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In their short acquaintance, Erik Lehnsherr has learned two very important things about Charles Xavier: 1) he may just be the most Goddamn adorable thing on the planet, and 2) he’s also a Goddamn oblivious idiot.
See, Charles is a telepath. A really fucking powerful telepath. But he has a weird complex around privacy that Erik thinks is ridiculous—one that means that Erik’s infatuation with Charles has remained completely unnoticed. And Erik will be damned if he tells Charles himself.
They met in a rather unorthodox way. Well, when Erik says unorthodox he means fucking weird. It’s not every day that you nearly run over a gorgeous man with your car, who then proceeds to ask you to be his fake boyfriend.
The conversation went something like this:
“What the hell did you think you were doing?!?” Erik says, angrily slamming his car door shut as he stomps over to the man who just ran in front of his car as he pulling it out of his parking spot. Righting the car with a flick of his wrist as he walks towards him, Erik stops dead in his tracks as the man rises to his feet.
“Terribly sorry, my friend, for running in front of your vehicle like that. But if you’re not in a hurry, would you possibly have a minute to spare?” the man says, straightening his fine, deep gray suit and brilliant blue tie. He’s combing strong-looking, squared fingers through his thick brown hair, putting it back into place. He has the most startling blue eyes Erik has ever seen, and his red lips move and shape around his words in a mesmerizing fashion. Erik’s so distracted he can hardly process what he’s saying.
“N-no worries,” says Erik. “I’ve got time.”
In reality, he has anything but time. He’s late to a truly essential meeting with the executives in his company, the architectural engineering firm coming apart at the seams without a good candidate for CEO.
But those blue eyes—for them, the firm can wait.
“Good, good. There’s a good fellow. Now if you could just follow me and play along when I say you’re my boyfriend that would be absolutely splendid!”
The man grasps his hand and begins walking. Erik’s mind goes blank with shock as he is dragged into a nearby restaurant/event hall, corporate nightmares left behind to work themselves out.
*
Charles—the man introduces himself as Charles Xavier, pleasure to meet you, terribly sorry for this mess—leads Erik into the center of what appears to be a crowded hall, clearly prepared for a wedding that seems destined to start any moment. Luckily, Erik is wearing one of his nicer suits and therefore blends in just fine. Charles’ hand is a warm pressure around Erik’s as they walk. Still in shock, Erik has very little time to absorb the sudden rush of information he gets regarding Charles and the wedding that is clearly about to begin. It enters his mind unbidden, pressed gently with an attached note of so sorry for this, excuse the intrusion, telepath, must make sure to sell it well.
Mere minutes later, the wedding march music begins playing and Erik is dragged towards the front of the room, pushed down into a chair, and told by Charles to try to look loving and supportive, if he could? Erik feels a warm presence in his mind again—one that carries with it a faint impression of cinnamon and nutmeg—as Charles presses more information into his mind’s memory stores. This time, the information regards the bride and wedding party.
Erik is mentally introduced in turn to the bridesmaids, best men, Emma Frost (wedding planner),Hank McCoy (groom), and finally Raven Darkholme (bride).
Charles is joined by Hank et all at the front of the room, Hank a nervous mess that Charles attempts to calm with a familiar hand stroking up and down Hank’s forearm. Seemingly out of nowhere, Erik thinks very clearly (and hopefully privately) that Charles should only be touching him that way. Then Erik remembers a couple of crucial details: 1) he has just met Charles roughly 20 minutes prior and it is far too soon to be this attached, and 2) Charles is not actually his. Shaking off the feeling as the bride—a blue woman!—enters the room, Erik puts on a loving expression that, in actuality, isn’t so far from the truth.
He can do this. He can.
*
All in all, it is a beautiful and touching ceremony. Afterwards, Erik is properly introduced to the wedding party. Everyone seems successfully convinced of Erik’s boyfriend status, if perhaps a little surprised at Charles’ lack of mention of Erik until now. Even Emma—whom Erik is told is a powerful telepath in her own right according to Charles’ mental instruction—fails to see through the charade, it seems. That is, until Raven.
Raven is a stunning blue woman with red hair, the stark white of her fitted mermaid dress contrasting beautifully with her natural form.
“Hello, dear,” Charles says, greeting Raven with a kiss to one scaly blue cheek. “This is the very man I was telling you about; I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Erik.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Erik. Charles has told me nothing about you,” Raven says, warily extending a hand to shake Erik’s.
“We, uh—we wanted to keep things a surprise,” he says lamely. When Raven clears her throat pointedly, he adds, “Pleasure to meet you too, of course!”
“Uh huh,” says Raven. “Well, I best be getting back to the party, but I’m sure I’ll hear all about you later, Erik, once Charles and I have some time to talk.”
As she walks away, Charles sags against his side and sighs.
“Thank you ever so much, my friend, for putting up with that. Raven’s been hounding me to get a boyfriend or girlfriend for months, and the matter merely reached a tipping point at the recent rehearsal dinner. Now, feel free to get back to that meeting you’ve entirely forgotten about.” He leaves Erik with an all-too-brief kiss to the cheek.
“No-no problem,” Erik says, watching as Charles walks away and his hand slips from Erik’s, warmth suddenly gone.
*
In the coming weeks, Erik can’t forget about Charles. Charles haunts his waking moments, his dreams—the crash course in Charles’ personality that he received mentally plays on loop in his head. He finds himself planning dates to woo Charles appropriately, plotting gifts—and all for a man he met mere weeks ago and hasn’t seen since.
Finally, taking matters into his own hands once he can’t stand it anymore, Erik develops a plan: surprise Charles at the college where he teaches and ask him out for real.
Except for when he goes to said college, Charles is out of the office for a field trip. Trying again the next day, Charles is once again out—this time for a family function. The dark-haired secretary at the college Angel is not at all intimidated by Erik’s threatening and stalker tendencies on the third day, instead giving Erik a sympathetic hug that he resists.
“Oh baby, he’ll be back on Saturday for a party that the department is holding in his honor. You can find him at this address. And between you and me—he can’t stop talking about you.”
She leaves Erik with a wink and a piece of paper with a scrawled address on it. And also with a sliver of hope blooming in Erik’s chest.
*
The faculty party is lively and going strong—clearly academics know how to have fun, despite appearances. Erik weaves his way through the party, looking for the familiar metal of Charles’ person.
Once he spots Charles, he immediately grabs his hand and drags him away, with no explanation. Charles’ protests fall on deaf ears—the way he lit up to see Erik, though, is etched into Erik’s brain, helping to stoke the hope in his chest even further.
Finally, they come to a stop just inside of Charles’ faculty office, Erik pulling Charles along behind him. Charles is radiating a dissatisfaction at being interrupted that can be felt in the air even without the aid of his telepathy—which quickly turns to confusion and surprise when Erik steps forwards.
Crowding Charles back against the wall of the office, Erik places his hands flat beside Charles’ ears. Charles looks puzzled—absolutely and adorably puzzled. Leaning forward, Erik whispers against Charles’ lips:
“You are a Goddamn oblivious idiot.”
And then he kisses him.
Erik curls his hands into fists where they are pressed against the wall on either side of Charles’ head, kissing him with all he has. Charles seems stunned, but Erik refuses to stop. If this is his one and only chance to kiss Charles, he’s going to make the most of it.
Then the unthinkable happens: Charles reaches up and tangles his fingers in the short hair at the back of Erik’s neck, pressing forward against Erik’s body and kissing back. Erik can hardly believe it. Encouraged, he reaches one hand down and slips it in the back pocket of Charles’ trousers, taking the other and tipping Charles’ chin up to deepen the kiss.
All the while, Erik presses his infatuation hard in Charles’ direction, hoping that his mental confession is enough to convince Charles that they have a future together.
After countless moments pass, the hum of the party a distant background noise, they break apart panting. Erik breathes in Charles’ smell, burying his nose in his hair and moving his hands to stroke along Charles’ cheekbones.
“Mm,” Charles hums, sighing contentedly. “That was a nice surprise.”
“Surprise? Surprise? Charles, tell me that the telepath had some clue that his fake boyfriend might just maybe want to be his real boyfriend?”
In response, Charles merely blushes and smiles sheepishly.
“Er … no, actually,” he says after a few seconds. Erik wants to put his face in his hands in exasperation, but instead he just hugs Charles close and brushes his lips across his ear.
“Well then, Charles, would said telepath perhaps like to consider his fake boyfriend’s proposal of real boyfriend status?”
“Hmmmm … the telepath is not sure. He may need some convincing,” Charles says, snaking his hands up to wind around Erik’s neck and slipping his thigh between Erik’s legs.
“Well, there is a reward in store for a positive response,” Erik purrs. He leans down to press another kiss to Charles’ lips, this one heated with the promise of more.
“Then I do believe the answer is yes, dear boyfriend,” Charles says, warmly and short of breath. In response, Erik only moves forward to kiss Charles once more—a hot press of lips on lips that blends and melds with the feeling of Charles slipping naturally and easily into Erik’s mind.
Twined together like this, kissing, mind to mind, Erik feels like nothing else matters—not the party, or the explanations, or anything else. All there is is the two of them and this closeness.
And Erik couldn’t be happier.