III

Oh let's take a walk outside
See the world through teach others eyes
I wish I was your only one

Erik briefly stares at the snow falling outside before turning his gaze back to the classroom. The children are quiet and for once they're all concentrated on their work. He feels a mild sense of pride as he walks between the easels and observes their progress. Many of their works look promising and he sees a careful eye to detail in each of them. He waits until the hand moves five minutes past the hour before he calls them to attention.

“Finish up what you can and then you're free to go,” Erik says. “Remember to sign up for conferences before you go. A paper with times are set up on the table. Have a good day.”

A few of them get up immediately but most remain seated, still staring intently at their canvases. He looks out the window again and watches as some other students head for the gardens. It's been four years since he and his foster family came to the mansion secured by Charles' inheritance. Charles Xavier. A young man of twenty-one and the second telepath Erik has ever met. A mutant running away from home with his own foster family, living in many parts of the country, fending for themselves without the help of others. It's a remarkable story and he remembers saying as such when they first met.

“Believe me,” Charles said. “It's not.”

However how could he say that when it was so obvious that he didn't see what Erik saw? A strong young man who led his family through cities, using his powers and doing his best to remain unseen by the government hunting them all down. It is only with his help that Emma and Jean are able to shield the school from prying eyes. It is only because of him that they were finally able to find a sanctuary. Because of Charles Erik and his family found the haven they tried to create underground for years.

“That money came from my late parents not me,” Charles protested once.

Still, when Erik sees the dedication he puts into the mansion and the students. When he sees him walk through the classrooms, a man respected and loved by all mutants for his constant work toward mutant rights. Erik sees—

“Pining again?”

Erik turns to find Jean standing in the doorway. The classroom is empty of students. He walks over to the large table where the art supplies lie to collect the list of names. He raises a brow and keeps his expression neutral.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Erik replies.

“Oh come on,” Jean rolls her eyes. “You don't need to lie to me. You don't bother lying to Emma!”

“Emma is my sister. I can't lie to her.”

“Well then as your sister's best friend, you should know that she tells me everything.” Jean crosses her arms. “You do know this is getting ridiculous right? I mean just because he doesn't read your mind doesn't mean that the rest of us can't... Actually that's unnecessary. It's plain from the way you two act.”

“Charles is my friend.” Erik puts the list inside of his planner.

“Doesn't mean you don't want to—”

“Enough,” Erik interrupts. “If you have nothing else to tell me, would you mind leaving? I've got an appointment with Sebastian.”

“Fine.” Jean raises her hands in defeat. “Say hi for me will you? I feel like I haven't seen him in ages.”

Erik grunts, leaves the classroom and makes his way for Shaw's private study.

.

Charles sits at the back of the room, watching the heads of the students bent over their papers. Hank is at the front, also watching the children. He wants to leave and go to the club but he promised Hank he'd actually show up for this class.

“It's not like as if I'm not there,” Charles complained. “You know I am.”

“Your physical presence would be a lot helpful,” Hank said. “Showing off your powers isn't enough to get them to study.”

“Fine,” he said. “I'll be there.”

“There are tests to grade afterward too.”

“Wait, what?”

“See you at ten!”

And so that's how Charles finds himself glaring at the students, restraining himself from forcing the answers to their minds.

You're making them nervous.

Charles looks up and sees Emma standing in the doorway, arms folded and an eyebrow raised in his direction. He raises his own in reply.

“Thank you,” Hank whispers from across the room.

Charles glares but Hank merely shrugs at him. They listen to the scratching of pencils as the students write before the timer goes off, signaling the end of the test. A few jump, and begin to scratch furiously across the page.

“Pencils down!” Hank calls out. “Hand your tests to Miss Frost on the way out.”

Charles waits until all the students have exited before rounding on Emma.

“Please, Emma, dear can you help him grade?” He pleads. “I have a date.”

“So I've heard,” Emma replies. “But no, Jean sent me to make sure you do your own work.”

“What?” He looks up at the ceiling. “Traitor!”

“Calm down Charles,” Hank rolls his eyes. “It's only a couple of tests.”

“Oh and besides,” Emma smirks suddenly. “Shaw scheduled a meeting today at two.”

Charles groans and lets his head hit the desk. “Is everyone conspiring against my dates? This has to be the third in a row.”

.

Erik knocks despite knowing he's expected. It's more so out of courtesy and he knows it's become a habit for him.

“Come in,” a voice calls out.

He turns the doorknob slowly and enters quickly before shutting the door behind him. He walks up to the beautiful oak desk and sits in one of the available seats before it. Shaw stands by the window, overlooking the gardens. Erik sits quietly and waits until his foster parent turns to him.

“Erik,” Shaw greets. “How have your classes been?”

“Fine,” he replies. “The students are doing very well. We might be able to display some of their work in our halls.”

“That's good,” Shaw nods, sitting down. “Listen, I've been overlooking the—”

“Sorry I'm late!”

Erik looks behind him surprise. Charles runs in, a tad disheveled, probably from running up the stairs to the study seeing as how Erik took the elevator upstairs. He winces internally. If he had only waited a few more minutes maybe...

“I was grading papers with Hank,” Charles explains, plopping down in the seat beside Erik. “Sort of lost track of time.

“It's all right,” Shaw smiles. “Erik and I were just chatting anyway.”

“Are we looking over funding again?” Charles suddenly asks, concern crossing his face for a moment.

“Well that's one of our topics of discussion, yes.” Shaw nods. “However I was going to ask you about your classes Charles. I understand you've been helping Hank for over three months now. I hope it's not taking away too much from your own studies.”

“Not at all,” Charles laughs. “I'm doing fine. Miss Potters is an excellent professor and her methods match no other. Also I have managed to impress Azazel with my infinite knowledge of the classics.”

“That is good to hear,” Shaw nods. “And precisely why I wanted to speak with you both. Over the past few months we have had an increase in enrollment and while many that come under our care are eventually moved into town, we still have many runaways coming to our school specifically. Logan has already expressed concern over the number of students requesting to take his Self-defense and training program. He and Victor have handled the number of students so far quite admirably but it is obvious that the strain is getting to him which is why I've asked Azazel to provide a new section for our students.”

“Sounds like a splendid idea,” Charles nods. “Azazel is quite good at martial arts.”

“That leaves the English classes open,” Erik points out.

“Precisely,” Shaw smiles. “How would you two feel about taking up the class? Of course you can divide the work evenly or set yourselves up as teacher and assistant, it's all up to you but... what do you say boys?”

Erik freezes momentarily before forcing his features to smooth out. Charles grins beside him and claps a hand over his back. He tries his best not to stiffen under the contact.

“I'm on board with the idea,” Charles says.

“What about you Erik?” Shaw asks.

“Of course,” he replies.

.

Charles waits until the elevator doors close before he nudges Erik in the ribs.

“Hey, what's wrong? You seem a little serious?”

“Hmm?” Erik looks up. “Sorry just thinking about the English class. We have to view Azazel's lesson plans and—”

Charles sighs and swings his arm around Erik's shoulders, “come on, I'm taking you to the club right now.”

“It's 3 in the afternoon,” Erik replies weakly. “Don't you have a class?”

“Potters and I have a mutual understanding,” Charles winks. “She lets me make up any classes I need to during private sessions.”

“I see,” Erik replies. “Let me get my jacket then.”

.

Utopia, the nearby town was built within view of the mansion. From there, Jean, Emma, Charles and other telepathic mutants often gather to drive out any oncoming raids. There are also others posted on the town's borders, keeping a close eye on the roads and woods nearby. However for the past four years it's rapidly become the safest place in the entire country. Mutants in desperate need of a home know they're welcome here. It's a fact that Erik is quite proud of.

The apartment buildings all range in size across the land but never rise higher than three floors. The few retail establishments are run privately by mutants whom make all their clothes by hand, the few that venture out into the city for cloth are only those that can blend in and can keep themselves on the low-down. Jean and Raven are usually the ones who go and when they return they talk of the new restrictions being implemented or bring a new mutant with them.

Cures have been produced and registration has become successful. Although many in the town talk of protesting and others talk of acts of terrorism, by the far no one wants to be the first to breach their borders and attack the outside world. They're safe here.

Erik and Charles make their way to the Hellfire Club, a three story clubhouse equipped with an underground ballroom, three dance-floors and a small restaurant. Despite it's somewhat unfavorable reputation for serving drinks to minors, most of the mutants in the town appreciate its presence.

Charles is often the most persuasive advocate of the establishment and perhaps because of his vast funding to the entirety of the town and mansion, no one feels compelled to go against his ideas.

.

Despite all his flirting and rehearsed pick-up lines, Charles doesn't take many girls to bed. When he does, he is careful, holding back through the haze of alcohol. Charles never allows himself to lose control and succumb to the sensations that sex entails. He is a telepath, he can't afford to let everything within a five mile radius know how good his partner makes him feel.

The last time that happened he and his family had to high-tail it out of the town. It had been easy to convince the girl someone had seen them and Charles hadn't told a soul. It wasn't easy to explain the same to her older brother. Raven refused to speak to him and the rest couldn't look him in the eye without blushing for weeks afterward.

Now in the safety of the club, he and many others have created secluded areas for telepaths to have some privacy. It's one of the reasons why he loves this place. Here he and others can be free from the voices around them.

He eyes the waitress that serves he and Erik and wonders if perhaps—

“Really Charles?” Erik rolls his eyes. “And here I thought you'd be able to keep your hormones in check for a while.”

“Erik, my friend,” Charles chuckles. “You should know me by now. Planning on staying the rest of the night by the way?”

“I suppose so,” Erik replies. “Someone has to make sure you get home.”

.

Charles is very drunk. Everyone in the room can feel it from the uneasy grip he's having on his powers. He's projecting way too many images and finally it's Shakti who pulls him into a private room thus relieving the others from his hazy presence in their minds.

When he emerges again, he's moving unsteadily through the moving bodies, trying not to gain control over his powers. It's useless since everyone can feel him as he walks through. Charles grins at everyone and tries to keep himself upright as he wanders to the next private room. Shakti barely touched him and he's concentrating on keeping his... problem to himself. It's difficult splitting his concentration this way but at the very least he manages to make it the next area where the lights have been dimmed.

He hears other people moving in the small booths closed off by curtains and he represses the urge to force one of them out so he can have a go. He groans and moves to the only available booth and is grateful to find a willing body there. A hand runs down the front of his jeans and he manages a whispered “yes” before suddenly he feels stubble on his cheek.

He freezes and tries to pull away but whines as soon as the hand disappears. He presses forward, reaching for the hands that were so eagerly on him before. They return and he revels in the friction before it's not enough. Charles reaches between them and pulls at his zipper. Before he realizes what's happening he's suddenly pressed into the wall of the booth, curtain pulled to cover them as hands scramble at each other.

Charles groans when he is granted his release and he slumps against the wall. He reaches out weakly to pull his clothes on properly but gives up halfway through pulling up his zipper. A small glass is offered to him and he sniffs it before pulling it up to his lips. The alcohol burns his throat but he hums in approval.

Then he reaches out again and pulls the other man by the loops of his jeans.

.

“Next!” Erik calls out.

Rogue walks in. She's holding onto her sketchbook a little too tightly and she's visibly shaken by his tone. He turns and reaches for her folder as he tries to calm down a little. Erik knows the headache is partly his fault for staying out so late last night. He wonders briefly if it's starting to show and sighs a little.

“Now, I've been looking over your portfolio and I see that...”

The following conferences go in much of the same manner with Erik pulling out their portfolios and pointing out minor details that need to be worked on. During one memorable meeting he accidentally rambles off on the integrity of artists and how fragile their position has become in society.

He dismisses all conferences after that and decides he should probably check in on Charles and see how he's handling his hangover. He looks for him in Potter's office and when he doesn't find him there, looks for him in Hank's lab but no such luck. As a final resort he decides to search for his friend in his room.

.

Charles wakes up, disoriented and aching all over. He suppresses a groan and tries to ignore the pounding in his head. He succeeds and manages to pull up his covers over his head before the knocking begins again. Whining he swings his arm over his eyes. When the knocking persists he realizes belatedly that it's not in his head but on his door.

He swings his legs on the floor, half of his body still lying on the bed, and he unsuccessfully tries to pull himself up using his bedside table. Charles slips into a sitting position beside his bed. Blinking he crawls over to his door and reaches up for the knob. After a few failed attempts he manages to click it open. Sitting back against the wall he listens to the person who enters.

What a mess...

Erik?

Charles manages to open his eyes and finds Erik swinging around to see him. The movement makes the other man wince and Charles tuts in sympathy.

“What did you do last night?” Erik asks. “Did you host a party in here or something?”

“Can't remember,” Charles mutters. “I was... with you wasn't I?”

Erik sighs and kneels down beside his friend. Charles is in a plan undershirt and briefs. There are bruises all over his neck and his lips are bruised. Erik looks away quickly and runs a hand over his face. He reaches toward the pile of clothes and searches for something, a robe, anything. He ends up pulling out a large black shirt with a shark on it. He eyes it warily before throwing it at Charles.

“Here, put this on. I'll go get you some aspirin.”

By the time Erik comes back from the kitchen with a glass and a couple of pills Charles has managed to crawl over to his private bathroom. He steps through the doorway and winces in sympathy when Charles makes a particularly loud retching noise and continues to expell what's left inside of his stomach.

“Here,” Erik kneels down beside him. “These'll make you feel better.”

He pushes the tablets at Charles lips and waits for his friend to open his mouth. Erik pulls his fingers away and pushes the glass of water forward. He watches Charles drink it, adam's apple bobbing steadily with each gulp. When Charles offers the glass back to him Erik places it on the sink. He stands and reaches out to pull Charles up with him. Charles wobbles for a bit before leaning his weight onto Erik, mumbling and closing his eyes.

Erik freezes, unsure of what to do by this point. At the very least Charles isn't projecting his headache onto Erik. He takes a deep breath and reaching around to grip Charles tightly to him, he manages to steer him back to his bed. Erik moves back to the floor and picks up the shirt. He returns to bed and tugs it over Charles' head. It's a bit troublesome to manage his unwilling form but he makes do with what he can. After a bit of a struggle the shirt is on and Erik makes to stand but Charles reaches out and tugs him back.

“Stay,” Charles insists. “Talk to me. Anything to distract me form this headache.”

“...all right.” Erik sits down on the nearby chair.

“No, here.” Charles insists patting at the side beside him. “Don't want to wake up in my own vomit or something.”

“I think the nausea has passed so—”

Charles pats the bed again, eyes closed and head leaning back against the headboard. Erik sighs and sits down beside him.

“What did you do last night?” Charles asks. “I didn't see you much.”

“I... hooked up with someone,” Erik replies shortly. “We decided we needed some privacy.”

“Really? Was it someone I know?” Charles allows himself to slump into the pillows supporting his back.

Erik thinks back to the club and the dark private room. He thinks of a young man's mouth on his neck and hands crawling under his shirt. He clears his throat and shakes his head.

“No, don't think so.”

“Did you get a number?” Charles asks.

“No,” Erik replies. “What about you?”

“Oh I saw Shakti... I think,” Charles shrugs. “I think we have a date sometime this week. Can't remember. I'll ask her later.”

Erik forces a smile then realizing that Charles isn't really paying attention lets it slip. Charles is still muttering when he falls asleep. Small unintelligible fragments of conversation that Erik follows along with hums of assent. Erik stays with him, for a while before he gets out of the room and takes a walk through the mansion.

.

When Charles wakes up again he whines at the sunlight streaming through his windows. Hadn't he closed the curtains?

“Charles!”

He groans and turns on his stomach, burying his face in the pillow.

“Charles, stop ignoring me!”

“Raven go away,” Charles mumbles. “I was having a good dream.”

It had involved hazel eyes... so close to—

“Wake up!” Raven pokes him sharply in the head. “Come on, we're going out to eat.”

“We are?” Charles looks up. “It's still morning Raven, go away”

“No it isn't,” Raven pokes him in the side. “It's past four.”

“Lies...” Then he catches sight of his clock and groans. “Why do we have to go out?”

“Because we haven't had a proper lunch in forever and I miss you,” Raven declares pulling the covers away from her brother. “And by 'we' I mean Jean, Scott, Alex, Sean, Angel, and Darwin too.”

Charles sighs and nods.

.

They walk to the restaurant, Raven wrapped in a light red jacket and black boots. She's wrapped a scarf around her neck and it flies with the wind as they walk down the road toward Utopia. There are a couple students milling around and a few stop them to say hello.

“I heard you're taking over Azazel's English classes,” a young man says from behind them.

It's Mike, a fellow student and part time professor. He has some telekinesis powers but is mostly renowned for his ability to absorb so much knowledge. Charles has had him in several of his classes and they've each been an assistant to Hank.

“Yeah,” Charles nods. “Erik and I are teaching the English classes nows.”

“Cool,” Mike says. “If you guys need help, I'm always around.”

“Thank you Michael,” Charles replies. “I'll see you.”

Once Mike is out of earshot Raven begins to laugh. Charles turns to her with a face.

“What's so amusing?” He asks.

“Mike wants in your pants,” Raven replies between giggles. “Erik better be careful.”

“He does not!” Charles protests. “And what do you mean by Erik? Is he supposed to be protect my virtue or something?”

“Yes.”

They turn at the new voice. It's Angel with a smile on her face. The rest of the family stands behind her, waving and looking visibly cold.

“Why aren't you waiting for us inside?” Charles looks at them in alarm. “It's warmer in there.”

“We're not going to die from a few degrees of cold weather.” Darwin rolls his eyes. “Besides we were just about to come and find you.”

They head inside—a small cafe known for its delicious coffee and pastries—and order some hot chocolate and coffees. Charles orders his favorite muffin (peach and pecan) and listens to the others talk for a bit. He manages to catch up with all of them in a matter of minutes and helps Jean cross the conversations through their minds.

For a while they sit in silence, searching for Charles' or Jean's minds when things need to be said. It's been a couple weeks since they've had a conversation like this and Charles finds Jean leaning against his shoulder in contentment. Raven reaches out and curls her hand in his and for a while the family is happy to say nothing.

.

The next day Charles walks into the library and finds Mike sitting at a nearby table. He makes a beeline straight for him and soon before he knows it the two of them are talking and laughing and disturbing the rest of the students studying. They leave and head up to Mike's room where the young man starts talking about his own classes.

“I mean I know it's not something others want to study and they're just there to try and sleep with me but I mean it's not like as if it's an uninteresting subject. Law is important if they want to make sure they can protect themselves should anything happen,” Mike is waving his hands in the air and he's pacing up and down. “I mean think about it!”

Suddenly Charles reaches up and tugs his friend to a stop. They stare at each other for a moment before suddenly Mike moves forward and presses a quick kiss to his lips. Charles stares at him, blinking rapidly before suddenly they're all over each other. Hands slip underneath shirts and gasps escape mouths while they makes their way toward Mike's bed.

Charles vaguely thanks the fact that Mike's a professor and as such has his own room. No disturbances or anything. He groans when Mike moves down, lips trailing to his crotch.

.

When Charles goes down for some dinner there are new bruises on his neck which he covers with a scarf. Jean is sitting with Scott at the counter when he walks in; they give him a once over before bursting into laughter.

“You're not fooling anyone with that,” Jean manages to say.

“What did you and Shakti do?” Scott asks.

“Wasn't Shakti,” Charles scowls as he removes the scarf. “It was ah... Mike...”

“Mike?” Jean thinks for a moment then the change on her face is so comical that Charles can't resist the giggle that erupts from his lips. “You didn't! Oh my—Raven has to hear this now.”

“No!” Charles protests but it's too late. Somewhere down the hallway he hears a scream then the sound of someone running.

“Charles you, you, you!” She's pointing at him, robe half off and eyes wide. “You slut!”

He blushes a little and covers his face in his hands. Jean and Scott start laughing again as Raven attacks him with questions.

.

Erik asks Charles to meet him in his office the Sunday following Shaw's meeting. He has some lessons planned but doesn't want to go ahead with them without talking to Charles about it. Charles walks in, wearing a cardigan and a scarf. He says nothing about them and wonders if he's sick.

As the meeting progresses, it's evident that he's not. His voice is clear and there is no visible exhaustion on his face. He is just about to ask when suddenly Charles scratches at the scarf, revealing a purple bruise, a half moon shape of teeth. Erik's eyes snap back to the texts and the possible essay topics.

Charles is oblivious and begins debating the use of One Hundred Dollar Misunderstanding.

“I mean it might make them question the integrity of literature wouldn't it?”

.

In the first few weeks of March, Charles and Erik dedicate themselves to working on the class. Charles decides not to bother with the scarf anymore. It's too much of a bother and besides it's obvious what he's hiding. He displays the bruises Mike's left on him with something akin to pride. Mike catches him walking in the hallways once and he turns such a delicious shade of red that Charles doesn't hesitate before he's dragging the poor law professor up to his room.

The next day when he shows up to Erik's office with fresh bruises, his friend barely bats an eyelash and instead starts up a conversation about the types of poetry they'll be covering. Charles tries not to seem too disappointed by Erik's lack of response.

He goes to sleep that night in Mike's bed and dreams of gray eyes and a large white smile.

.

Come early May the class has been prepared sufficiently. They have two sections, each with twenty students. They teach both classes with each other, bouncing off of each other's ideas and reading passages in turns. Sometimes Charles recites Keats in order to explain a passage or he reads a particular section with such emotion that he catches Erik staring at him, in open admiration.

They go out for drinks more and although Charles has always regarded Erik as a close friend, he feels something has somehow changed. As if they've gotten closer or something. They're having dinner together when Rogue comes up to them and asks Erik to dance. His friend complies and Charles watches with a smile. It's a slow song and Charles imagines Rogue specifically requested the DJ play this song (Babe/Oh, dream about me/ On the phone/ Talking quietly/ I wanna be yours/ Oh, won't you be mine?).

Erik is holding Rogue at a respectable distance and the two are talking quietly. His hazel eyes border on gray in the lights and Charles' breath catches in his throat. He remembers those eyes from a dream. He looks away and tries to calm himself. Suddenly Erik is back and he's smiling and Charles finds himself smiling back. He doesn't know why but he does.

.

Charles is fucked. He's completely and utterly fucked. It's bad enough that he's ignored his other needs for so long but to top it all off with falling for his best friend? Someone up there is playing with him. He just knows it. He sighs and tries to gather his thoughts for tomorrow's class. Hank had mentioned something about slides and preparatory notes to go over before the presentation. But he's been staring at the same slide for the past ten minutes, trying to decide whether the gray background is mocking him or not by reminding him of someone else.

He groans and lets his head fall against the desk. It's just too hard to concentrate and everyone around him is so peaceful and having the most pleasant thoughts of summer and its tantalizing weather. It's not fair, he thinks. Apart from Emma and Jean, no one in the mansion has any idea how hard it is to focus when everyone is so projecting their happy feelings. He's miserable okay? They need to stop making him un-miserable or something.

Charles lifts his head and rubs his eyes with a sigh. He's definitely not thinking straight anymore. He gets up and wanders over to the window and the gleeful cries of fellow students reaches his ears. He frowns and closes it. He doesn't need any more reminders of what he could be doing outside.

.

Classes with Charles are difficult only because Erik has to keep himself disciplined. He allows no room for stray thoughts and keeps his mind completely on the texts at hand. Only once does he falter when Charles bends over to retrieve a pencil. He's pretty sure his thoughts derailed completely from the discussion considering the smirk Charles had on his face afterward.

However as difficult as it is, he finds it becomes easier every time Charles shows up with new bruises on his neck. Erik manages to control his longing looks especially whenever a woman shows up to classroom, asking after Charles. The latest girl of Charles has been seeing is a lovely human called Moira. She moved recently per request of Shaw.

“She's my niece, Erik. The only relative I have left,” Shaw explained to him. “She won't be here long. And Emma is going to wipe this place from her memory as soon as she leaves.”

It's the only reason why Erik isn't bothered by her. He barely acknowledges the affair until Charles comes to his study one day with a stricken expression on his usually cheerful features. He pulls out a bottle of vodka and they talk about their failed relationships and hopes for the future.

Erik finds himself accidentally pressing his hand against Charles but not once does Charles protest. Just before he leaves Charles turns his palm up and grips Erik's fingers quickly before slipping away.

In that moment he dares hope that maybe... just maybe... he and Charles could try?

That is until the next day Charles shows up with bruises on his neck and a sleepy smile on his face. Erik decides that he's had enough.