by his hair to devour his face again. Then Erik thrust his hips, rubbing them together. Charles pushed up to relish the delicious friction again.

Erik stilled Charles with one hand over his hipbone, the other hooked into the cord, and started pulling out the toy, and Charles dug his nails into Erik's biceps. Erik pulled it out halfway, and then pushed it back in.

"Ohh," Charles moaned, body pushing up. "Please, Erik."

"Hmmm?" Erik asked, that smirk back again. He pulled it out again, and then pushed it back again, fucking Charles with the small toy.

"Need. I need," Charles panted. Then he looked up to Erik, blue eyes blown wide, lips all red and swollen, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, and the look of pure lust on his face. "I want you, in me."

Erik growled, a deep rumble from beneath his chest, and pulled out the plug, all at once. Charles let out a sound that was something between a whimper and a whine.

Erik must've seen the bottle of lube thrown carelessly on the bed, for he reached out for it. But Charles grabbed his hand mid-reach.

"Erik," he said impatiently, "I am ready enough. Just do it!"

"So demanding," Erik laughed. And really, Charles didn't understand what was so humorous. He took Erik's face in both his hands.

"Erik Lehnsherr. Fuck me. Now," he said. Then he added a small 'please' because yes. It was a bit too much, wasn't it?

But for Erik, that was all the instructions he needed. He positioned himself, gripping Charles by the hips, and shoved in, all at one go, taking out all of Charles' breath. He paused for a second, waiting for Charles to adjust, and Charles started wriggling, and Oh God!

"Move," Charles said, "please. Erik, please!"

Erik obeyed, chuckling again. He gave a few thrusts, moving according to his own likings. Then he reached down Charles' cock and stroked it a few times, and that was all Charles needed. He came with a shout, his vision going white, and clenching hard around Erik.

Soon, Erik's pace increased, and became irregular. Charles remained just conscious enough to understand the grunts and rambles, both in English and German, which showered from Erik's lips. And when he came, he simply said Charles' own name.

After a few moments of gratifying silence, Charles pulled out a cloth from the lowest drawers, and Erik helped clean them both.

"Stay the night," Charles whispered when they laid back into silence again. Oh no. Was this going to be awkward?

"Only if you promise you have more such surprises," Erik replied, and his voice was harsh and broken, and it still sent shivers down Charles' body.

Charles blushed into the pillow. Then he felt something moving beside his thigh. He reached down, and pulled up the vibrator, slick and wet, and still vibrating. How hadn't he noticed it before? He raised a questioning eyebrow to Erik.

"Well, I guess I left the remote in the living room?" Erik said, shrugging in the soft light. When Charles didn't reply, Erik gave a predatory grin. "You know, I am not the only one who left wrong things in wrong places?"

Charles wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

So he did that, reaching up and pressing his lips to Erik's.