and I fell in love. I re-wrote this story half a dozen times in an attempt to get it to make it as fun as the mix, and I hope I pulled it off.
Charles grabbed Logan by the burly arm and hauled him over to a glass case of waiting pastries, not caring at all that Xavier, with his perfectly coiffed hair and slightly oversized cardigan, and Wolverine, with his cigar and broad chest of plaid, looked positively ridiculous together. An absurdity only compounded by the fact they were touring a bakery. "Look at this, Logan! It's an earl grey cupcake with an ermine milk frosting, doesn't that sound lovely? Like breakfast in a pastry."
Logan squinted down at the cupcake and sniffed in displeasure, "What in the hell is an 'ermine milk'?"
Charles cocked his head to the side, "You know, I actually don't know. But it looks lovely."
Logan snorted which, when he wasn't deriding Charles' common sense, was really as communicative as Logan ever got. Sometimes Charles suspected that Emma had assigned Logan to be Charles' bodyguard out of the vain and desperate hope that he might accidentally teach Charles the benefits of stoicism. A ridiculous thought on Emma's part, but still, Charles rather enjoyed Logan's company so he wasn't complaining. Logan's impressive ability to heal meant that his body was almost constantly regenerating itself, preventing Charles from getting a clear read on the man's thoughts. Charles enjoyed the freedom that came from not having to police his gifts, and when he wasn't thinking rather pointedly that Charles was a gullible idiot, Logan was surprisingly fond of Charles in return.
"I must say," Charles wondered, "given Raven's predilection for things based in vegetables, I was surprised that she recommended a bakery at all, let alone one that seems to rely so heavily on white flour and processed sugar."
"She didn't send you here for the food, Charlie." Logan grunted.
Charles looked up from his favorite chocolate cake (a solid block of cake filled with caramel and sweetened condensed milk then topped with a thick whipping cream) and asked, "Why else would she be so determined that I should come here?"
Logan rolled his eyes (his go to expression when he didn't understand how a telepath could be quite so naive) and nodded at the narrow archway leading to the back room of the shop where the actual baking occurred.
Charles shuffled over to have a clearer view of the room in question, not blessed with Logan's height. If asked, Charles could've said that everything in that room was metal, from the ovens, to the unlabeled storage containers, to the long counters impeccably kept, free of stray spills or traces of flour. However, it was only a lifetime of pretending he was listening to what a person was saying rather than what they were thinking that would've let Charles disguise the fact he wasn't really paying attention to any of that, he was staring at the baker.
The man was, well, the first word that popped into Charles' head was 'delicious'. (A pun for which he blamed his natural preference for conceptual symmetry.)
The Baker was tall and broad shouldered, with a rather ragged pair of jeans clinging to the narrow lines of his hips and his strong thighs. The man was hand-whipping eggs on a strange rhythm, and Charles noticed the iPod tucked in the Baker's back pocket, a white cord running up under his tank top where it was safely out of the way. Charles determinedly didn't stare at the way the Baker's muscles flexed while he worked, or how a streak of flour had somehow found its way across the Baker's cheekbone, highlighting the sharp features and making him look almost feral despite the domestic setting. The Baker looked utterly at peace, measuring and stirring with a zen sort of focus while he bobbed along to the music only he could hear.
Logan smacked Charles on the back of the head, a sign that he had been staring too long. Charles blushed and twisted back to the utilitarian display case and found Logan already waiting at the counter with Charles' cupcake and a smirk. Charles cleared his throat and stuck out his chin like he wasn't mortified at all, and strode up to the counter. "Aren't you going to get something, Logan? I saw a beer and bacon cupcake over there."
The brown-haired girl behind the counter just grinned, "It's cool, Professor. Everyone has that reaction to Erik while he's baking."
"That is a small sort of comfort I suppose." Charles smiled, always pleased when someone called him Professor rather than whatever codename the PR department was spinning this week.
"I mean," the girl continued, "he's got that whole dark and broody thing going on, but he bakes. It's impossible to refuse." Charles could feel the girl's bald sincerity, so solely concerned with making Charles smile that he could ignore that she was talking about him like he was a teenager nursing a crush on the captain of the rugby team rather than the unofficial head of a country.
The girl all but shoved the cupcake and it's rather battered plate to Charles, "Here you go!"
Logan quirked his eyebrow in amusement and Charles assumed that Logan had asked for the cupcake to go since they were already running late and the girl had the counter was willfully ignoring that request.
Charles just smiled genially, "Thank you, my dear."
"Kitty," she grinned, "I'm Kitty. Well, Shadowcat, but… yeah, Kitty."
Charles kept his smile in place, "And I'm Charles. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"You too." Kitty's smile was blinding, and despite the scolding he would no doubt get from the other members of the Triumvirate for being late yet again, Charles took a seat at one of the small tables beside the window... then shifted to a different seat when Logan gave him the same bemused look he always did when Charles forgot that he was the leader of a country, not a professor, and somewhere out there were people who'd like him dead.
Charles sunk his fork straight through the plump frosting and to the moist cake, taking an obscenely large bite, only to moan when it hit his tongue. Kitty giggled at such a sound coming from the typically posh Professor, and Logan very pointedly thought that they needed to get Charles laid if that was the sort of reaction he had to cake.
Charles thought peevishly back to him about the blissed out expression that Logan had had just moments before when he'd spiked his black coffee with the flask he kept in his pocket, but Logan remained uncowed since he'd long ago lost his ability to be embarrassed while Charles still had his propriety fully intact.
They were both too consumed with their own guilty pleasures and mental snarking to notice the way Kitty ducked through the back door and lobbed something at the Baker's head, frantically waiving him out front when he glowered at her for interrupting his work.
Charles took another bite, humming in pleasure and slowly dragging his lips along the fork to seize every last morsel, when he was interrupted by a pulse of pure shock tinged with no small amount of lust. Charles looked to the door, and there was the Baker, staring at Charles with cheeks flushed and lips parted, and Charles couldn't quite help some lust of his own.
Charles swallowed his bite and licked his lips clean, buying himself time before saying, "Hello." The Baker just kept staring, so Charles stumbled to his feet and took the few steps to the counter, "Your food is delicious."
Not quite sure he wanted to know what would be in the psychic echoes that came from the skin to skin contact of shaking hands,Charles instead pressed his hand to his chest and said, "I'm Charles."
"I-I know who you are." The man replied, with no definitive emotion to the statement.
"Ah, yes… well," Charles stumbled out uncomfortably, only to be interrupted with, "I'm Erik."
Charles smiled brightly, "Hello, Erik. And the cupcake is truly delicious. Actually, everything here looks delicious."
Erik's slightly dumbfounded expression turned pleased, "I'm glad you think so." They both paused, that awkward moment when you're trying to come up with something new to say and Erik continued, "Especially since you've got the earl grey cupcake, usually people have objections to that."
"Good heavens, why?"
"It's tea." Erik shrugged.
"And what's wrong with tea?" Charles asked, affronted on behalf of the cupcake.
"It's generally not considered suitable cupcake material." Erik teased, relaxing the more he got Charles to talk.
"Then they're fools. What reason would you have for baking something if it's not suitable?"
Erik cocked his head to the side, mentally measuring something before he replied, "My mother."
Charles felt the shock from Kitty, like she'd seen Erik have this same conversation before and yet this was a wholly new response. Charles leaned up against the counter with a questioning look in his eyes and Erik continued, "My mother loves tea, but I can't brew her a cup to save my life. So, rather than continuing to destroy kettles, I started putting tea in other things for her."
"Would your mother happen to be British?" Charles grinned.
Erik smiled, "Nein. Meine Mutter ist Deutsch."
Charles pursed his lips, general cognates and enough time with foreign dignitaries letting him parse out that Erik's mother was German before he replied, (in truly horrible German), "Und, vows etes Deutsch?"
Erik furrowed his brow, obviously trying to translate before realization passed over his face and he started to laugh. (Charles felt the obvious shock from Kitty, but far more subtle, and curious, was the surprise from Logan. Charles filed that away to think on later.) Between laughs Erik stumbled out, "Most of that sentence was French, Charles."
Charles blushed crimson and groaned, "Well, that was… mortifying." Charles meant it. One never liked to humiliate themselves in front of a handsome man who sounded positively devilish in his own language; but the sound of Erik's laughter coupled with the genuine amusement rather than scorn that Charles could feel dripping off his mind was enough to dull the embarrassment.
"And on that horrible note, I really should be going. It was a pleasure to meet you Erik, despite the butchering of your native tongue." Charles stretched out his hand, ignoring the slight tremble to it, and ignoring the way Erik's shirt tugged tight across his chest while he wiped his hands along his torso to remove any flour before he took Charles' hand in reply.
"The pleasure was all mine, Charles. I assure you."
Emma stormed into the bakery and forcibly implanted in Kitty's mind the suggestion that Erik had sent her away for the night. The girl tossed on her jacket and called out, "Night Erik!" before she left, not seeing an enraged Emma Frost, Chief of Genosha's Security Force at all. Erik poked his head around the door and rolled his eyes, "You know Emma, I do actually need Kitty to get her work done."
"You employ Kitty because you hate talking to people." Emma paused, "Though I suppose after today that should be in the past tense."
Erik quirked an eyebrow being deliberately obtuse, "Are you firing Kitty?"
Emma hissed, "Charles was smiling, Erik"
"Oh, how terrible." Erik snarked, reading back into his kitchen.
"Don't you sass me, Erik Lehnsherr! He's the leader of the whole damn mutant world and you've been flirting!" Emma shouted, following him.
"Of course I've been flirting, have you seen him!"
"Of course I've seen him! Have you taken complete leave of your senses!"
"What's wrong with a little harmless flirting?"
"Harmless flirting! Charles Francis Xavier, head of the Genoshan government, face of the mutant movement, and quite probably the most powerful mutant in the world was smiling!"
Erik slammed some bread dough in a pan, "You shouting it over and over again isn't going to make me understand why Charles being in a good mood is a bad thing."
"Xavier is never in a bad mood, but when a stressed, overworked Charles Xavier is in an effortlessly good mood, not at all pained by the fact that we're making him lead a country rather than teach, then people notice!"
"So what if they notice he's happy?"
Emma transformed her hand into diamond and slammed it down on the table, forcing Erik's attention to her with a jarring clang. "You came to Genosha as a last line of defense against the assassins who are gunning for Xavier. You set up your little shop because you thought no one would suspect the stoic baker of being our own special breed of security. And now you're throwing the plan out the window and calling all the attention to you that you were supposed to avoid."
Erik turned back to his baking and asked, "Tell me, Emma. What about 'stoic baker hitting on the hero of the mutant' species screams 'secret security' to you?" Emma glowered in reply and Erik smirked, "Exactly."
Emma moved before Erik could react, wrapping her diamond hands around his throat and slamming Erik against the wall, "Erik, are you flirting with Charles as part of your assignment?" She hissed.
"You've done worse." Erik grated out.
"Not to Charles."
"Didn't you think he was just a pretty face?"
"That was until I had a conversation with him." Emma pressed harder against Erik, "Lehnsherr, are you seducing him as part of your assignment?"
"And if I am?"
Emma had taught Erik to shield his mind herself -- he was too dynamic, too important to the mutant cause to let him run around with his mind open to any passing telepath -- and being the one to teach Erik to construct those shields meant that Emma knew the back door. Other telepaths would try to force down Erik's walls (sheer stupidity when dealing with a man as stubborn as Erik), but Emma knew to wriggle through the cracks, the flaws in construction that always came with sheer, brute strength. Erik knew she was sneaking and tossed up mental shields and traps to throw her out of his mind, but moving like an arrow Emma found her way to the clear, glowing thoughts of Charles that were wrapped around Erik's core like a quilt, warming his soul with comfort where just this morning there was nothing but the steadily burning fire of rage.
Back in her physical body Emma felt the pressure of Erik's metal cracking into her diamond, more than able to permanently damage to her, and Emma retreated. She dropped Erik and pulled back in shock, "You're… how is that even… you. hate. everything."
Erik forced her back and shouted, "I don't know!"
Emma was still too shocked to process properly and just kept rambling, "You like him. Not even 'like' in the way you like Logan because he's ruthless and strong. You like Charles warm, and soft-"
"Yes, Emma! I've got it!" Erik snapped.
The reality of the moment crashed down on Emma and she started to giggle, "You're in love the Professor."
Erik just stared at her, not sure whether being outed so quickly after developing the feeling was more mortifying than the sound of Emma actually giggling like a woman. "It's really not that funny."
"You're Magneto!" Emma shouted with a laugh. "You're the secret leader of the mutant rebellion! Half of the world's governments think Genosha made you up to be our own version of Robin Hood! And you've fallen in love at first sight with the leader of Genosha." Emma's hands flew to her mouth as she gasped at whole.other thought, "I beg of you Erik, let be there when you tell the PR department, they'll expire from joy."
Erik backed away, mildly terrified, "Why in the hell would they be happy about it? I'm wanted for dead in half a dozen countries and the rest want me in prison to experiment on me."
Emma cooed and patted Erik on the cheek, "Oh, you idiot. You're Genosha's two founding fathers and you're smitten. This is a goldmine. They'll make movies about it."
Erik collapsed against the table and groaned, "I hate you. And I'm not in love."
Emma ran her fingers through Erik's hair, "Sure you're not, babe."
A long day at the office, followed by dinner with the Wakandan Ambassador/Prince, followed by sleeping through his alarm and an early morning meeting meant that Charles didn't make it to his new favorite bakery for breakfast like he'd planned. However, he was determined to seize control of his day and take an extra long lunch filled with sugar and Erik's smiles that didn't seem to know whether they wanted to be baffled or charming.
Idle thoughts about that smile were precisely what distracted Charles from the arrival of Raven.
Charles still dearly loved his sister, but in the short year since they'd both risen to the top of the Genoshan government it had become more and more difficult to put aside their philosophical differences.
Raven, or Mystique as she insisted on being called, was an ardent believer in mutant superiority, which collided rather publicly with Charles' policy of tolerance and integration. Raven had moved beyond agreeing to disagree with him and had become rather vocal in her derision for Charles' platform, despite the fact she still showed up at his office without announcing herself and behaved as though the speeches she gave calling Charles 'naive' and 'foolish' wouldn't change their relationship. Raven was new to her spot in the Genoshan executive branch (a leadership of three mutants known colloquially as the Triumvirate), and Charles knew she was just trying to cement her spot and secure a future election by playing to the fears of those who found Charles too tolerant.
(In the few years since Genosha had won its independence Charles was the only politician to retain their seat through all the elections. One of the seats seemed to pass back and forth between Scott Summers and Ororo Monroe like a game of catch, while the third seat was up for grabs every election season.) Charles knew his sister, knew she was cunning and would do almost anything to achieve her goals, and he had to admit it that trying to divide the electorate was a rather clever plan. It didn't make the matter less painful though.
"Hello, Raven." Charles smiled when Raven burst through his door without knocking, Charles' poor, frazzled secretary stumbling along behind her, trying to give Erik some notice of arrival. Charles gave the girl a gentle mental pat for the effort and smiled at Raven, "How are you doing this morning?"
Raven dropped down in the chair across Charles' desk, kicking her feet up on Charles' the smooth surface and completely ignoring Logan slouched in the corner. (At the beginning Raven had flirted profusely with Logan, trying to get a rise out of the man. Charles did not want to know what sort of violence had happened between them to make that stop.)
"Splendid, Charles. Just splendid."
Charles put down his paperwork and quirked an eyebrow, "I don't think I've ever heard you use 'splendid' before, dear. I assume something of particular brilliance happened this morning?"
"Absolute, delicious, brilliance."
Charles Francis Xavier was not considered a genius for nothing. 'Delicious' sent his mind straight to earl grey cupcakes, to Erik's forearms, to Charles' instinctual and inappropriate reaction to the mere sight of Erik, to knocking politely on Logan's mind and asking whether or not Raven smelled like Erik's bakery. Logan gave a mental grunt in the affirmative, and before Charles could turn on his filter he shouted, "You sent me to that bakery to scope out whether or not the baker was secretly a creeper?"
Raven narrowed her eyes and dropped her feet to the floor, "Did you read my mind?"
"I got a nose, kid." Logan interrupted.
Raven huffed, embarrassed she had jumped to the wrong conclusion but unwilling to apologize, "You are the best creeper detector, Charles."
"You didn't think perhaps that might be the sort of information I should be aware of before you send me into an establishment?"
"He wasn't going to do anything to you." Raven scoffed. "Today is the first day I've even seen him come out of the back."
Charles quirked an eyebrow in interest, then leaned back in his chair when Logan sent him a very pointed thought about playing it cool. "So you've never talked to the man?"
"Of course not. I'm a highly respected member of the community, I can't hit on the guy until I know he's not a creeper."
"Raven, you're naked."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"I thought that high standing members of the community were supposed to wear pants."
Raven rolled her eyes at him as though there was some important detail that he'd missed and went for the door. "Thanks for scoping him out Charles, I appreciate it!"
Charles sat there in dumbfounded silence for a moment before he dropped his head to the table.
"Huh." Logan grunted.
"Shut up." Charles moaned. "Shouldn't you have been able to tell that she wanted me to determine whether or not he was datable material?"
"And how would I be able to tell that?"
"I don't know, smell or something?"
"You remember that you're a telepath, right? You can pick that stuff out of her head."
"She's my sister!"
"Hey Charlie, all's fair in love and war, or some shit like that."
Charles popped up from the table, "Are you honestly telling me to hit on the man my sister fancies?"
Logan shrugged, "Why not."
Charles stared at him like he was insane, "Because my sister fancies him."
Logan raked his fingers through his hair like he couldn't even believe he was participating in this conversation. "Charlie, I want my cupcake."
Charles furrowed, "You want… your cupcake?"
"Yup. So, are you gonna sit in your office for lunch, or are you coming with me while I get my cupcake?"
Charles hesitated and Logan continued, "Though if you stay here and your baker boy asks me about why you didn't come with me, I will have to tell him that you've passed him off to your sister, who he's never talked to."
"Well," Charles hesitated, "If you're going anyway."
Logan tossed his hands in the air and stormed for the door with Charles scampering along behind him. Considering the sensation of flabbergasted irritation streaming off Logan at why Charles wasn't just fighting for what he wanted rather than rolling over, Charles decided now was not the time to idly ramble like he usually did with Logan.
The walk to the bakery was quick at Logan's pace, and the moment they stepped through the Kitty sighed in gratitude, "Oh I'm so glad you're here. When you didn't turn up for breakfast he started getting-"
"Kitty, I need more eggs!"
"Irritable." She gave Charles a sympathetic smile before shouting, "Erik! You've got company!"
Something smacked down on the counter in the back and Erik grumbled loudly enough that Charles could hear him clear from the door. "You know I don't-" Erik stepped around the door and stopped as he just stared at Charles, "Oh. You're here."
Charles gave a small smile, "Yes, I'm afraid I slept through my alarm this morning and work demanded my presence."
"Late night?" Erik asked, trying to sound relaxed.
Charles relaxed at the Erik's attempts to thwart his pings of jealousy, "A meeting with Wakandan Ambassador. He's an interesting man, though I feel like not unlike a third wheel when I'm at a meeting with him and with Ororo."
"They're, uh…" Erik trailed off and pulled a face in place of whatever euphemism he was looking for.
"Yes, I feel quite the cross between older brother and Regency era chaperone when they're together."
Erik laughed, the last of the tension finally leaving him. "Regency era chaperone? Charles, what have you been reading?"
"Nothing scandalous my friend, I assure you. It does no good to not to think about such things if Emma and her spies can find them in hard copy anyway."
Erik grimaced, "She does have a gift for rooting though people's privacy."
Charles stepped close, "I'm sorry, is something wrong?"
Erik shrugged it off, "I doubt there's a mutant on the island who hasn't had a run in of some kind with Miss Frost."
Charles laughed, "'Run in' yes, that's probably the most polite way to put it. I do adore Emma, but she's got a gift for finding the cracks in a man's mind."
"The stories say you're more powerful than she is."
Charles shrugged and gave his standard response, "Who determines what 'power' is." Erik gave Charles an indulgent smile like he didn't believe a word of it and Charles replied, "No, it's true. Is it just sheer brute strength, or does defense play into it? I may have greater reach, but Emma won't ever get shot. And I may go deeper than Emma, but you have to admit, people would be more likely to give up their information to a woman who looks like her than a man who looks like me."
"I highly doubt that." Erik grinned.
Charles didn't realize it, but while he'd been talking to Erik he'd slowly been working his way forward to the counter, where Erik was quietly reeling him in with his wicked smile. Charles thunked up against the counter and looked down to notice that he'd crossed the room unawares, and the multiplicity of possible meanings to his little explanation suddenly hit him. He looked up at Erik with a blush and Erik's smile turned from charming to triumphant. Without looking away from Charles Erik announced, "Take lunch, Kitty."
"Right. You wanna go get a burger, Wolverine?"
Logan grunted something unintelligible and stepped straight around the counter and into Erik's space, a hair's breadth between them while the two men glowered at one another. Charles felt vaguely like he was watching a nature documentary about wolves and whatever alpha male communication they do instead of telepathy. Finally Logan took an obnoxiously long sniff at Erik's neck and pulled back with a smirk. Logan smacked Charles on the shoulder, "Have fun Charlie." before he followed Kitty out the door.
Erik flicked his wrist and the door locked behind them. Charles quirked an eyebrow and asked, "Telekinesis?"
"Of a sort."
"Well that's delightfully vague."
Erik leaned forward, "Trust me Charles, vague is not my intent." Erik stretched out his hand, "Come sit with me. I'll feed you cake."
Charles reached out, but he paused, his hand floating in the air above Erik's while he brushed past Erik's mind, looking for any hint of Raven.
Erik quirked an eyebrow and said, "It would probably be more efficient if you asked."
Charles had the grace to flush in apology, "I'm sorry, it's just, is there anyone else? Anyone else you have, or intend to have, taken in back for cake?"
Erik leaned a little closer to make sure Charles understood, "Kitty hasn't even been back here, Charles. I tend to avoid people."
Charles felt the truth of the statement and dropped his hand into Erik's, letting himself be dragged around the counter.
Erik thought that perhaps he might have a streak of sadism he hadn't known about.
Really, what else could be the reason for specially making Charles a red velvet cake to stain his already plump lips while Charles worked at that fork like he intended to swallow it whole. Erik silently thanked Emma for relentless training in mental shields, although he didn't think she'd meant for him to use it this way. Erik worked on frosting cupcakes for the afternoon rush while he pointedly didn't look at Charles' mouth.
Charles hmm-ed again at what Erik hoped was the last of his particularly delicious bites, then full on groaned as a test of Erik's will. Erik twitched at the noise, accidentally driving the tip of his pastry bag straight into a waiting cupcake. Erik paused, willing himself not to curse and draw attention to himself, but Charles' snickers gave the game away.
Slowly and deliberately Erik set down the pastry bag and turned to Charles with a bland expression. "You've been doing that on purpose."
"No," Charles snorted, "I always make pornographic sounds when I'm eating." Erik glowered at him and Charles smiled, "Oh come now, you were ignoring me for frosting, what would you have me do?"
Erik tipped his head in concession and flicked his fingers, ripping Charles' plate and fork out of his hands. "Hey, I wasn't finished with that." Charles had followed the plate with his eyes, and so was unprepared when Erik sunk a hand into his hair and pulled Charles' lips to his.
Erik's kiss was fierce, taking advantage of Charles' shock to seize control of the kiss and bend Charles back, spine to the table, and tease open Charles' lips. Contrary to popular belief, Charles was not a wilting flower and came quickly back, pressing himself along Erik's front and kicking a leg around Erik's thigh to tug him off balance and bring Erik's bulk down on him.
Erik smiled into Charles' mouth and ran a possessive hand down Charles' ribs and under his bum, lifting Charles to the table for better access. Erik settled between Charles' spread thighs and in a fit of restraint eased up on the kiss, gentling his lips so the kiss had some finesse. Charles seemed to catch the meaning and unclenched his hands from their stranglehold on Erik's shirt and started to run them up and down Erik's chest in a move he supposed was meant to be soothing rather than the painfully arousing it actually was.
Charles ever so slowly started to lean back, his gentle kisses pulling Erik with him so Erik was braced over Charles on a kitchen table before Erik even registered that he'd moved. "No, no, no, we can't."
Charles wove his fingers through Erik's hair and pressed a gentle, teasing kiss to Erik's mouth before he leaned back, all mussed hair and smiling with kiss-bruised lips still stained with Erik's red velvet. Charles didn't say a word, fully aware that he didn't have to when Erik lunged forward and started devouring him again.
They went on for a few more kisses before Erik scrambled back off the table and Charles huffed, "Why are we stopping?"
"Because Logan will gut me if I take you on a table."
Charles shifted, more lounging back than actual sitting and 'hmm-ed' in supposed thought for a moment while he ran two fingertips along his own collarbone, dragging open his shirt. He looked up at Erik through wide, half-lidded eyes, the picture of debauchment, and asked, "Does that mean we're finding a bed?"
Erik grabbed Charles by the thighs and pulled him to the edge of the table while he muttered, "How in the hell do you make everyone think you're the perfect little untouched academic?"
Charles chuckled and planted a solid kiss on Erik before he pulled back to mutter, hot breath in Erik's ear, "Because the good people of Genosha don't like to touch me."
Erik groaned the lunged for Charles again, embracing a few more seconds of frantic kissing before a forceful pound hit the front door. Erik pulled back, burying his face in Charles' neck and groaning, "It's Logan."
Charles nuzzled Erik's temple and muttered, "I'll take care of that."
"I'm perfectly capable of making Logan think he's a fiver year old girl until I've finished with you."
Erik smiled into the hollow of Charles' throat, pressing an open-mouthed kiss there and making Charles squirm before he replied, "And when people figure out that your chief of security has lost his mind everyone else will join him."
Charles groaned, knowing that Erik was right. "We could be quick about it."
Erik raised his head and gave Charles a slow, chaste kiss. "No, when I have you it's going to on a bed, and without half the country waiting at the door."